Potently precise and exceedingly witty, Kirby’s lyrical prowess is written all over Blue Raspberry, showcasing its sheer range from the earnest theatrics of "Drop Dead" to the quiet craving on "Wait Listen".

Sometimes you have to look back to move forward, and by doing that, Underworld have made their best album in almost twenty years.

Masculin Féminin offers a fascinating trip down memory lane for a band which has quietly--or rather more loudly, in the case of these songs from 1994 and 1995--made their mark on modern music.

Exploring his spiritual side, Kevin Morby has shown us the light, and it’ll lift you up, comfort, and enlighten.

Bea is a beacon of nostalgia for '90s kids who wished they were born a decade or two earlier, donning their Walkman, listening to cassettes, swapping out one grunge gem for the next. Bea provides a much-needed trip down memory lane, but not so much that it’s a pastiche to the era, rather an ardent nod, an ode to.

The album ends suddenly and uncertainly. We’re left with plenty to mull over but, equally importantly, a great desire to hear those ginormous hooks all over again.

The album closers says “Bon Voyage” in style – with a short but infectious final offering. At just over the three minute mark, sultry vocals dominate – making sure that Viva Hinds is not a record to be forgotten, but sweetly lingers.

To Love is to Live works best when Beth channels solemnity rather than bombast. The relentless bursts of energy that punctuate the record are often thrown as wild haymakers, yet it’s the cerebral moments before they land that deliver the most rewarding blows.

Time has its highs and its lows. It’s an album that doesn’t take itself too seriously. The lyrics may be tongue-in-cheek, but the craftsmanship of each song is nothing to smirk at.

Weird Faith toys with the emotional cohesion of Diaz’s best work, resulting in an album whose sum is only the value of its parts.

For the bigger part of Screen Violence, Chvrches keep things exciting while staying unapologetically themselves.

Amongst the album’s subtler shades, some might miss Lone’s trademark fireworks, but while Reality Testing might not bear the genre-defining feel of its predecessor, its personality and refreshing humanity provide ample compensation.

They’ve come out the other side with a debut that rips and tears with a whole lot more force. The band hasn’t lost any of its wildness, any of its chaotic energy, though it does feel like they’ve gone through a bit of development: they’re now a full-sized, frothing rottweiler, instead of the growling pitbull pup they were just a few years ago.

This is a riveting, first-rate record from a man who has made quite a few of them.

We never quite reach the mind-blowing heights of the first instalment’s greatest discoveries, namely Larry Jon Wilson’s “Ohoopee River Bottomland’ and Jim Ford’s ‘I’m Gonna Make Her Love Me’, although Donnie Fritts” does-what-it-says-on-the-tin “Sumpin Funky Going On” comes very close, but the quality remains very high.

Fin is a record of intimacy and confidence, a rare and sumptuous combination that Syd has pulled off quite remarkably.

As a whole, Inventions plays nicely as the backdrop of your psychedelic dreams. In pieces, it fares much better and commands more attention.

As the album plays, even now, it’s clear why so many people got involved, it may not be something you head towards when putting a record on these days but as a long player, like all the best albums, it plays like a greatest hits collection.

Through the intelligent, measured expansion of the artistic characteristics for which he has been so respected since his departure from The Coral, Bill Ryder-Jones has confirmed his place among this country’s most vital contemporary songwriters.

They haven’t let the game dictate what they can and can’t do and, in the end, have produced an album that can proudly sit alongside the rest of their discography. Not just as an unusual curio, but as a solid piece of work of that will leave any budding space-explorer wide-eyed with wonder.

Twin Atlantic deserves credit for doing more than just leaning into the sound that earned them airplay on Great Divide, and while GLA isn't perfect it points to an exciting direction for the Glasgow outfit.

There’s nothing in the way of a bold step forward on Unseen, which is the wooziest collection of songs they’ve put out in quite a while; this is very much an album for the wee small hours.

On Don’t Let The Kids Win, Jacklin proves herself to be an unlikely alt-country heroine, delivering an impressive, if at times understated, album that shows she has enough wit and wisdom to fill up a canyon or two.

Each sophisticated melody and harmony may seem jarring and sometimes uncomfortable--as is the way with jazz music--but underneath the spiritual solos and out-there notes, there is a simple, familiar sound--and here lies the beauty of the Harmony Of Difference.

Ultimately, Re:member succeeds through the brilliance of its composer’s craftsmanship. The technological advances incorporated are, if not incidental, then very much secondary to an outstandingly humane creativity so consistently in evidence here.

There’s few missteps--a middle section which ventures off discordantly into murkier electronica never quite seems to fit a listen-through. But Wilkinson has once again proved his complete mastery of bottling a certain tone to his music through the right craft of sounds. With Ribbons, he has bottled springtime.

The context, the lyrical content, and the overwhelming volume of their sound kicks and crashes through traumatic themes, providing a cathartic burst of anxious freedom. It’s a record designed to bite chunks out of its listeners, and will probably have the same effect when heard live.

