This is music that can offer everything, but demands nothing. That's no small feat for dance music in the howling maw of 2017.

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.

This is middle-aged angst done right.

Tune-Yards latest is a record dominated by the society it both critiques and is a part of.

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

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.

A record rich in fruits to reap, the result of unbridled enthusiasm, masterful craft and, yes, a long gaze sunwards.

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.

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.

It's decent and fairly enjoyable, but nothing astounds.

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

Tremors is a flawed debut, ironic given the lyrical content, but it's one that, when properly explored, does have some brilliant moments.

Write In sees them continuing to demonstrate just how deceptively subtle their shifts in sound and approach can be, and the depth of their songcraft reveals itself over repeated listens in ways it never did before.

Cabello is finding her footing, and with more swings than misses here, the album signals a hopeful future for a fledgling pop giant.

This is a more palatable and approachable record (even if Maguire sounds like he’s being beaten to death on ‘The Soft Hands of Stephen Miller’). But what’s missing is a lot of risk, something that each Pile record has revelled in.

Fuck Off Get Free We Pour Light On Everything finds the Orchestra in combative mood, kicking against the economic ills of the western world and delivering a terminal prognosis for global democracy as a whole. More importantly, and as dogmatic and stubborn as ever, they continue to do what they do best; enjoying making a wonderful racket.

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

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

It transmits a message in a coherent way and addresses social criticism of the current times, all of which places their new album among the year’s unforgettable ones.

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.

It’s perfectly plausible that the record will age just as well as VanGaalen’s best stuff--we just gotta give it more time to let its shapeshifting flowers bloom into something as beautiful as his animations.

Love + War is a flawed yet no less exciting debut from a talent who deserves every success in the world.

This is not a record for the faint-hearted. Hell, it should come with a health warning, but if you give it a chance you'll be rewarded with the most innovative electronic albums in a long time.

Taken in isolation each track holds up extremely well, but as a complete piece of work it sometimes seems to rely on a few too many repeated motifs.

As a breakup record City of No Reply is truly refreshing. It’s vulnerable without being either self-defeating or overly-aggressive and it’s both honest and warm, admitting blame without being overly-dramatic.

Dragons has taken some getting used to. With each listen, new details emerge.

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.

I Don’t Run can be misread as an album of fun alternative rock songs, but under the surface, it is so much more. Every instrument feels perfectly in place to create a wide range of songs. Varying emotions and a distinctly more mature Hinds.