It’s compelling and moving songwriting that manages to depict all of life’s complexities, Canal spinning raw emotion into beautifully crafted songs.

Still shamelessly livin’ it up, with an eyebrow cocked and high kicks galore, ‘The Human Fear’ is – as promised – Franz-y as fuck. You do you, hun; you do it so well.

This record is loud, raw, and impossible to ignore.

On ‘Debí Tirar Más Fotos’, Benito revolutionizes Puerto Rico’s folk music and reclaims his reggaeton throne with game-changing fusions that are authentic to him and what he believes in.

Casual fans may not last even three minutes. But for those who are willing to sit with its discomfort, ‘Perverts’ reveals hidden depths – the same way that eyes need time to adjust to low light. What it reflects is in the eye of the beholder.

The recently-liberated star rarely misses on ‘Afrikan Alien’ – aside from ‘Soda’, which is a poor attempt at jumping on the Afro-piano wave. But, from showing off his surprisingly angelic vocal chops on ‘Round & Round’ to delivering introspective gems birthed from his self-reflection, this tape is an enchanting glimpse into the inner workings of the rapper.

It’s an album steeped in balladry and strummy, sad-girl pop, each track a soft unraveling of her inner world. And yet, coming from Rosé – an artist who has long had to keep her personal life under wraps – this stripped-back approach feels nothing short of bold.

Despite holding onto this grief, Wizkid puts that energy into more dancefloor fillers. Fun and experimental, while still harnessing an element of traditional afrobeats, the dance section of ‘Morayo’ builds on ‘More Life, Less Ego’’s high-energy yet effortless aura.

Dre and Snoop forgot the legacy they created for the West Coast with ‘Doggystyle’ and – although there are flashes of fun – the forgettable collection barely scratches the surface of their legendary status.

The sonic range on display is certainly a stark departure from the twisted world of Chvrches’ thrilling 2021 album ‘Screen Violence’, but at times, it can feel more like an ideas workshop than a bold artistic statement.

There’s confidence, and then there’s this.

An easy contender for the rap album of 2024.

Combines her strengths with her evergreen knack of embracing the moment into a collection that exudes maturity and class.

Unlike ‘Kiwanuka’, this album doesn’t keep you guessing. Rather than punching you in the face with a barrage of beauty, it softly rolls pockets of magic into your path. Yet, the softness of its approach does nothing to lessen the impact of Kiwanuka’s long-awaited return.

He’s bowed out from the spotlight to produce a record that tunes into love, ageing and the search for meaning without the compulsion for a punchline or wry aside. As a result, the lush ‘Mahashmashana’ doesn’t quite mainline the zeitgeist in the same way that ‘Honeybear’ and ‘Pure Comedy’ did. Then again, there’s something to be said, in 2024, for logging off in favour of self-reflection.

Even if ‘Access All Areas’ doesn’t overwhelmingly herald the return of R&B girl group dominance, the massive momentum FLO have built over the past two years hint that the dam is about to break.

While her words don’t always deliver, ‘Petrichor’ stands best when her emotionality and innovative soundscape take hold.

Three safe, heavyweight singles are backed up by a confusingly hit-and-miss album.

If it’s less direct than the trio’s 2018 debut, ‘Stranger Today’, it makes up for it with a quietly adventurous textural approach. This album wears its nuances confidently while executing incremental shifts in tone and pacing with precision and care.

From where we’re standing, it doesn’t sound like Gartland needs to change a thing.

Ultimately, though, ‘Come Ahead’ may have a whole lot of funk on its surface but still packs oodles of punk and grenades of protest in its trunk.

Despite being told over the course of just three tracks, the story of growth and revitalisation that underpins ‘SABLE’ hardly feels rushed.

Within the chaos, there’s beauty — the sensitivity of ‘Hey Jane’, the infectious hip-hop bite of ‘Thought I Was Dead’, the rising cacophonies of brass and percussion on ‘I Killed You’. But perhaps a less frantic approach would’ve benefited the listen overall.

‘Manic’ is more stylistically diverse, ‘If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power’ more musically ambitious, but ‘The Great Impersonator’ is Halsey’s most honest album – that is if you choose to believe her.

A record that is surprising, affecting and invigorating in its honesty.

This collection of (mostly) new songs stands strong on its own. The record is tighter yet bolder, sexier yet sadder, as icy, electropop siren Kylie once again leaves it all on the dancefloor.

‘3AM (LA LA LA)’, their most assured collection yet, proves they definitely have the tunes to match their outsized personas.

A complete and resounding success, ‘Dreamstate’ offers one of the most emotionally engrossing collections of electronic music you’ll hear this year.