This is Parker's strongest bunch of songs yet.

It’s a dramatic stretch on life’s road map, on which Local Natives have captured their true spirit once again.

Depression Cherry is a beautiful record about darker times being a point in a journey, not the final destination. It shows its creators have a level of wisdom beyond their years.

Musically, Dream River sticks calmly to understated Americana, generally managing to pull off Lambchop’s neat one-inch punch trick--seemingly effortless and gentle, only to echo with far more drama and beautifully powerful resonance.

Sudan radiates confidence on Athena, uniting distinct musical elements as if they belonged together all along. It’s an album that sounds like nothing else.

Finn has created a great album here, horn-drenched and hazy in its instrumentation, precise, prescient and poetic in its words.

Brilliantly produced, thematically solid, prescient, insightful and witty: it tackles with aplomb the paradoxical themes of isolation and overconnectivity, anxiety and the seeming proximity of death.

The album’s great triumph--The Antlers’ great triumph--is the intelligence with which Silberman’s masterful lyricism is matched to its backdrops.

Some tracks sound like Elvis ballads drowned out by faulty styluses and retro sound systems. Others are breathy song-cycles of gospel folk. For all the rich breeze and slinking Tarantino guitars in "Hope To Die", the track more resembles an ‘80s Mazzy Star-era shoegaze piece for the country purists to languish on. With Pony, Orville Peck has put himself in the boxing ring for his own ’68 Comeback Special.

We can certainly add this gorgeous new album to the list of things that we take warmly to our hearts during these trouble times to help us make some brief sense out of it all.

Ultimately, Delta Machine is a record full of terrific moments, reminding you of why you fell in love with Depeche Mode in the first place.

A stunning release, Likewise is Quinlan’s proof that, either on her own or with her band, hers is a voice not likely to get lost in the crowd.

It’s fun, it’s weird, and like nothing you’ve ever really heard before.

Her stories are made believable by the authenticity of Bentham’s real-life everyday nothings that season each song and open our minds and hearts to the most primal feelings we encounter and the most insignificant events that take place in our lives.

The fact that GLUE isn’t just another album in Boston Manor’s discography rings out. It's a portrayal of moral depravity, a reflection of modern society and a call to arms for change. A bold and brazen album that will joyously haunt you.

A futuristic perspective on post-punk and rock and roll. Clever enough to implant electronic hooks into your brain, subconsciously. Dumb enough to smash a guitar into the drum kit, just for kicks. These guys have got it all.

Sometimes all you need is an escape; a world of fun to jump into when you need a little pick me up. ... With Love in the 4th Dimension, they’ve capitalised on that feeling and make a truly stonking debut.

Close to the Glass is a record bookended with perfectly executed experiments, so gentle on the ears. Beautiful and perfect, they make the whole record seem round, and right.

Marling has delivered Once I Was an Eagle with a charisma lacking in most of her peers, and the poise of a far older hand.

The Glow isn’t just another album in the band’s discography. It sounds like a coming of age, an album that is limitless in its imagination and one that defies genre limitations.

This is state-of-the-art pop music with an irresistible sense of rough and tough feminine glamour. Do not miss out.

Lighthearted and wild in places, intimate and revealing in others, Ugly Cherries is whatever you want it to be.

Factory Floor’s music is distilled down into three elements. Rhythm. Synths. Vocals. That they make something so evocatively alienated, so compulsively unknowable and so bleakly irresistible from simply this is a sharp, uncompromising, emphatic victory.

It is characteristic of the Brewis’ distinct methods that Open Here can feel so cumulative yet still reinventive.

Ghost Culture is a house fan's Alice in Wonderland experience--everything is curious, and nothing is quite what it appears to be. But everything is delightful.

There simply is no contemporary songwriter that speaks so plainly, yet so devastatingly, to the darker matters of the heart as Sharon Van Etten. Her intimacy is so palpable that the silence in the room once the record stops is jarring.

