It’s excruciating in its honesty – even for Lenker, who’s hardly known for shying away from her feelings. Now she bares her pain with complete abandon. It’s quite extraordinary.

The live recording of this record really helps deliver that communal feeling. They feel so present and close that listeners might feel they’re violating the pandemic rules.

Off Off On stakes out the Winchester-born, Paris-based Stables as one of the most original and musically gifted artists of today.

The only constants are Albarn’s drowsy presence, shuffling through songs as if shot in the neck with a tranquiliser dart, and the stout melodicism that makes …Strange Timez the finest Gorillaz album in a decade.

Though it doesn’t deliver the promised 2020 twist on the Nineties formula, beabadoobee’s debut album is a terrific new addition to the “bubblegrunge” genre.

To these ears, album closer “Serpentine Prison” bears an uncanny – if stripped-back – similarity to “Friend of Mine”. But for the most part, this is a Berninger record, and it’s very good.

If I’m honest, it’s as hard to tell this Future Islands album from the last one as it is to tell one seagull from another. But that’s not to say they don’t all soar and swoop in a way that’s guaranteed to lift the heart.

You’ve Always Been Here is a carefree celebration, a win-win; the band have fun unloading on such un-precious tracks and the songs prove themselves sturdy enough to withstand the punishment. In rock or classic soul circles, it's guaranteed to raise a smile.

Chisholm lacks both the originality and super-wattage of a solo megastar. But her ability to sing to us with the gutsy warmth of a good mate on a karaoke night continues to make her enjoyable audio company.

I was rendered wonderfully weightless by a journey that delivered whole galaxies of nuance in a universal context. Trust me: the force is strong in this one.

It's a one-tone listen. But that shout-in-your-face directness is exactly what makes Ultra Mono so powerful. This is rock music that compels you to pay attention.

An intriguing addition to the band’s canon.

I suspect both the artist and her critics push too hard for her to find one true self. Whereas this record sees her rattling between a range of identities, it’s still a lovely bunch of Keys.

Tea for the Tillerman has been updated with the aim of drawing attention and fans from a new generation. Whether these fuller versions will attract new listeners is debatable. However, there are certainly surprises here.

New album The Universal Want manages to feel relevant, but not preachy.

American Head addresses something more universal – memories of childhood, adolescence and family, and their lifelong imprint on us – with an expansive sound that is equally accessible, tender and surreal.

Re-Animator packs global anxiety and paranoia into exquisitely crafted songs. A superb album.

There are lots of glam stompers-by-numbers. He teamed up with country singer Shooter Jennings to make the album, and the organic simplicity of country chord progressions lies beneath much of the industrial post-punk chrome shell.

For the most part Gold Record is a deftly woven and cosily feathered little nest of songs. Settle in.

Tricky plumbs the deepest fathoms of despair. But from that he’s created something beautiful. This is one of his best, and truest, albums.

Zeros is the sound of an artist pushing his creative development, and enjoying himself as he does so. Exciting stuff.

Throughout is a sense of wonderment at being alone. Perhaps solitude is an underrated pursuit, but with Inner Song, Owens makes a highly convincing case for it.

The entire thing is produced meticulously; each track slides into the next to ensure the party never stops. Club Future Nostalgia is pure, undiluted fun.

There’s nothing on this record to equal the giddy delight of Perry’s greatest hits. No fireworks to light up the dance floor, but enough to raise a smile.

It’s a fitting record for the global unease of the past few months, but one that’s characteristically intimate.

It may be a slightly face-flattening wind tunnel of love The Killers offer. But they still have the gale force sincerity required to blow your socks off.

A master at cramming elaborate lines into verses far too small for them, Bradfield could have made Even in Exile a wordy tangle of exotic oppressions. Instead, to draw parallels with the “acceptable” brutalising of today’s socialist figures, he takes a more impressionistic approach.

An album that soothes, shakes and surprises at every turn.