This album is catchy. There is nothing wrong with writing catchy songs. Melody matters. Listenability matters. But this album feels like priority was put on making sure there were hooks in each song instead of letting the songs form organically.

The hazy, dream-pop vibe mixed with piano bar works. Take a listen. Soon you'll be lost in the worlds of melancholy and the sublime.

White Reaper Does It Again is undoubtedly a summer album.

Four years after dropping his breakout mixtape, the follow-up is an exultant street album.

It often has the spontaneous feel of a live show, and Mark Greenberg's unfussy production serves to amplify that rawness.

This is as close to pop perfection as music as seen in quite some time.

While this sound is by no means new or challenging, it is a lasting one, ensuring that Mondanile's work is always relevant (especially when the clouds disappear).

On album five, they still manage to experiment and sound as fresh as they were when they spat out 'Seventeen Years'.

There is song crafting of an exceptional variety as Sermanni delivers ten solid songs, the longest just a touch under five minutes, that all have an important story to tell.

These 16 minutes from Thundercat will likely prove to be one of the year's thought provoking and most rewarding listens of the year.

Whilst sounding altogether more psychologically and sonically cluttered, the challenges this album presents are as invigorating as its rewards--poetic beauty can still be found amidst the lysergic confusion.

Wildheart is a leap in the right direction but Miguel hasn't shed off all of pop's restrictive trappings just yet.

Communion may be the end result of years of refinement, but you can't help but feel it was reached on someone else's terms.

It's a relentless album full of short, sharp, shocks of art-punk chaos made by a group of awkward, anti-rock stars, but however strange and experimental it gets, there's still that primal joy you get with gangs of mates crashing around in sweaty basements.

No Life For Me might be fast, but my god, will you enjoy the ride.

If there is a criticism to be made, it is that at times the whole thing can be a little too low-key.

PeteStrumentals 2 is exactly the album you'd expect it to be. Similar to the '78 Fury, we aren't chasing the latest here.

It may struggle for attention-grabbing fireworks, but Build a Boat to the Sun is completely endearing.

In spite of its sequencing, every song on Cemetery Highrise Slum is individually good.

It's a good album, full of high points, but it never excites in the way it threatens to.

Inji is an erratic debut album, an invitation to go forward into weirder territories with Dust in the future. As invitations go, however, it's intriguing enough to take up.

Based solely on intuitive improvisations between musicians, he has produced an engaging interpretation of the ominous air and electricity Schipper creates. Victoria, and its music, seizes the beauty and terror we find within those moments when we throw ourselves into a new, uninhibited context.

While unrelentingly committed to his personal story, Vince rapturously integrates dense and conscious-filled narratives of his inner life, packaged vibrantly over layered and unpredictable production executively produced by No I.D with support from DJ Dahi, Clams Casino and Christian Rich. Among 20 tracks, there's no filler to be found.

Freedom is nothing more than an exercise in competent stadium rock.

Enjoyment of Mercy as a whole hinges on whether you consider the boyish, faltering vocal to be strong or cheesy.

It's better paced than Arc, which had great songs but grew tiresome. It's the insular nature of these songs that makes the album better than their previous efforts, a purity emerges from their new found restraint, there is depth to be found in its breathing room.

Son Lux's remix value is through the roof, settling nicely along the lines of Purity Ring's debut, The xx, or even some of Thom Yorke's solo tracks. That said, each of these examples are revered, but not lived up to.

PINS architect and frontwoman Faith Holgate has always stressed the band's desire to maintain a disparate sonic palette and it's an MO that can be felt throughout the first half of the album.

With Grievances, Rolo Tomassi seem ready to take their first step onto the stage in front of a wider audience.

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful is an arena-ready and festival-ready record that, in true Florence and the Machine fashion, is packed to the brim with alarmingly catchy hooks and astounding vocal theatrics from its vocalist.

Moroder's attempts at creating a 21st century version of his prior success results in painfully artificial, sterile, boring music.

In Colour breaks no new ground to be sure, but as an accessible crossover record it does a perfectly serviceable job. It's light, breezy and pretty, as ephemeral as the exhilaration of clubbing without really evoking the thrill of it all.

They can be packed to the brim with the thoughts and feelings of a whole collection of people. For Algiers, it is this ability to connect with hearts and minds that ultimately makes their record among 2015's strongest thus far.

The musical event drips in unprecedented additions that welcome alternative vocals from Erykah Badu, Janelle Monae and Jesse Boykins III to the track list, along with fervent features from King Louie, Big Sean, J Cole and Quavo, that lure the rap artists out of their comfort zones and onto intricate live compositions.