They just make fantastic, intricate albums that sound like they’re not even trying. Spoon are a band with nothing to prove. They Want My Soul proves everything.

The Golden Age is undoubtably the work of a mature consciousness.

This is a story-album: each track is its own world and, like any novel, it demands attention. ... Gold Record feels self-consciously like a classic country album, something The Bellamy Brothers might have put their names to.

Here Lies the Body holds a sweeter and more sentimental Moffat than one might expect. Some of these songs could be parallel universe versions of Arab Strap tales; the scenes quite similar, but the perspective lightened, finding tender humor in human intimacy that’s tart but not bitter.

A Deeper Understanding doesn’t seem to arrive at any conclusions or answers to the questions of self and suffering that Lost in the Dream addressed, since they are inherently unanswerable. For The War On Drugs though, the importance has always lied in the journey, and this powerful record proves that the band has no signs of stopping along the way.

Less antagonistic than Gore and wandering down considerably fewer stylistic avenues than Koi No Yokan, Ohms plays instead like a spiritual successor to Diamond Eyes. Like that record, the production is polished enough to see your face in, and like that record, there’s a sense that the arrangements are being granted plenty of room to breathe.

Palace show they have matured-yet-remained faithful, and expanded-yet-honed. So Long Forever is an album from a band who know what they want, and how they want to get there.

Con Todo el Mundo feels like a record to be enjoyed in transit, towards somewhere sunny, optimistic, exciting.

Even though it’s Feist’s barest full-length, it’s also her most playful, her most consistently inventive. On the surface it sounds wafer-thin, but at its core there’s no shortage of heft.

From low slung groovers, to blissed out chill-hop and Escherian piano pieces, You Can’t Steal My Joy is full of pleasant plot twists. While this means one thing the album does lack is a sense of cohesion, that’s a small price to pay for the sense of freedom and discovery.

Lotz knows how to craft her work, using every moment to her advantage resulting in an album that’s an absolute indie-emo masterpiece.

Carry On The Grudge could so easily buckle under the weight of expectation. As it is, it feels like the most natural of follow-ups.

While this album may not be the all-encompassing assault that was the signature of The Plot Against Common Sense this is a record that shows a willingness to change, adapt, try out exciting new things that simply retreading that formula would not have done. Outstanding.

Yes, notes and chords are fun and all, but these songs are precisely-controlled messes, and beautifully so. Simply put, Heron Oblivion is a guitar-centric record for those who thought Marquee Moon was too linear.

She has created an album so unquestionably true to her quirks and personality traits that fans are offered a true insight into her process and psyche. This openness means they will be invested for the long run. Substance over streaming.

As the concluding part of that elongated trilogy, Heartleap is the most magnificent and worthy of valedictions.

Power is a rampaging success at being theatrical, dramatic, grandiose and, simultaneously, tasteful.

Burgess’ omnivorous pop palate leads the music through baroque flourishes, residual California vibes, and a laser battle reminiscent of Joy Division’s “Insight” in the sunny swell of “Warhol Me,” with equal aplomb. It is a kinder, gentler rock and roll, perhaps, envisioned by someone who is convinced that “the future is friendly.”

Though it lacks in the experimentation of Atrocity Exhibition, it compensates with cohesion and undeniable quality. As a presentation of Brown as an exceptional rapper, it ticks all the right boxes.

This is one of those rare records were extra additions aren't just unnecessary; fine as they are, the fuller arrangements of some of these same songs included here as bonus tracks suggest that Fay has cooked up material of such elemental and fragile beauty that any additional noises could easily scare away the magic.

Musically, Good Sad Happy Bad is both challenging and engrossing.

Your Hero Is Not Dead shows Westerman not only invigorated, but willing to stretch his range. Working again alongside longtime friend and producer, Bullion, Westerman, here, surpasses his early work with curious abandon and confessional songwriting.

