A record that is as self-aware of the pressures of romance and stardom as it is a bare, naked representation of the singer’s heart and soul.

Petals For Armor is a display of the multifaceted truth that is ‘femininity’; Williams’ rage is complex yet simple, primal yet now more discrete.

Album stand out "Death Engine" seems to be the perfect balance of all the elements at play – it’s momentous but it stands still, it’s modern but it’s also so rose-tinted, it’s where hard percussion meets yearning keys and where elation greets loss. Sadly the album does stumble a little at the last hurdle, as "Depression Tourist" adds an unnecessarily vocoder-happy outing to the mix, but thankfully it does not fall or overshadow this otherwise stunning return.

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.

Utterly forgettable.

As well as a wide range of emotions, various musical styles are visited and executed with the causal confidence becoming synonymous with her output.

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.

Self-doubt and anxiety still flow through the veins of the record, albeit quieter and much more introspective, but this time it’s darker, and more matured. A vital record of universal emotions that makes the current global mantra of “we’re all in this together” feel just that bit more believable.

As the band continue to explore the elements of shoegaze, jazz-melodies and saccharine pop at the edges of their well-worn indie-rock, Happyness find themselves back in top form and ready to reach out once more into a chaotic unknown.

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.

The chaos and contradiction is audible throughout the record, which flips between analog alt-rock and eclectic, genre-smashing experimentation. ... It's this duality that proves to be her biggest strength.

As a songwriter and a storyteller, she’s simply never recorded anything quite like it. After so long in the game, it’s miraculous to hear her take such a fresh approach to her sound.

Fizzing with melodies, the dream-pop infused aura that emanates throughout is charming and vastly uncomplicated. Her vintage aesthetic sealing the deal.

Sure, his prowess in mope-pop makes for a voyeuristic listen, but on Shortly After Take Off he invites us to take a twitch of the curtain obscuring the life of Brian from the outside in, and it’s a spellbinding and utterly wonderful thing.

From the harp-tinged starter of “No Good”, far across the twinkling lights, broken hearts and epiphany, to thunderous claps of “…Again” A Muse holds itself aloft, floating dreamily on a sea of feeling.

Uninspired choice of featuring artist aside, the artistic breadth and depth of this project speaks to Reyez’s position as an emerging, formidable artist in her own right - someone who knows exactly what a good song, let alone a good R&B song, should sound like.

Some albums are worthy of such electric apprehension, and the chains leashing this poetic, wit-filled, ramshackle beauty should be broken. Fuck it. Fetch the bolt cutters. This feels special.

The Don of Diamond Dreams has plenty of mass appeal regardless of its unconventional style, but still Butler entices us just enough by adding bits of flair to its top tracks.

It’s true that the concept is the most rewarding aspect of these songs, but the choice of character does chime greatly with the historical moment and makes the album more distinct than it otherwise might have been.

Ultimately, this deftly intelligent record takes personal and musical themes, and presents them in a way that doesn’t feel like it’s ever been done before. Rina Sawayama is one-of-a-kind, and her debut album certainly isn’t going to be quiet about that.

On Song For Our Daughter Marling intimately portrays her subconscious, the one that’s paved the way for her to survive to this point years before these songs were recorded, in its brutal glory.

It’s a perfect pop record, from start to finish – there’s not a single filler track, each is distinctive and shows off the band’s impressive range.

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.

Eschewing the sleek production of Electric Lady Studios, which must have been mere blocks away, gives the album the raucous feeling of a bar-room jam. ... When the backing instrumentation drops out to leave Leithauser booming those words into an empty room, the album is at its most powerful.

The New Abnormal cements their continued relevance when many had been written them off, and as ever they don’t seem to care either way.

A fantastically delivered meld of indie, folk and emo, afford Born Again repeated listens and you’ll be rewarded.

If You’re Dreaming is quintessentially Anna Burch; a unique artist whose music bridges gaps between genres.