The decidedly straightforward "Curves & Swerves" and the haunting, string-backed "You Don’t Know Me" - are amongst the album’s best. These highlights point to Harvieu as a voice in English music which has been missed and is more than welcome back, and she sounds like someone intent on spinning a rare second chance into something that will stick.

At a time of uncharted fear and oppression that finds the world holding its breath as to what happens next, Mia Gargaret sounds like a vital exhalation. It may be There's Always Glimmer’s quiet sibling, but it still has plenty to say.

They’re all interesting concepts and ideas that work, but together they create a disjointed and bizarre listen.

Only Underworld have truly kept up with the consistency of The Chemical Brothers, and with the scintillating form shown on For That Beautiful Feeling, it’s going to take something really spectacular to catch up.

With tongues remaining cemented firmly in cheeks, Venom is a rip-roaring effort from Wargasm and a testament to their prowess as being “not just any metal band”.

early twenties presents Burns as a talented singer with a distinct lyrical focus.

A Firmer Hand not only cements Hawk’s status as a unique voice in modern culture but also builds anticipation for the exciting directions his future works might take on and off stage.

Each track offers a different facet of the band’s sound revealing more with each listen. Dolores Forever may have titled their album It’s Nothing, but make no mistake - this is something special.

It has the angst and energy we have come to expect, but refined through a miscellany of new sounds and influences while challenging what a Black Honey record can be, shifting away from their punk and grunge roots and cementing their growing reputation.

Although the results skitter unpredictably over genre barriers, often within a single song, the results make total, positively charged, resistance-battering sense.

It’s an album that feels made for technical appreciation, rather than necessarily engaging the listener.

Sincere, moving and musically ambitious.

Microtonic is the sound of a band faithfully heeding their muses.

It definitely helps that You and I are Earth sparkles with Savage’s most direct, open and unabashedly beautiful music to date.

It’s not for the faint hearted, but if you want to venture into the abyss, there’s a decent amount to marvel at. The future moves fast, but 100 Gecs move faster.

It’s a triumph of the UK underground and a singular vision of a band completely detached from their listeners expectations.

Ocean to Ocean ends up being Amos’s best album in recent memory for the way it manages to combine the strengths of her early music while incorporating newfound restraint and perspective.

This is not simply Koi No Yokan 2.0: if anything, its true parallel is White Pony, another moment in the band’s history that seemed to find them catching lightning in a bottle, condensing all of the elements that made their early sound so intriguing together with as-yet-unheard influences and producing a classic in the process.

War & Leisure is an album with a generous helping of highlights, not least because of Miguel’s enviable vocal versatility and affinity for dramatic songcraft, an irresistible combo that sees him playing both hero and villain in his own fantasy.

Here she is not just a musician, but a generational talent capable of creating transfixing otherworlds and, with The Gods We Can Touch, an ethereal masterpiece.

It’s Blur at the top of their game, as they had been, as they should have always been, as they deserve to be.

Distance Inbetween may not be the renaissance one would have hoped for and is a much more straightforward record than expected but there’s enough here to suggest their next record will be worth listening to.

Overall, the most amazing aspect about Somersault is that it still has that bedroom-composed feel.

With the exception of The Band-esque fable "Percy Faith", the more light-hearted material proves less memorable. Even so, The Horizon Just Laughed continues Jurado's recent winning streak.

She didn’t make a record expected of her even by fans of her last LP and, in doing so, has produced something which is strange, chaotic and utterly her own.

On Nat Ćmiel’s fourth album, styles perfected and popularised by subversive 90s acts – Massive Attack and Nine Inch Nails will spring to mind – provide the guidance needed to explore new soundscapes, encouraging the singer-songwriter to surpass all previous achievements.

The collective's return gleams with ambition. Packing the same ferocity and awe of a firework display with ebullient lighter moments shaded with synth flourishes, and rapturously prototypical loud darker ones which apprehend and shake you to the core.

While the latter half of the record isn’t as engrossing as the first half, it still concludes with a solid trio of tunes.

Kill The Lights is one of the best albums to come out so far this year, and you can listen to it four times in an hour and still not be bored. That’s great songwriting.

In My Name Is My Name, Pusha T has produced one of the most diverse and constantly rewarding hip-hop records of the year; twelve tracks tied together by a man at the top of his form and who, quite soon, may yet reach the highest summits.

If this really is the end, You Can’t Go Back... is more than a worthy addition to the story of a band who leave behind one of the--if not the--richest catalogues in sunny-side-down American songwriting; only a few slightly stale rehashes of familiar templates towards the end keep this from achieving the lofty standards of, say, 2009's We Used To Think The Freeway Sounded Like The River.

Tempered with meditative calm, space and restraint are the dutiful catalysts of each blissful rupture and devastating pay-off.

Agora is hypnotic, transient and valuable and a rarity which although oppressive at times ultimately delivers on a promise as tangible as it is striking.

Not only is Gold-Diggers Sound the most cohesive release Bridges has put out to date, it’s also the most distinctive.

Loving In Stereo is a wholehearted triumph for Jungle, yet again delivering something fresh and distinctive to cut through today’s music landscape.

What it lacks in crowd-pleasing polish is gained in atmosphere. Intimate doesn’t begin to cover it.