The idea that you can have too much of a good thing is thoroughly debunked with Thank Your Lucky Stars, such is the beauty of the songwriting and their uncanny ability to create an all-consuming mood.

Despite tracks such as “I Pray” and “Save The Day” re-treading the Disney dewiness and naïve optimism of Carey’s earlier ballads, the hardening of the singer’s artistry is palpable across the record.

Triage is a spectrum of colour and abstract character, stained with a unique personality. Thanks to this approach, Triage is the finest work from Methyl Ethel yet.

This album makes you work, forces you to hit repeat not to relive sweet, instantly gratifying thrills, but to let it root into your brain to understand it better.

Toumani & Sidiki feels like an freshly unearthed artefact, steeped in the influence of centuries.

How Big How Blue How Beautiful is a cathartic, devastatingly honest personal diary set to music.

It’s that sense of balance--the epic and the intimate, the light and the shade, the coldness and the warmth--that puts Taiga in contention with Stridulum II as Zola Jesus’ best work, the purest distillation of an ever-searching soul.

A combination of new life experiences, that allow Hutchison to weave more vivid tales of mourning, nostalgia and, ultimately, triumph, and the shot in the arm that is Aaron Dessner giving the band that little bit more has helped to create an album that could rival Midnight Organ Fight.

Their progression has never been less than thrilling to watch, and--this is a compliment--Older Terrors feel like another step, not a destination. We have much to expect from this group yet.

This is a marked improvement on the density of their first effort, and sounds like a band who have grown very sure of themselves in the best way possible.

Slow Club are grander than ever, shimmering like disco balls, toting an LP that’ll break them into mainstream darlinghood; by the sounds of this bolshy confidence and tune-garlanded melange, they’re not only ready, but expecting it.

In Search of the Miraculous finds Desperate Journalist striving and challenging themselves, happily searching for that sense of the sublime in a world that will outlive us all.

Just as the sophomore Arc was, this feels like a transitional curve towards something even greater. Nevertheless, it’s an exciting and very cohesive addition to an increasingly sprawling back catalogue. It expands an overarching narrative that becomes clearer, angrier, and more relatable with each step.

What Kinda Music also features an unlikely collaboration with acclaimed MC Freddie Gibbs. Sonically, it fits perfectly: the Misch / Dayes project is not far off from Gibbs’ main production collaborator Madlib.

Feathers excluded, art abstracted from the man, Black Panties is one of the finest albums of the year.

Lament is testament to the power held in each new day, and the moments to be discovered within, delivered with crushing passion by a band worth standing behind.

There are few albums that will make you experience so many emotions concurrently, and even fewer that will still give you chills hours later. Even though it may be tough to swallow some of the brutish feeling, it’s an exceptional record.

Curve of Earth is sparse, but the trio make up for it with their relatable and confessional take on what their idea of a vast Americana is and how to simply survive within it.

The difficult second album never sounded so effortlessly good.

For all the tragedy that’s to be found within Singing Saw, it is a warm, welcoming album, every second of it informed by a knowledge of the transience of all things.

The complexity in the arrangements of some of the harmonies on this record show them off individually and their obvious synergy as sisters.

While you can identify his signature guitar looping motifs on the records, providing a subtle backdrop for Georgas’ expressive vocals, it's her willingness to open herself up on such a bare naked level that gifts All That Emotion its titular promise.

A Picture of Good Health addresses issues more personal. And though predicated on personal experience, it’s a record that looks inwardly while projecting outwards, all the while letting listeners know that however on your own you might feel, someone somewhere has been through the same, and that you’re not alone, no matter how much it might seem like it.

Traditional Techniques is an album completely out of time — a folk(ish) record about the present day that might be one of the most future-proof of his career.

Cymbals Eat Guitars certainly have done right with LOSE; it’s an impeccably beaten, teary-eyed but smiling document to a frighteningly exhilarating time of one’s life and beacon to march onward--momentous to anyone in their 20s, and even us still neurotic old guys.