Though I can’t help but crave a return to the more dark and experimental avenue in the future, the execution here is indisputable, and album is a cohesive and worthwhile effort deserving of a wider audience’s attention.

There’s no doubt that we’ll look back on this album as an essential sound of the unparalleled social climate of 2020.

From the sharp synth stabs of “Bit Of Rain” to the distorted reflections of album closer “Awful”, all led by Rodriguez’s fantastic vocals, I’m Your Empress Of is a funky, generous and vibrant record.

As a collection of tracks Holiday descends into a humid nostalgic reflection, yet each individual song is its own small pocket of joy.

It isn’t often that metal is as direct and exhilarating as it is on Viscerals, and despite a series of songs concerned with the more unsavoury facets of life, there is a furious energy at the heart of the record it’s hard not to get swept up in.

The six-piece have retained a strong sense of the wonderfully free spirit improvisers they are on stage, but with Youth and Ben Hillier on production duties there is a more refined focus to their output. 100% Yes in turn deserves greater focus from the world at large.

That such revelations can be borne out of isolation should be a comfort to us all right now, and Cenzias is a record expansive enough to open up even the smallest rooms.

On It Is What It Is, Stephen Bruner’s eccentric hyperactivity is on full display, bouncing from jittery bass chops to fat West Coast funk. He balances the spacey jazz fusion of his early records with the signature neo-yacht rock perfected on Drunk (2017).

Through Water is an album that was made to move you – physically and emotionally – and most importantly, to make you feel. Water as a substance is intrinsic to our very being, and through Låpsley’s intention, is complex enough to touch us all.

If destruction is more your appetite, then Ghosts VI: Locusts provides an aural embodiment of the uncertainty and discourse.

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.

Each track is like a piece of the puzzle. You’re looking at the shapes in front of you thinking that they will never fit together; then somehow, given time, everything clicks into place. That satisfactory snap into place is what Little Dragon has been searching for. Their wait is now over.

Illusion of Time can sound more like a proof-of-concept piece than a fully-fledged album. However, if you can reconcile yourself to this fact, there’s some truly outstanding ambience to be experienced here.

Future Nostalgia is an artist in total control. It’s built on such an addictive carefree spirit that it’s hard not to let loose and go with it. The greatest pop star of this generation? That’s for you to decide. But Future Nostalgia makes a very convincing argument that Dua Lipa just might be.

It holds the best batch of Waxahatchee songs yet, with Crutchfield at her most candid, raw and clear-eyed. This is the work of someone who’s begun to write a bold new chapter in her life, and it’s special stuff.

It’s an unexpected but fitting swansong: like Brams’ presence in Stevens’ life and work, it is a gentle guide, and an encouragement to give our thoughts space.

3.15.20 is as spell-binding, illuminating and honest as any of the great albums in recent history. Aspects hold themselves as hard and brutal as Kanye West's Yeezus, yet these moments are tempered by ones of beauty and elegance as enthralling as anything you’d find on Solange’s recent records, or Tame Impala’s for that.

Unfortunately, despite the gravitas, at times it feels a bit like you’re listening to a late-night free jazz jam. When it hits the mark, Rose Golden Doorways rears its head and roars in a concrete wasteland, but there are moments of chin-stroking weirdness that fall flat of the eldritch dread Rochford and co are trying to create.

From their start, Oh Wonder were putting out high quality tracks that were stylistically interesting and excellently produced. In some ways, it would be foolish of them to deviate from the formula that served them so well in the past. As a record, this is unsurprising by wholly satisfying nonetheless.

The Night Chancers is Dury’s most accomplished work, its self awareness and innate understanding of genre and language shows the songwriter to be in the prime of his creativity.

Dungen Live is first and foremost a team effort, a totem for the kind of intuitive and intoxicating musical family communion that is hard to come by.

A bold record of resilience. You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere is, in essence, a rock record. But it is a rock record that asks for more, unafraid to scratch that little bit deeper.