There's a cracking EP in amongst the tracks on Boys, but no shortage of filler, too.

While it is a solid, if unspectacular debut with promise for the future, it's difficult to fight the feeling that Before We Forgot How To Dream is an album which hides behind big production because it is afraid to be intimate.

If each of these eleven songs didn't deviate from their affective formula until now, there's not much reason to change it up. I do wish I could hear more lyrics and emotional sentiment.

The record's ability to be simultaneously dense and accessible, joyful and thoughtful, inspiring and cautionary, allows it to make a case for being an essential record for anyone in their twenties.

The world it creates is in many ways richer, more affecting and bolder than the ones that came before.

Compactness aside, the tracks here don't give up on lyrical imagination.

It has interesting moments and one cannot really fault Kozelek for looking to present a different narrative than his previous record. But there is no denying that Benji set a high bar and this record borrows elements from it, but does so with disappointing results.

Valet's third LP is proof that hazy guitars and dream-pop vocals aren't just for smoke-filled basements. When done right, anyone can take the journey and float with the music rather than get buried inside.

Sonically the album is engaging and intriguing, but that's only the first layer. The lyrics are poetry, each word there on purpose, just like each note and beat.

A$AP Rocky has always been an innovator and his creative attempts have always been bold. At.Long.Last.A$AP is no different there.

All in all, When The Night Comes is unsettlingly monitored and controlled--but that kind of discomfort makes for a pleasantly digestible experience.

While it was a throwaway reference earlier, the contrast between Girlpool and LCD Soundsystem exhibits why Before The World Was Big is such a refreshing listen.

The end result of Unknown Mortal Orchestra's third outing is a intoxicating concoction of brooding psychedelic musings, complete with otherworldly synths and fluttering modulations, on one of the most complicated and divisive topics one could imagine a pop record taking on.

Shortly after the release of Swimming Through Sunlight, Brown complained that he was already bored with its songs and admitted the band hadn't considered how it would feel to be bashing out the same garage band combinations a year later (the answer: tedious, if their new material-heavy live sets were anything to go by). With Heydays, they needn't stress about falling into that trap again.

This is music full of heart and imagination and it is well worth investigating, even though some long standing fans of hers may be puzzled at first.

Six albums in, Hot Chip are still making stunning pop records filled with a barrage of dancefloor wonders that are packed with heart and soul. That's enough to show why we still need Hot Chip in our lives.

The L-Shaped Man makes for a fascinating homage to the band that spawned a million t-shirts. How Ceremony will fit many of these new songs into their set lists without creating an odd pace remains to be seen, but the group has clearly attempted to showcase their veneration and done so with conviction.

Ratchet is instantly likeable and oh so infectious. A great pop album through and through, there's enough here to keep you dancing all through the summer.

Sprinter is a vital album.

Overall, Entanglement continues Erased Tapes' music and emotional aesthetic which can lift up the anchor of imagination and let its listeners float in its possibilities.

This record should be coupled with its predecessor but it without doubt exceeds its ambitions.

Stetson's bass sax is still an extraordinary thing to hear, and Neufeld's melody lines and textures add another colour to the palette.

Aside from two or three fillers, this record should be applauded for doing what Consentino does best: writing melodies that stick in your head for days.

Fated draws you in, and encapsulates a range of euphoric sounds, leaving you much lighter on the other side.

Heyoon accomplishes what many fuzzed-out, shoegaze inspired bands strive to do--create an album that is heavy, sludgy, experimental and equally precise; musical, catchy.

Time to Go Home is an unrepentant triumph that will ultimately establish the group has one of the most important musical voices showcased in 2015.

Platform is a record that reveals itself slowly. An intelligent, intoxicating electronica record that draws the listener in and revealing new truths as it goes.

It is a cliché but it really shows the power of music, Kristian Matsson found himself in an awful situation, processed it through writing, and over the course of one album left you feeling excited for the future.

Whilst Wilder Mind is not very good, it's really not as bad as you want it to be.

They felt that they had run their course and wished to bow out on a high note. They have done exactly that.

It would be unfair and disingenuous to Mew to say that each song follows a template, but the band have become so proficient at producing affirming, soaring pop-rock music that it's easy to forget just how much is going on in each track.

It's as brilliant a record as it is unmemorable, but ultimately as an artistic vice it is absolutely essential.

There is no ignoring the allusions to the natural world. And with big orchestration and even bigger ambition, the band were able to show just how we are only a small part of something much bigger.

MCIII is a great record because it gives us a scattered, messy, but uncompromisingly honest portrait of Cronin himself. Nothing is overthought, nothing is too considered.

