While AFI (The Blood Album) may not have the mainstream crossover potential that the band enjoyed a decade ago with Sing the Sorrow and DECEMBERUNDERGROUND, it is still a highly enjoyable album that both diehard fans and anyone looking for massive rock hooks alike should enjoy, despite faltering a bit toward the end.

There is a sturdiness to the xx. The band’s innate talents for melody and texture, even when expressed in the wrong proportions, persist.

The result is a chaos of sound that leaves little direction for the listener.

SOHN doesn’t drown on Rennen, nor does he tread water, sticking within the confines of the music he’s already created. Rennen is SOHN diving into new creative depths, and triumphing.

Its an album free of ego: the mirror isn't directed towards its creator, but clearly rather towards his hope that we will catch some glimpse of ourselves in its murky, softly swirling depths.

Utterly theatrical, it represents without presenting; evokes without mentioning; transports without moving. It's as fake as the time we're living in, and as fascinating as our own decadence.

We've had countless albums predicating calls for mobilisation before, and they're generally provocative and valued but ultimately specious, but on RTJ3 there's a visceral directness that cuts to the aorta.

Goodbye Terrible Youth is not a perfect record by any means--but it is an emotional record, and an affecting one at that.

Glover has delivered an inter-generational, retro-futuristic 11-track history lesson on the healing and inspiring qualities of funk.

Woman is by no means a bad listen, it just isn’t a very original one either.

It’s more of the same, but when it’s this groovy, this killer, this consistently beguiling, that’s absolutely no bad thing.

While Starboy may not be a giant creative risk stretching away and beyond what we've come to expect from The Weeknd (like many of his A list peers such as Beyoncé, Rihanna and Kanye West have done with their albums earlier this year), it's a continuation of Abel's edgy salacious narrative and a complete assassination of pop's thematic normalcy.

Slugger is a no-holds-barred art-pop surge of iron-clad beats, and acute lyricism that goes beyond post-breakup reflections and confronts the listener to actually think about the state of being a biological, self-identifying, or perceived female in today’s world and the ardent misogyny they face.

Devil Music is unabashed reverence, almost innocuously so, but articulated with thunderous gravity and primitivism, if not focus. It won’t feature on many end of year lists, but it’s a helluva road trip, albeit one you’ll forget a year later.

Jessica Rabbit is a fucking great feminist-punk record, one of the pop highlights of the year, and the best thing they’ve ever done.

Unlike countless hip hop albums that feel slapped together to fit in the artist's favorites alongside the label's, flow unconsidered, each moment of Big Baby feels earned.

It’s an album crammed full of massive singles; the musical equivalent of a table full of gaudy, delicious cupcakes. You know too much of it is probably bad for you, but you can’t help but diving in and sampling each and every one with relish.

Throughout you can’t help but feel the constant swing of life’s moods, channeling through Elias Bender Rønnenfelt to become a drug that’s uplifting, unifying and ultimately deeply entertaining.

Mering wrings out so much emotion from her voice that these songs burst with human vitality--and that is the main thing to take away from here.

While it's endlessly enjoyable throughout, what we have here feels like a placeholder, a victory lap. Nonetheless, in a year full of R&B records bearing so much weight, it can feel a bit light in intent. There's few albums in his lane this year that can beat it for sheer vibes.

This is middle-aged angst done right.

The quality of dialogue on display is--though well-intentioned--kitsch and sustained by hollow jingoisms. The result is something benevolent, musically interesting and occasionally provocative, but rather too one-dimensional thematically to overcome its slightness.

This album is contemplative and, maybe more important than anything else, stirs you delve into your own mind and those demons we all have.

The Midnight Sun is more of an atmospheric experience, than an emotive one. That’s less of a problem than it would seem, because the atmosphere that C Duncan has crafted is mesmerising.

At times, it’s painful, and others, it’s cathartic. The fun, party-filled days of Never Hungover Again may be over, but by the end of Cody, Joyce Manor reminds us that it’s ok to get older.

Sirens runs swimmingly from track to track, and it’s ideal to consume it without a tracklist; listening as its samples, beats, and voices travel without a map or a compass. It’s clear Jaar wanted to do something similar to what the average listener considers to be an “album”, but making a strong case for his intentions takes patience. Contrary to pop music and accessibility at large, it works well in his favor.

Channelling the vivacity of the Beatnik poets in her hurtling metre and arrestingly forensic imagery, Tempest unravels a modesty in the metaphysics all the more powerful for its naturalism.

He is undoubtedly an absurdly talented fellow, and has the creative potential to make a truly ground breaking album. This isn’t that, but it is a strong debut.

Young Billie Marten is proving that, even at the age of 17, she is charting territories and making music that will only aid her growth.

Blood Bitch an interesting step forward from previous record Apocalypse, girl. It takes the guilty, ominous tone of that record and transforms it into something transcendent.

