Since bursting on to scene with “Young Blood” all those years ago, The Naked and Famous have proven themselves to be more than well-deserved mainstays in the indie bop world.

L.A. Witch has managed to capture lightning in a bottle with enough space for you to stand back and observe without getting singed.

SUGAREGG is not without its moments of doubt and misfires. Regardless, it’s a product of its context, an artefact indicative of a change in intent and perspective by its creator. It’s a product full of joy, not maddening, but genuinely uplifting and encouraging. It’s also the best thing Bognanno has written.

Chockful of jazz that embraces you in a familiar feeling, Source is akin to an old friend you may not see for a while, but whenever you do, the world feels that little bit brighter and it’s as if no time has passed at all.

Songs For The General Public is a landmark album, unlike any other, that draws from the past, churns it up, modernises it and chucks it into our present with sonic-like energy through sheer effervescing talent.

Escapism running through its veins, right down to the gentle “woah-oh’s” or cascading drums, Imploding The Mirage works because it doesn’t try hard but still pulls all of those components we’ve come to know and love together.

He is a true, wonderful artist that seems – on this evidence – to be on a one-man mission to take country out farther into the wilderness that its ever been. Make sure you’re along for the ride.

While it's certainly missing any form of coherency, Witness does feel like you're growing with Perry - going on this journey that's helped her find new ground and a reinvigorated appreciation for all walks of the pop music spectrum.

With every listen, each song takes on a new richness, becoming something that will simultaneously become the sound of summer, yet a particular personal soundtrack that you’ll keep on coming back to.

There’s a confidence, an appealing weirdness to Twin Heavy which looks keen to stretch the limits of the genres it might be categorised under. Completely unrestrained in his approach, and with a noticeably slick evolution since 2017’s People and Their Dogs, Willie J Healey seems set to continue in his upward trajectory of…wherever it is he feels like going next.

While Purple Noon is likely Greene’s most lackluster output, it’s not a total bust. He does manage to squeeze in a few noteworthy moments that briefly highlight his songwriting.

While still offering glimmers of Jaga Jazzist’s undefinable, futuristic aspirations, the maximalist ethos of Pyramid ultimately comes across as oddly old-fashioned at a time when acts like 75 Dollar Bill are redefining the hypnotic potential of instrumental soundscapes.

JAGUAR is another step forward for a career that’s been toiling and honing. Monét's moment won't be soon before long.

A lusciously uninhibited collection of songs, bringing together a host of collaborators from across the world of indie, rock and pop, providing an introspective accumulation of intimate musings, indie bangers and synth-pop sounds.

With their newest offering, the trio traverse an incredible diversity in sound. ... The band’s ability to switch effortlessly between energetic, grunge-fuelled rock songs and sweet, emotional poignance, is something to be wholeheartedly admired.

2020’s Morissette is as emotional as ever and her songs are incredibly heartfelt.

A vibrant and digestible yet existential and thought-provoking treat.

Fairhurst has delivered his most cohesive record yet, filled with love, sadness, excitement and familiarity – the essential building blocks that helped to fortify the foundations of house music decades ago.

PJ Harvey’s honesty and raw sound throughout Dry is what makes it an album that continues to stand the test of time.

"Born Cold" sounds like HIM, though with a slight pop-punk tinge to the chorus as Gould almost whines “do I look so good that you wanna treat me bad?” ‘Thorns of Love’ immediately feels like an old Gaslight Anthem track, and "Napalm Girls" – along with much of the record – has Alkaline Trio written all over it. This is no bad thing – Gould’s delivery of each line is fantastic, and the lyrics are lofty in multiple different ways. It’s exciting and feels fresh set against the current scene, but it feels just a little too all over the place.

The result is an incredibly reflective, contemplative body of word that shows a seldomly seen quietude to the quartet.

Raw, thoughtful, and thought-provoking, Love & Peace teleports you to the dusty plains of America’s vast countryside where life seems a little simpler.

This is an album of Swift at her most knowing, pushing away the tabloid fodder that has often surrounded her artistry and magnifying the talent she's been honing her entire life. The melodies are full of warmth and round-edges, moving and twinkling on her whim as she indulges in one of the most most human and timeless past-times we have.

This is a powerful, brave and endlessly rewarding album made by a band who have risked it all to make a giant leap towards fulfilling their potential.