Deap Lips, is less of a synthesis and more of a compromise. A diamond in the rough rather than a crown jewel. Undoubtedly more experimental than the Lips’ last collaborative effort, the music is still tinged with that same whiff of self-indulgence.

The Wants debut is bold, daring and incredibly effective. Separating itself from the regular indie noise, Container is an album that tells a compound narrative while experimenting cleverly with fine attention to detail.

It’s safe to say Wilson is feeling a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll on Dixie Blur, and as with his other albums, the stylistic tweaks fit him like a glove.

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.

Juniore’s cinematic yet understated psychedelia provides much-needed opportunity for escapism in these turbulent times, and allows us to dip our toes into a world where all that matters are happenin’ hooks and rad riffs.

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.

Her trademark confidence is now tinged with a newfound self-awareness, as if evolving through her experience of the joys and pitfalls of celebrity. ... Surprisingly, the standout track from the record, “Crying in the Car”, is a diorama of nostalgia, melancholy and faith, counterbalancing Megan’s overall ethos of optimistic self-empowerment. ... For listeners, it makes a strong case for the rapper’s longevity within the increasingly fickle world of music.

The formative spiral of ideas dabbled with on previous albums recedes, giving way to a pearl of accumulated wisdom - a new beginning for the three-piece that proves reflective, ambitious and openly confessional.

[“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.

The direct intimacy with Slone’s inner-thoughts, witnessed both in terms of its creative flourishes and depressive ramblings, is also indicative of this vividly local feature. It'll be the challenge of managing this aesthetic as they continue to grow, especially following the release of such an excellent record, that could prove central as to where they head next.

The widened musical palette helps to pull you in while the songs are digging in their hooks. Pollard's production is astute enough to know when the most potent thing to do is to fade away.

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.

While Suddenly’s highlight tracks buzz with upbeat glamour, Snaith is smart enough to tone a portion of the LP with their contrasts. Although short-lived, this is what made Swim so memorable.

Although The Main Thing isn’t perfect, it serves as their version of it as we see Real Estate continuing to be both consistent and reliable as ever.

You might miss the electric-burn intensity of the lead guitars from In a Poem Unlimited, or you might miss the Iggy’s The Idiot-meets-Marc Bolan-and-Madonna-on-a-Tarantino-soundtrack vibes, but ultimately, there’s just as much to enjoy here. Heavy Light is more subdued, more restrained, and certainly more beautiful than its big sister.

Disco Volador feels like a journey into a world undiscovered, without ever feeling too alien.

This is a record written in a time of blues, yellows, and greys, but the overarching feeling is that of purification. Color Theory is an album both of pure catharsis, and proof of musical prowess.

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.

Allie X's debut, 2017's CollXtion II, was a fun, if simplistic outing, but Cape God is an album undeniably made by a woman truly forging her own path however she sees fit. Not to mention championing the wickedly bright future of avant-garde, ascendant music.

It is an impressive, exciting and moving album with slick production, accompanied by thought-provoking art (the interpretative dance performance in the “Black Swan” video, the CONNECT BTS art exhibitions), but it is so much more than a shiny pop album. It is a love letter to pain, to the shadows that live within us.

Miss_Anthrop0cene is great. And much of what makes it great are the unavoidable, personal obsessions that Boucher has always carried with her: science fiction, nerd culture, Eastern scales, loop-pedal musicality, and an uncool love for the kind of bass you'd expect to be blasting out at Burning Man.

A celebration and a middle finger as Banoffee reclaims her strength across tracks driven by wonky pop sensibilities and a drop of infectious playfulness.

On 2017 – 2019 he again shows us why he is one of the most vital electronic acts of the 21st century.

The results are musically elegant, emotionally eloquent, and absolutely vital.

There is certainly less filler here than on previous albums, but there are still points which feel a little dull or repetitious.

Rateliff’s faced those feelings head-on and come out the other side with a meaningful album full of subtle beauty, and one that’s buoyed by the prevailing feeling of hope; hope that things will still be alright.

