A better summertime album will be hard to find this year. You can expect to see Whitney's name on a lot of year-end lists and deservedly so.

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.

If you've got the patience, then this is a remarkably rewarding listen.

Tired Of Tomorrow is a bold, expressive grandiose album that proves capital-R Realists can make something just as beautiful as capital-R Romantics.

Ceremony may have easily conquered the sophomore slump, but The Miraculous is the moment where von Hausswolff truly arrives as an artist.

Somehow these combined imperfections result in several absolutely perfect moments that will keep How To Socialise & Make Friends on rotation for a good while to come.

This dedicated honesty that she exorcises in her songs cuts both ways; as undying devotion to friends, yet callous dismissiveness towards herself. This leads to a disconcerting but utterly magnetic outing on third full length Black Friday.

Holiday Destination is musically rich, but its greatest triumph is its concord of convenience and intellect.

Late Night Tales is a beautifully constructed, cohesive compilation of tracks which proves the ascension of Jon Hopkins to the highest level was no fluke.

Tears in the Club acts as yet another testament to Kingdom’s skill as an innovative musician; many try to fuse inspirations from numerous styles, eras and artists, but few do it quite so effortlessly.

After seven manic albums attempting to prove his perfection, Kanye is seeking penance on The Life Of Pablo. Here, he delivers 18 heavenly hymns.

There's no real end to Cross' aspirations here, in just over 40 minutes, he sifts through his own past while struggling to believe in a brighter future. It's just what makes this record so powerful: with some of the breeziest production one of the finest beatsmiths to grace hip hop has ever offered, Black Milk begs us all to snap out of it.

7, Beach House’s seventh album is definitely not their approach to the finish line, but a positive view on what’s yet to come. As their message of optimism and a cry of coherence is strong, this release also solidifies of their efforts and dedication, hence the Baltimore duo becoming titans in the music industry and being worldwide sweethearts.

More than ever, the human experience is tangible through their music, and they manage to create those unmaintainable moments of joy that can, in a moment or a movement, dissolve into something else entirely; a memory of something long forgotten, a vision of your inconsequentiality in the world, a realisation that everything is temporary. Fortunately, they are not always downers, moreover it just feels comforting to have those feelings quantified so stirringly through music.

He hasn't lost a step, returning with an album that reminds of Lotus in its sprawling, rapidly transitioning 23-song tracklist. There is little else to compare, here, Thundercat--already a musical wunderkind--truly grows into his own as a presence.

It accomplishes everything you would expect a sophomore album to do: it builds off the promise of its predecessor and sees a band coming into their own and developing their own unique style and sound. Probably the least expected thing about it though is just how jaw-droppingly good it actually is.

As a collective package, POST- is incredibly accomplished. You’ll relate--hard--you’ll be shook, you’ll feel attacked, because this record underlines in red marker some uncomfortable truths which are articulated uproariously. POST- has set an extraordinarily high bar for the rest of punk in 2018 to clear.

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.

Though their influences are neatly displayed almost in the same way band posters are hung neatly on a bedroom wall: Cheap Trick, Kiss, Thin Lizzy, The Cars, The Ramones, just about any great power-pop or classic rock band, White Reaper effortlessly make their influences solely their own.

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.

The Physical World confirms everything we'd hoped for: DFA still know how to produce unstoppable energy, they still know how to push a bass guitar to its full capacity and they still know how to inject tonnes of fun into not just their product, but the wider spectrum of music itself--and there's not much more you can ask for, especially after so long.

Written during tumultuous times, Ti Amo is the soundtrack to a future as hopefully bright as the record itself.

There's no faulting the album--it's stunning and well worth your time and money, but it's not their masterpiece, their seminal album. But that's hardly a criticism.

It's an astounding debut in which he demonstrates the discipline to shape his wildly creative visions into something not only thrilling and compelling, but also focused.

The songs are each densely packed musically, but so taught and unpredictable that it's clear that they are the vision of a single creative mind. Angel Deradoorian's mind is vibrant and open, and on The Expanding Flower Planet she's inviting you for a visit.

Through ten booming orchestral tracks, A Curious Tale of Trials + Persons is a much-needed self-defensive assault on the industry. On labels. On genre and gender norms. On materialism. On blinding ego. On expectation. On the box so many people have attempted to put her in. So don't refer to Little Simz as a female rapper. Just call her king.

It's a rich and rewarding experience, one that offers a powerful glimpse into the everyday lives of those members of marginalized communities struggling for acceptance in an increasingly closed, divided, and hostile society.

He immediately introduces us to his new titular “Shepherd” persona, and continues to act like the consummate host to the listener throughout the record’s beautifully interwoven 20 tracks and 64 minutes.