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.

This is a debut album that cements Fender’s place at the golden table: the perfect first attempt.

A Common Turn serves as an excellent commentary on modern life, with some intensely personal struggles that others might be wary of sharing, lined up and forensically examined.

Sleeping Through the War nods more than it winks, but it operates with its own in-joke sense of humor.

Brickbat is not an indulgent “supergroup” affair or a rehash of former glories (what would a Lush-Moose-Elastica-Modern English mashup even sound like?), it’s a chance alignment of classic alt-rock pedigree, on and of its own time.

It’s not a massive reinvention and it does generally lack the constant flow of melody that makes their previous work so irresistible. Having said that, they sit on the proverbial psychedelic throne for a reason; they’re trendsetters not copycats.

Its maximalist aesthetics and musical creativity combine to make something intensely addictive and satisfying, but it’s still inherently hard to put your finger on what exactly it is.

Thirstier seems to spin out of control in the name of artistic development. The daring dip into electronic garners mixed results.

It’s a sonic exploration that, not unlike graphic design, takes physical elements and visualises them in another manner. And it sounds incredible.

A master of mesmeric laments, Roberts can conjure dusky cemetery air in a twitching of his fingers or sombre exhalation, yet A Wonder Working Stone offers high spirits in the gloaming as well as low.

There is no question that this is a work of devotion, even a work of love, but as a document of raw emotion, it is lacking, it feels overly considered.

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.

The album is heart-warmingly straightforward and honest in its lyricism with no attempt at being unnecessarily complex for the sake of it; smartly made with a finite tale to tell.

Colourgrade can be something of a challenge, and certainly an intentional one. Tirzah seems to wonder just how far we’re willing to follow her into the maw. There’s nothing else quite like this available, yet this doesn’t make it a particularly pleasant listen.

Songs that feel tantalisingly and really quite brilliantly caught between the factual lived reality and some sort of a distorted imaginary twist of it: is the latter song about the literal devil, or a more mundane personification of a devil fond of lies, empty promises and manipulation? Who knows, and it’s in these tantalising grey areas that Utopia really shines.

Her introspection has not only led to her most vulnerable and earnest record but also a display of everything she has worked towards over her career.

The nature of the project is in a way their own noble experiment, ultimately finding them at their boldest and most assured to date.

The album captures a mixture of genres that come together to create a really vulnerable and organic sound. Kesha uses Rainbow to let her listeners into her struggles, thoughts and true personality, something missing from her previous releases.

While it’s not his greatest studio album, or even his best since the turn of the millennium, Mercy is a great example of all that Cale does well, and a real triumph. It's one of the most tonally consistent albums he's ever done.

The rare misstep aside ("Mind Blues" churns along restlessly to little obvious resolution), the extremely aptly titled Rhythm must belong amongst the year's more impressive releases.

The wonder here is that Bernholz manages to combine the contrasting elements of modern technology and Old England in a way which is both meaningful and new.

Ghosts V: Together offers us the tranquillity that we’ve been searching for during the quiescence of being on lockdown, and the ability to truly switch off for an hour, letting ourselves be guided by their eerily calm production whilst we pretend that the world isn’t actually going up in metaphorical flames before our eyes.

Keeping the ratting trap beats across most of the tracks keeps the record bang up to date, but adding in flourishes of experimental instrumentation sees Ariana going so much further.

Jellywish includes some of her most intimate work. As a listener, it’s as if you’re being privately serenaded during an exquisite chemical sunset.

A much more cohesive album than ...Like Clockwork, one that seems hell-bent on turning out an incendiary dance-rock record rather than constantly shifting stylistic shape in the way that last LP did.

Victim of Love may only be Charles Bradley’s second album but it marks another remarkable footstep in the life of its creator.

Kveikur is a record you play for the sheer catharsis of it--a work of art to plug into when grey buildings and greyer skies tower too densely around you, and you wish for nothing more than to close your eyes and feel the terrible greatness of nature swallow you up.

As emotionally sharp as ever, and as easily vulnerable but with some fierce love in her corner, this is the sound of twigs really loving what she does and putting herself at its core.

This isn’t Furman’s best album, but it might be his most heartfelt, his most intense, his most candid – and that’s more than enough for now.

Tirzah has made 11 raw, honest, and beautifully unusual pop songs that will remain with you whether you like it or not, bringing you back time and time again, motivated by your devotion to this record.

Rarely have they sounded so good.

The Blind Hole is nothing utterly mind-blowing or game-changing in the grindcore world, but it’s also not trying to be. Instead, much like a kick to the balls, it’ll remind you of what it’s like to be alive and feel primitive emotion, and sometimes that’s enough.

This follow-up is powered by the same blend of the majestically mournful and the teeth-grindingly abrasive, only with less dense textures (a good thing), and a more pronounced interest in propulsive beats and rhythms (an even better thing).

It also works as stand-alone propaganda for our friends north of the border, and album that feeds the imagination and makes you long for mountains, open space, and something a little more natural.

She is flourishing and basking in the creative control, which shines through both her songs and the visuals that accompany them.