A Seat At The Table--like the headlines of 2016--is the score of black pain, black rage, black strength and black joy. And for everyone else enjoying the enticing R&B, it's for the rest of us to quiet ourselves, listen, learn and respect.

Mykki is a well-crafted, incisive debut record that proves to be well worth the wait.

The sum of its parts adds up to Bon Iver’s most challenging work to date; 22, A Million is an album that rejects comfort and expectations in favor of provoking listeners to make new discoveries. If this challenge is taken, it is a rewarding experience that only grows in beauty with each listen.

The death enveloping Skeleton Tree doesn't get in the way of his limitless sense of emotional elaboration.

It demands your attention, grabbing your head by the hair and forcing you to listen.

Heads Up feels like an album bound to be forgotten.

Atrocity Exhibition, through assertive honesty, embraces Danny's self-assaulting cycle and this time, he's not looking for any personal help. That may be because he's making the most focused, textured music of his career instead and it's clear he's abandoned any afterthought of possible radio panhandling or herd-minded mainstream appeal.

Individually, many of his tracks are great. But the album itself can feel like a concept that has been too thought out. Despite this, Mick's message is what still makes The Healing Component worth a listen.

It’s an as surprising and unpredictable, yet unquestionably enjoyable 40 minutes of music.

On what could very well be the band’s breakthrough record, they continue to trade on the values that have won them so many fans up until now--deeply unfashionable concepts such as patience, simplicity and reliability.

It makes for an exhausting and engrossing listen, and ultimately can’t be anything but a life-affirming statement.

Beach Slang's over-the-top, music-as-cure-all formula is delivered with such heartfelt sincerity that even the most stubborn folks must feel the need to jump around.

Named both in recognition of this being the band’s fourth studio album and for the passing of lead singer Jeremy Bolm’s mother from cancer in 2014, Stage Four is a towering record. Few albums this year, if any, have felt more capable of telling such vivid, striking stories with such clarity and palpable emotion.

Although elements remain, the core of humanity and character drive this collection to an equally intriguing effect and leaves a far more immediate impression.

The casual listener is sure to find comfort in the background nature of the music at play here, and a voice this talented couldn't help but deliver an above average pop record even on autopilot. That being said, there is a wish that he'd understand the very best pop statements don't shy away from a clear personality.

It feels like a tightly wound, meticulously crafted gem of an album. When you tack on the album's intense emotional resonance, Strange Diary has vaulted itself into the conversation for the year's most powerful albums.

The success of Emotion and its predecessor, Kiss, was a product of balance. ... Side B does not find that balance, and is most instructive in the ways it illuminates her process. It lets us peek in on the misfits that are the product of every pop album, and hints at the unsexy labor of music-making.

Preoccupations is a tough, black and resilient modern rock album.

Mystère is a long, cohesive, and magnificent work of art, full of vivid soundscapes and synesthetic tableaux.

They motor through these fifteen tracks with an energy and a precision that is a joy to hear, with the needles in the red all the way.

The instrumental experimentation is spot-on, not imposing itself too much on the melodies nor serving as a vehicle for virtuosity; they sound solid and everlasting, yet serene enough to know how to take their music to the next level.

Her weary disposition begs for songs that are stripped down and reduced to their component parts--songs that don't fuss around. That's the problem--the fussing, the instinct to add more. It sounds like she's reaching for something, but she doesn't know what it is or where to find it.

This is an ideal sign off for a band trying to showcase their own new sound; not overpowering, but a sharp, pointed and intriguing tune that will still be resounding after the track has finished.

More often than not, his debut is one that gives any room a light up disco floor, makes any moment a reason to escape to the Ibiza nightclub in your mind.

Boronia isn't going to change the course of music history, but it could just make a night of yours a little sweeter.

Morgan Delt's Phase Zero navigates that thin line between rêverie and acid trip, drawing an accepted state of temporary and discreet insanity.

Guidance is not only Russian Circles' best album yet, but a standard-bearer for heavy, guitar-based instrumental music.

Boys Forever is almost built to act as the soundtrack to the end of the dog days, when you just want a lovely track to wrap up the best moments with your friends.

When the walls seem to be crumbling, she dodges them with vocal acrobatics and surging production. As we look forward to a happier time, less insufferable, NAO shares a bit of bliss in her coming-out party as one of R&B’s most promising young dominants.

Ellipsis has an air of Moving Pictures about it; an amalgamation of everything that came before it into a cohesive whole, with a couple of new bits added in. It's still Biffy, but it sounds a little new.

A complement to Homer, whose exquisite myth catapulted the bard himself into the realm of myth, Crampton fashions a performative poetics that performs its own brown, queer, and sublime reality.

Whilst an extraordinary album from start to finish--there are moments that really stand out.

It's quite an enjoyable listen. It's all possibly about as boxed and pared down as Richard D James has sounded.

She has sharpened her writing to a fine point that pulls from life experience, unbridled emotion, theatricality and a sense of humour. Murphy has her own style, but more crucially, she has her own substance.