Kamaal Williams’ Wu Hen knows what it is and what it doesn’t want to be. It pays respect to the music it’s imitating and iterating upon, in all of its many forms and in spite of it, it manages to carve out a space in the scenes for itself.

The Aces are reaching for the stars on this release, and the glimmers of what they could be further down the road burn bright. Unfortunately the album is brought back to Earth when their usually precise hooks and focused direction are left behind in favour of lackadaisical experimentation – the candid lyrics manage to cut through, but it's easy to imagine this album being seen as transitionary in hindsight.

Continuing to imbibe her music with a remarkable pathos that has these new songs greeting the listener like familiar friends by the second spin, Courtney Marie Andrews keeps growing and Old Flowers is the fruit of this blossom.

Though it doesn’t quite scratch the same itch for experimentation as her last album, Lanza has once again proved that she’s a forward-thinking producer with a knack for writing irresistible pop music.

Far more than an angry reactive, Tudzin proves herself to be a wily observer and highly competent commentator, as capable of a considered repose as she is a cutting catchphrase.

It’s an exercise in flexibility, in collaboration and support of new, largely unknown talent. It speaks not of a stale money grab, but of a conscious desire to stretch and explore his talent, exploring outside of his comfort zone, and to make not just another Streets album.

While moments on Species don’t quite touch on the grandeur we’ve heard from Moore in the past, the trio more than make-do by enticing us still. They’ve created an album that melds into what feels like a massive piece, our patience is required to see how it unfolds, to realize what’s contained inside, and what to do with that information if we ever uncover it.

On Flower of Devotion, production is sharper, lyrics cut deeper, and the palette is more diverse, making for a much more rewarding listen than last year’s Water and their 2016 debut.

Raw, and real, and often emotional, Pain Olympics is a turbulent journey through the world of this community, proving in itself to be a successful outlet for those creating it, while also offering solace and alliance for those that need it.

In short, it feels like Ellie Goulding at her most honest, and her most heartfelt.

It is reassuring then to know that through it all Protomartyr lurch relentlessly forwards. Ultimate Success Today has the power of an exorcism, and even if it is not a cure for the sickness, it is somewhere to hide in these dark times.

It's due to the effortless nature of his rhythm and rhyme let the words float with direction, but it's not until you properly hone in on the syllables do you find the map unravelling, and the bigger picture coming to life that helps the poison sink in with the trap beats.

What makes Massey Fucking Hall an overall success is that it represents a particularly visceral aspect of live performance - not the communion with other fans, or the technical achievement that comes with a particularly slick stage show, but instead the primal joy of noisy, boisterous rock and roll.

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.

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.

Margo Price has broken free from the shackles of country music on That’s How Rumors Get Started, pivoting effortlessly and elegantly towards a classic rock sound. There’s a whole lot more space and freedom to express herself now, and it suits her real well.

This follow-up to 2018’s Might As Well With My Soul, in some sense, serves to highlight the band’s underrated ability to deviate from well-worn norms.

Pure Luxury’s strengths issue from the way it commits wholeheartedly to a brash sonic blueprint, the unremittingly sleek surface polish sharpening its underlying social commentary - Lovett’s songwriting at its most multi-layered.

The Beths have managed to create another overwhelmingly thrilling record. One in stunning communion with their debut but also distinctly its own creature.

Overall, Modern Dread is an insightful, authentic record delivered with understated panache, and Denai Moore’s captivates despite minor imperfections.

A. A. Williams has allowed her listeners to exorcise difficult emotions on this record. She provides an aural tonic through her idiosyncratic, beautifully executed sounds.

There are one or two slightly lacklustre moments, such as "Hold On Me", which doesn’t feel like it belongs, but they are far outnumbered and outshined by the groove of songs like "Old Flame" and the smart, questioning lyrics of "Validation". It’s a record that challenges complacency

Their execution is highly impressive, Bedroom may be retro in its thinking, but on this debut bdrmm have proved to be forward thinking in execution. An assured and brilliant debut.

On Sunset could be viewed as an album reinstating Weller as the keeper of mod musical tradition, but it’s also an album that sees him taking a rare glance into the rear-view mirror as he speeds into the '20s.

Self-produced and mixed, A Portrait of an Ugly Man feels all at once familiar and fresh.