This album is not a timeless classic, it is a du jour album that showcases a drummer and producer’s talent at capturing the sound of the times. It should be enjoyed as such: a testament to young musicians blending tradition and modernity in exciting new ways.

Denzel and Kenny have proven that they’re able to consistently put out E.P.s, singles and albums that are exciting in a way no other artists could be.

The album is an unguarded, autobiographical account of Visser’s most precious and challenging moments. The music doesn’t just shine, it reveals the individual struggle of “growing up, moving on, and everything that happens in between,” says Visser.

While lacking the convention-breaching identity of Currents, Tame Impala commits to a formula that will undoubtedly guarantee heavy rotation – an album sporting plenty of standouts and very little filler.

It's clear what they've wanted to do, and in some aspects have nailed it head-on, but to execute this properly, there needs to be more focus on wrapping that pure-as-fuck punk heart that beats in their chests in something more than a cartoon unicorn.

At times strained, others contemplative, though always whimsical, theirs is a carefully constructed character, one that refuses to take itself too seriously though never dares become anything close to disinterested. And for that, and indeed much else, they should be highly commended.

Unfortunately, there are too many missteps for this to feel like any kind of progress on their debut, even if the sentiment behind the tracks remain essential. Sløtface clearly still have much to say; they just need to work out a way of rediscovering their voice.

On her third, La Roux shows that she can write a melody like few others in the business today, but it’s hard to look past how similar each song really is.

Committed to a style and substance that simultaneously looks to the past and future, the five-piece soundtrack their role as esoteric prophets of doom with a sonic credo that proves genuinely idiosyncratic in the current climate – sharp, wit-filled and uninhibited stuff.

While you could write off this album for not attempting to push any musical boundaries, there's an authenticity to their relatable lyricism that gives reason to their polarising popularity.

With clever twists of post-production, Makaya chops and resamples not only his own band but also choice words and phrases of each stanza, making the poetry a percussive element and drawing out emphasis. A decade after his death, Gil Scot-Heron’s final oeuvre has finally settled into something great.

On Workaround, Beatrice Dillon leaves us to ponder how she’ll continue to transform the idea of techno and club culture.

A celebration of lightness, of fun, and of growing, learning, healing, High Road confidently and comfortably reconciles the different sides of Kesha which previously felt separate.

This demonstration of versatility provides a hint of what could happen if the yin and yang find a little peace. As it is, on Silver Tongue, their occasional struggle leaves us with a worthy album with definite highlights, but some unfulfilled potential.

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 packed with humour, drama, anger and sadness, all brought together by ALA.NI’s artistic direction. ACCA is a one-woman show that will have you glued to your seat – your toilet break will just have to wait.

All of this adds up: if you’ve enjoyed anything Dan Bejar has done under the Destroyer moniker, you’ll love Have We Met. If you’ve never heard a Destroyer album before, you’ll probably love it too.

It’s the imagery that Williams draws from in her lyrics that places you there. ... Despite the sense of movement, one doesn’t get the feeling that Williams is driving, running or swimming towards nor away from anything in particular. Rather, that she’s on the journey because it means something in itself to sit alone in a dark and silent car and see everything become clearer.

On the whole, the album is excellent. It’s a return to what Squarepusher is known most prominently for but his style has developed since the '90s.

Taken all together, When We Stay Alive is the sound of an individual and a band finding a new purpose, a new way to live and create – even if it is within the confines of familiarity.

Big Conspiracy is an album that certifies J Hus as one of the most influential artists in UK music.

Thin Mind speaks to the concerns of an age fraught with ennui and commodification; much-needed social commentary scored with the understated, melodic, often allusive edge that is the outfit’s creative stamp.

The band have always been wonderfully, discordantly rowdy, and this genre of guitar-driven country-park encapsulates their chaos perfectly. The Georgia band fully embrace their roots on their ninth studio offering, a delightful sheen of old-school Americana coating the album.