Wildflower might not be perfect, but it is gorgeous, heartwarming and fun. Its upbeat outlook is infectious and sure to be the soundtrack to many summers to come.

The Julie Ruin have moved closer to the show tunes influenced half of punk, and further from the grunge influenced half. In its honest mapping of the experiences of being a women involved in music scenes though, it is consistent with the very best of their previous work.

IV is perhaps a little too ambitious for its own good. Grandiose aims are never to be scoffed at, but considering that IV's highs are so remarkably high and its lows are so forgettable, one cannot help but wish that BBNG had smoothed out the product.

It's messy and crude, but never predictable. Nearly 20 years into his career, Copeland continues to make challenging and idiosyncratic music that defies conventional boundaries, and it's safe to say there's no chance of him toning things down anytime soon.

The Bride might not be as accessible as its predecessors, yet after time invested it will have you curiously considering ceremony, matrimony, and individuality.

Mount remains an exceptional musical craftsman, who continues to shift and change and toy with his formula, which is proven to result in fun listens like Summer 08.

You nearly always know what you're going to get with Plaid albums, but equally to miss them, to pass them up, is akin to passing up on some of those curious pleasures that make life so enjoyable, whatever these might be. So, you know what you must do; get digging The Digging Remedy.

Deerhoof show that pushing boundaries can yield fantastic results.

One of the most sincere sonic statements of the year.

Nothing feels forced. The ease with which the compositions flow and lyrics are sung is something any aspiring musician should hope to accomplish. case/ lang/ veirs wrote an album that captures the beauty in pain and the flaws in magnificence.

Their take on their influences may seem straight-forward, but Autodrama exudes confidence and the kind of allure that Headbangers lacked, making this an enjoyable and rewarding experience to immerse yourself in.

There are moments when their roots peek through, such as on 'Sad Sad Situation,' but this record feels more like a well thought through progression and career finisher than an attempt to indulge in nostalgia.

This is a solid, fun-loving post-punk record that definitely leans heavy on the punk.

Concrete Vision is perfectly fine.

As an album, it hangs together beautifully, avoiding the pitfalls of many concept records with its warm, honest approach.

Where circumstance sometimes has a way of completely crumbling a band, PAWS persevered, grew, and turned out an especially fun and heartfelt release that also happens to be one of their best.

Not only is Still Brazy, arguably the most sharply produced rap album of the year, emblazoned with the most pronounced storytelling of 2016, YG has un-apologetically used his gunshot as a metaphor for America in the time of Trump.

At just over half an hour in length, this is a stunning song suite of positivity that leaves you yearning for thirty more equally superb minutes.

It's sometimes easy to forget that Mitski didn't technically enter the greater music consciousness until last year, and what makes that worth pointing out is that despite her hitting her stride and turning out the most accomplished album of her career yet, she sounds like she's only getting started.

There are a few truly memorable riffs, notably on 'Hum for your Buzz' and 'Bitter Fruit', it's just that overall, this music feels that bit too slick to deliver the 'unease' and 'winking ennui' that the record label copy promised.

The songs get you moving just enough. The melodies and lyrics gently grab you by the ears.

Recorded in Los Angeles and produced entirely by Tommy English, most expressions of individuality have been removed and replaced with polished finesse. You are left with eleven songs that are entirely devoid of personality and the delivery only emphasises this.

Liquid Cool has a raw honesty to it that comes from stripping back the instrumentals.

The first half may be more instantly accessible but the final three tracks of The Invisible's third album sees them slip into their favoured lane and take the mantle as the most hypnotic and aurally enveloping band in Britain today.

Due to its immense diversity in terms of approach and styles, the rarities CD is a brilliant way of letting us into the multiplicity of colours and shapes that is Air's music.

Sometimes a couple words like "damn good" can suffice and with BRONCHO's Double Vanity, a better description likely couldn't be found.

Though it may take a few listens to reveal itself, Throws is a playful and inventive album that reveals little rewarding moments with each spin.

Nothing here really transcends nor even builds enough momentum to leave a lasting impression, but none of it prevents Midnight from being a subtly pleasing experience suitable for any time of day.

Each and every track on this album is so jam-packed with garbage pop flourishes that it can get exhausting.

Tooth may not be any less difficult to take in as a whole, but this time around, they've at least offered a slightly easier entry point into the sometimes bleak but fascinating realm they occupy.

A solid effort that has pure intentions, but just doesn't quite hold the attention in the way some of Diarrhea Planet's peers do. Turn To Gold will find a solid niche of fans, and likely just get a head nod of meager approval from everyone else.

One feels that the band's lid has to blow at some point with so much emotional pressure bubbling beneath the surface, but for now, the group remain solid crafters of beautifully tense music.

Things Will Matter is fine as it is but it feels tantalising, as if there's something more to come from Lonely The Brave.

Stranger to Stranger is a pleasure-filled exploration of rhythm, melody, instrumentation and lyrical themes which has joyful experimentation at its heart.