This shift further into sounds of the dancefloor obviously comes with no hands in the air hedonism, they stick firmly to their monochrome formula but by adding flourishes of colour to their sound they've made their best album yet.

This is a warming, rewarding album that grows with each listen, blossoming and unfurling in front of you. If you can get past the intensity, and see through to the glowing heart at the centre of this record, it’ll keep you coming back again and again.

On Our Two Skins, Payten reckons with big decisions and big changes, claiming them as part of her life to beautiful effect.

The record makes constant reference to dreams, with the theme appearing in seven of its eight songs. At times it symbolises a joyful disbelief, at other times a moment away from a heavy reality, and at others still a world shared between two lovers. More than anything, the recurring idea of dreams softens the edges of the earth-shaking changes to Bonnetta’s life, letting him drift gently between real life and the inside of his head in search of a view of it all that makes sense.

The group sit deeper than ever in their grooves on their third outing, and the moments of tranquillity are even more zen. Mordechai offers a rich, meditative escape from the world, something more welcomed than ever in the current climate.

KiCk I is a consistently enjoyable, so the fact it still feels like something of an anti-climax is testament only to Arca’s history of braveness and originality.

Though the album was written before the effects of a global pandemic bedded in, its motifs of isolation and distance speak clearly to our current moment – mourning for places to gather hit hard by the actual and symbolic sterilisation of public space.

[An] excellent record: the guitars throughout the album are aggressive and sharp-edged, the bass is consistently robust and roaring, and rhythms are serpentine and oppressive - barely a moment goes by that you aren’t feeling Shah’s own claustrophobia, the weight of her own aging bearing down on your shoulders.

Bobby’s Motel is a big, bold slap in the face right from the start. Manic Bobby greets you at the door, takes you by the hand, and leads you straight to the dancefloor.

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.

Gum Country’s fun is earned. They take a face-value look at life, and conclude that even when it’s hard, it doesn’t need to be heavy.

WIMPIII culminates in a kind of languidness which shows that sometimes you have to let the songs lead you, rather than coercing them into something they shouldn’t be. There’s a coherence that exudes from the sparsity in the songs, and they’re never left feeling empty.

Though the lyricism and imagery present across The Avalanche might be some of Kinsella’s bleakest, and a stark contrast to the soft subtleties of its instrumentation, it’s also some of his strongest and most transparent.

By taking dubstep’s ideas and expanding them, one of the icons of that half-beloved, half-derided era has made a kind of a time capsule; granting longevity to an era of music which had liberation at its heart.

Punisher triumphs in the joy and pathos that’s to be found in returning to its stories, where like Donna Tartt’s A Secret History, there’s always new depths, clues and answers that make you want to dive right back in.

Rough and Rowdy Ways is long, intricately woven and illuminating as a medieval tapestry, and just as precious. It’ll make you cry, it’ll make you tear your hair out, it’ll make you gasp with awe.

Room for the Moon appears to have it all, whilst remaining cohesive — it’s an eccentric entity in itself, but also the work of one.

A luscious, intricate body of work, Shadow Offering recounts pain, heartbreak, anger, and everything else that nestles in the heart of humanity before lifting the trodden towards the light of hope.

Acting as both sultry invitation and empowered self-confession, the song is a clarion call for all those who deign to diminish the duo’s talents – talents that blaze through on Ungodly Hour with a full and unrelenting force.

Startisha, as such, finds Juwan transcending genre without qualm, a path crossed by many, but delivered here with a precision and confessional centre that feels innate, organic and without lull.

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.

Garratt’s latest offering is a triumphant return. It is an album that does not ask you to relate to his pain, nor tells you to dance over your problems. It is an album that tells a story and ultimately, holds no fear.

A record full of handsome brass parading around an etch a sketch of ever changing life and love, Weeks holds the frame and with each listen you hear something you didn’t the previous time. A Quickening is your own bundle of joy you can love time and again, minus the diaper changes.

This is a strong record, and it shows that Ohmme have safely navigated the pitfalls of the dreaded second album syndrome. Here, they sound mature, focused, well-drilled.

Hutson continues his startling ability to generate a world of his creation, and our making. It’s the little things that gift Hutson’s songs with a penetrable honesty, balanced between the softly plucked strings - beauty and realism.

