Although ‘Lungu Boy’ sees Asake still rewriting the rulebook on Afro-pop, you have to push through a lot of samey repeats of his past work before you get to the good stuff.

Many of the digressions are compelling, however, the frequent changes in approach mean that its creators’ personality isn’t always easy to grasp. This mercurial quality is a result of several straightforward rock tracks that are noticeably weaker than the album’s finest moments.

Intriguingly adventurous, ‘Bird’s Eye’ marks Lenae expanding her musical repertoire and exploring new vistas – an ambitious accomplishment.

A collection of songs that showcase the tangled feelings of this time, the young artist’s third record is a poignant, powerful thing.

On solo album number six, the meal is lean and hella spicy.

The star’s debut album shows plenty of promise but some filler, too. It’s not a masterpiece that will silence the haters, but it’s not likely to slam the brakes on her rapid rise either.

On his last musical hurrah, Glover has made a record as otherworldly as his other outings. Yet, ‘Bando Stone and The New World’ stumbles slightly – where its sonic variety is exciting, it lacks a clear sense of cohesion or theme compared to his previous work – making it a bittersweet farewell to the legend of Childish Gambino.

‘Heis’ ultimately serves its purpose and shows who Rema truly is: a dancefloor mastermind that will be a face of Afropop for decades to come.

As its lead single suggested, Eminem is attempting to have it both ways here – to emulate his 2000s hits while lampooning Shady as a cultural relic who makes geriatric barbs at sensitive Gen Z-ers (as on ‘Trouble’), which enables him to say the same old thirstily provocative stuff. The extent to which he does so only overshadows the point he’s apparently trying to make.

‘Charm’ boasts a new level of maturity, its creator more poised and at ease than ever before.

‘Vertigo’ is a diaristic tale of scaling mountainous fear, traversing back to her naive youth spent making music in her bedroom – and welcoming a new chapter with newfound courage.

It’s a record that – while injected with a healthy dose of groovy fun – is keenly honest. And although it may be sonically sugar-coated, Wolf’s candid lyrics never are. It’s funk-fuelled catharsis.

At just 28 minutes in length, Kasabian’s eighth studio effort is concise, precise and generally focused. This allows a vibrant emotional clarity to bleed through its swaggering fabric, adding up to Kasabian’s strongest album in some years.

What on the surface can feel like a lack of cohesion makes space for an eclectic, expansive sonic palette that constantly drifts between genres yet is anchored in his diaristic musings on finite romance.

The major swings he takes not only pay off, they highlight his uncompromising spirit.

Over the album’s 52 minutes, Megan sprawls out, mining different aspects of her identity and personality at her leisure. It’s exciting when she enters new territory.

Though Young’s specific type of yearning and bluntness may be indebted to SZA, she possesses the genuine star power to further develop an already strong artistic identity. This is a record that always remains sure of itself, even in its deepest, darkest moments.

Leaning into catchy pop and garage rock mixed with an anecdotal edge, Bird’s debut album ‘American Hero’ has a gloss that is, undeniably, all-American.

‘C,XOXO’ is a laconic, off-kilter pop record filled with heavily Auto-Tuned vocals inspired by T-Pain. It’s a new sound for Cabello that heightens the music’s intriguing, trippy sheen. Throughout, her lyrics pivot between pithy and revealing.

With ‘Scream From New York, NY’, Been Stellar trade in their title as one of the city’s brightest new hopes and emerge as a NYC staple.

It’s a moment of pure pop catharsis that leans into the good, bad and messy of infatuation. This is the joy of ‘The Secret of Us’: it doesn’t shy away from the complex or contradictory. Here Gracie Abrams embraces her growing pains and celebrates enduring the difficult moments. She’s never sounded better.

There is little room to breathe and you will practically be beaten into submission by Keary’s snare by the time you reach closer ‘Slap Juice’. But this is a confident, assured debut from O., two instrumentalists at the height of their craft – with a real sense of humour to boot.

In the dark of the night out, the moment is all that matters and the rave will set you free. To shout that in a ‘dying’ language on a record that couldn’t sound any more alive? That’s power – and Kneecap have it.

It may have taken six years, but ‘Dopamine’ sounds like the (damn) album Normani was meant to make all long.

While the singles released for ‘Model’ were strong and lively, the album as a whole sounds like a band that has withdrawn from taking a risk and stepping back into their comfort zone.

AURORA has often been plagued with this patronising image of being another “ethereal” Nordic witch. This, though, is a fiery record dealing in reality – dancing with the imps rather than away with the fairies. Album highlight ‘My Name’ pulses with a Trent Reznor groove – a flash of evil but all guts, balls and intent.

This album acts as a bookmark of his creative evolution, and its polished production work makes it a good representation of his musical identity thus far.

While renowned for R&B and Afrobeat, here, Tems displays an ability to meld contrasting sounds and tempos, allowing them to flow and interlock – seamlessly echoing notions of freedom. Tems closes out the record with ‘You In My Face’ and ‘Hold On’ – a one-two punch of finesse.