II does not attempt to reinvent the wheel, but instead just straps rockets onto both sides and lets it fly. And boy, how high it goes.

Colours is not a bad record, far from it. It does, however, feel like an experiment that has gone slightly out of control; exhilarating and dazzling at times, worrying at others.

Even if one may argue that stylistically there's not a massive divide in the progression between the two albums, a thin yet omnipresent veil of inquiétude covers most of Hypnophobia's tracks, turning the ensemble of the LP into an almost visual exercise of self-induced trance.

Unwrapping the record reveals a collection of tightly packed delights; exceptional songs that grandstand the artist's lyrical prowess, outstanding musicianship and incredibly flexible voice, readily guided by Herbert (Bjork, Michachu, Roisin Murphy) in the producer's chair.

Deep In The Iris is full-bodied and assertive, while their lyrics address both the personal and the cultural.

Their efforts were actualised in a catchy album that makes you want to dig deeper and discover what they are trying to say lyrically and musically.

Turbo Fruits feel weightless, airless. The smooth production only makes the disappointing lack of clarity all the more unfortunate. I don't know who or what this album is for.

While Cherry Bomb's low moments hold back the album's highlights, hopefully the high points are a sign of things to come.

Quite simply, Sound & Color isn't an album to Tidal or play off've some 'device', it's one to sit down and listen to in its entirety before happily handing down through the ages like a sweaty bag of Werther's.

The ideas are fleshed out so well sometimes, and it's upsetting that I have to wait until 'City' to once again get to a place where the records conciseness is shared with its depth.

There are a select few tracks on Lucid Dreaming that you'll be delighted to include on a party playlist, but this isn't an album that you'll be playing on loop.

I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside is an exceptionally realised and meaningful work from an artist looking well beyond turn up culture in the pursuit of something deeper and longer lasting.

With Action Bronson, he's continuously put out solid bodies of work, whilst never compromising his character. Mr. Wonderful may not be the strongest debut he could've released, but for a rapper that probably doesn't measure his ability by studio albums, neither should we.

Pared-down arrangements place O'Brien's exceptional songwriting at the forefront of each track. His voice and words, a paradoxical mix of worldly weariness and childlike delivery, are still present, and as enduring and endearing as ever.

He's far too savvy to stagnate. And as long as he keeps making records like this one--so palatable they might be guilty pleasures were they not so rooted in pristine indiepop--his music will remain relevant.

Much of the album treads familiar ground, not only to long-time listeners of Fort Romeau, but for any fan of the more minimalist side of House.

This album is about the layers that play out in a minimalist way. Each brush stroke, each note, is purposeful. This album doesn't scream "listen to me", it gently draws you in.

It's hard to determine the highs, lows and fluctuations of the record. That's not to say that the record all sounds the same, but without the visuals that such music seems to promise it can be difficult to remain engaged.

This album is perhaps even more ambitious than its predecessor and, unlike East India Youth's debut, finds the artist stepping out from the shadows to produce a stunning, transformative electronic record.

Ultimately, Ivy Tripp is the best record in Crutchfield's discography, but her rise is undoubtedly continuing. Where she will plateau remains to be seen, but she is already making her mark as one of America's premier songwriters and she shows no signs of stopping.

You will hear better records than The Scene Between this year; none will put a bigger smile on your face.

The result is that, after a succession of disappointing pastiches, the boys have gone back to the good old days, and reawakened a three-headed monster.

Genuine, life-affirming innovation is hard to come by, but you recognise it when it asks more questions than it gives answers. I challenge you to find an album that's less intended for straight-up consumption.

Barnett's emotional candour on Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit shows us that sometimes she brushes off her mistakes and sometimes she dwells on them--just like the rest of us.

Fantasy Empire is the sound of a band modifying their sound rather than totally changing direction and whilst their spontaneity may have been tempered by their new ways of recording, their intensity and creativity remains very much intact.

There's plenty to like about Strangers to Ourselves; it's just that it genuinely baffles that an LP as sprawling as this can have so many different ideas, and so few new ones.

With Kintsugi, the cracks in the Death Cab veneer are undoubtedly visible, shiny or not. While many of the tracks fall flat, the vestiges of their prior form--confession and melody and, ultimately, charm--will likely still be evident enough to keep fans enamored. 


III will bring a needed meditation if your day was rough. All it takes is the antithesis of a pop song to snap you back into reality, but III will hold your head close while it has your attention.

Throughout, the vocals are natural and organic which allowed an artistic endeavour like If I Was to even take shape. Growth is the life force of any artist. If I Was is proof of this.

A true musical blessing, extraordinary stuff.