This box set is a treasure trove for people who’ve never heard any of Iggy Pop’s various bootlegged and semi-official releases over the years, especially the releases pertaining to this era. The quality of these albums – and Bowie’s entire Berlin period – is so high because the sessions were so economical, and no ideas were abandoned along the way.

The record may be 24 tracks long, but it is delivered at such a speed that it packs its punches long before the ice in your drink has a chance to melt.

Much like its predecessor, GENE fuses flights of accessibility in parallel with the unorthodox, achieving a split-tone depth that at once evokes a murky, warbling uneasiness and in equal measure boasts splashes of untroubled psych-pop brilliance. Earworms deployed in quick succession, Dust helms familiar inventiveness and ingenuity that can sometimes feel a rarity.

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.

It’s an incredibly tight record packed with stellar performances, production and presence throughout. The blood, sweat and tears of hip-hop run through the album, but Gibbs has once again redefined what that means.

With multiple writers Sideways to New Italy perhaps lacks the focus and clear direction that the music deserves; stark changes in vocal styles can break an aural ‘fourth wall’ and remind the listener that the songwriters, while complementary, are also competing with one another for our attention.

An album that feels spacious and cinematic, genuinely human and loaded with emotion. It’s one of the classiest and most refined listening experiences you’ll have all year.

RTJ4 is Killer Mike & El-P’s masterstroke. This is musical evolution for moral, social and political revolution, the group now creating anthems in the pursuit of tolerance, respect and unity.

Crampton packs a world of sound into her albums, and to listen is to undertake a journey of sorts.

Combining the spirit of Britpop with the attitude of modern day post punk, tracks like “Going Soft” , “Here It Comes Again” and the familiar cries of “Camel Crew” and “Kutcher”, swell, expand and know just when to pull the pin into an eruption of chaos.

Chromatica is not Lady Gaga returning to form, that would imply she’s ever had a dull moment - even Joanne held its own in a world of expectation - what is however, is an embellishment of who she is, both inward and outward, in a moment where the world needs beating, pulsating music to get lost in.

It's a deft endeavour in making an album that speaks to the most bombastic music of the past, and it's an enjoyable listen – just be wary of ear fatigue.

By failing to commit fully to straight pop craftsmanship or to genre-bending experimentation, the project feels lyrically bland and sonically uninspired.

As the next chapter in an unimpeachably reliable catalog, Nicole Atkins couldn’t ask for anything more from Italian Ice, preserving her artistic hallmarks, deepening her emotional lyrical depth, while broadening her stylistic palette.

Its best moments also its most agitated. For those of us keen on more of the same from York and co, let's just hope she keeps her beady eye on the anxieties of the everyday and not on paying a visit to outerspace.

The strength of Don't Let The Ink Dry comes from its mixture of vulnerability and power, both apparent in the vocal delivery where they subsist in harmony.

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.”

Deceptively simple, yet holding a world of complexity within it, Yeo-Neun is airy abandon in parts and heavy sensitivity in others. Remarkably honest and creatively challenging, the album projects into a constant companion, whether with its unflinchingly beautiful musicality or its daring noisiness.

Notes has no such common context, and ends up feeling flat, directionless and inessential, where its forebears felt vital, worthy of devoting a life to. For a band with proven dexterity in deftly capturing the nuances and quick changes of contemporary conversation, it is disheartening to witness them with nearly nothing of note to say.

Williamson truly soars when her moving vocals combine with the vivid imagery that is painted through the lyrics.

Hadreas may be uncompromising but stubbornness has its rewards: few albums feel as distinct or as complete as his.

Wholly a spontaneous offering, entirely DIY in production, and made from the creative confines of whatever was available to the singer in self-isolation; Charli XCX has proved that music really can be made anywhere, with anything, during a period where the world is on pause, and still sounds like the future is hers to play with.

It grows immediately after every listen. Its effects have some kind of exponential growth in your head, where you can find yourself humming melodies that appear once or twice in one track. His songwriting is that infectious.

Overall, Have U Seen Her? strikes a great balance between rocking out with piercing, lacerating soundscapes and soothing nerves with heartfelt songwriting encompassed in diverse melodies. The balance falters at points but it’s never irreparable as ALMA rights it again with the natural magnetism of her music.