Upside Down Mountain establishes the songwriter as a career-musician, one who probably won’t be forgotten for a while yet.

The result is an intelligent and thrilling collection of existential punk-rock that has so much more to offer than those two paltry words, “punk” or “rock” could ever suggest.

Vile had the opportunity, with the success of his previous solo album, to make something completely polished and aim for the stars to just see where he landed. Rather than dialling back the finesse, he could have aimed for his Rumours, his Full Moon Fever. Instead, his eyes seemly firmly fixed on the road, then at the beach and then at the gutter. And it’s a thrill to join him everywhere he goes.

Nikki Nack frantically succeeds on so many levels. Garbus ticks every box with aplomb and swagger, making a record that’s confrontational, boundary-bending, enigmatic, topical and sheer fun outside the usual channels.

[“Modern Loneliness”] is quietly anthemic; an ode to the contradictions of contemporary culture and the cognitive dissonance of wanting to feel better but not doing anything to get there. It’s the perfect conclusion to an album which speaks to the various anxieties of both its subject and its listeners.

Closer to Grey is the coldest, shiniest, most polished collection of songs released under the Chromatics banner. It’s chillier, darker and more sinister than anything else they’ve ever put out.

It's an instrumental record, as probably is to be expected, and those looking for the kind of emotional depth (beyond primal urges and base fear) or commentary might be a bit disappointed. Nonetheless, that minor point will probably be a non-issue, totally overshadowed the devastation in play.

There’s nothing too complex about what Porridge Radio do, but they do it very well, and Every Bad is unlikely to wear itself out soon.

Ghettoville is lonely and solipsistic, music for 3am and the glow of streetlamps and the distant reflections of glass and steel, of crumbling urbanity meshed with neon glow and shadows cast long and deep.

This is also her most musically subtle and lyrically direct album to date.

The real moments of surprise come when the band strip things back and sound heavier than ever.

Despite the changes in their compositional style, their growth, their pain and their heartbreak, First Aid Kit haven’t lost the key element that makes them so distinct.

The music itself is, in truth, not all that much of a departure from the trademark spiky, speedy post-punk that found a home on Light Up Gold and Sunbathing Animal. But the album’s covers, something hitherto avoided, offer a little respite from the repetition.

This is a lovely, beautiful and reflective record, the music is intelligent, has depth and sounds gorgeous.

The result is an earthy, positive album that buzzes with authenticity and pride.

Fade is vintage Yo La Tengo, but somehow gorgeously grown-up, with moments which your head will tell you sound normal, as if you have heard them before, but which make the rest of you feel contemplative and still.

Kidal is first and foremost a kick-ass, spirited rock 'n' roll album that demands to be heard far beyond any 'World Music' specialist interest circles.

American Head is a rare concept album that actually coheres as a narrative, but can just as easily (but less rewardingly, perhaps) be enjoyed as simply a set of the band’s most potent and moving tunes since the early '00s.

Colfax, then, resembles best of Richmond Fontaine’s work: unassuming, deceptively simple songs that gradually gain the resonance of a great short story that happens to be accompanied by great music.

Each track is like a new stride upon their voyage, each sound a new experience or emotion.

Once again this clutch of sound, coming in at under an hour, is the vehicle for one of the most unusual and malleable voices in Britain today.

From Kinshasa is a distorted transmission of a sound of a city, but it's not the neatly paved, orderly and predominantly functioning type of town most of us are used to.

Chasescene will delight existing fans and lure in fresh blood with equal measure.

Shriek is perhaps not what we expected from a Wye Oak record, but it’s blinding nonetheless, and, while destroying any preconceived notions of the band, lodges itself near the top--if not at the top--of their canon.

It’s utterly, completely, resolutely and defiantly them. It’s futuristic but warm, nostalgic but distant, pretentious but human.