Though much is often said about Sunflower Bean’s sounds of the past, Twenty Two In Blue is an impressive reflection of their formative years and a place to start talking about their future.

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

They’ve given the folk-drenched musical world of the last few years a well timed kick in the balls.

RTXIV was a superb, full-throttle rock ‘n’ roll record, but Electric Brick Wall is a next-level release.

KicK iii is a more turbulent entry in the Arca universe: its relentless ability to generate movement out of stillness makes it one of her most accomplished works to date.

If You See Me... has the potential to mark the beginning of something very special.

If you’re ever walking by rundown buildings of the same stature, listen to Shaking Hand and let the colour in the mundanity reveal itself to you.

He has cultivated an allure and a presence by, paradoxically, remaining extremely quiet for long-periods of time. He has survived through the quality of his creative vision. Product streamlines this vision into a singular "product" that although is not an essential purchase, is still essential listening.

Preservation hits the hardest when there are zero or few added ingredients to divert attention from the voice, the melodies and the words.

This joyful little geode of an album--a 38-minute pocket of melodies that cluster, sparkle, and spike--has a powerfully anti-cynical energy to it,

This isn’t just required listening; it’s also a realization that McCraven’s efforts offer us a glimmer of hope – somehow lifting us up and pushing us towards the heavens.

The remastering work across the whole album is more subtle than might have been feared in that it does not draw attention to itself, but simply and effectively brings out more clearly than before the (positive) group dynamics and the sonic range. .... The three records are in an attractive tri-fold sleeve, though it would have been good, for such a lavish and correspondingly expensive product, to have the paper inner sleeves for both the studio album and the live one poly-lined.

They’ve consolidated on the progression made between their first two albums and in turn produced their finest effort to date.

Now it’s all about reinvention rather than replicating a sound, and by coalescing various influences and styles Chorusgirl have the balance just about right.

Wild Light as a whole represents the band’s most ambitious work to date; it’s a meticulously crafted and admirably complex record from a band that are constantly thrilling in their unpredictability.

Dream Wife is a fierce finger to the patriarchy for a fresh and socially aware generation.

It’s a thought-out piece of work; a collection of collaborating and competing daubs of colour across a blank canvas; a flock of sounds moving together as one, for one simple reason alone: to bring you joy.

The band is tighter, more focused, and have honed their sound ever more slightly, tossing in snippets of texture and becoming even leaner.

The Road Part 1 may just be the album that finally sees Lavelle step away from the shadows of Unkle’s debut. The star power is there, the record beckons to be listened to on repeat, and there's definitely an anticipation of what is to come on The Road Part 2.

Diana Ross simply has no right to produce music this engaging, this vital, at this point in her life - and this devil may care attitude has enabled her to produce one of the most definitive bodies of work in her entire career.

Each song a little burst (nothing over 2:30), the rough ’n’ ready charm to Stay Alive is where it shines like a diamond plucked from the depths of blackened coal. It feels like Grace is in the room, life unfurling from her mind and straight into music.

VanGaalen’s sixth album shows him easing more into his bright and disorienting vision.

Unreal is a labyrinthine effort you’ll find almost impossible to not get lost in.

This is a collection that displays consistently and rigorously the undervalued, underexposed talent of one of the country’s best post-Ray Davies songwriters and one that, despite its length and sometimes haphazard nature is a fitting milestone to this prolific, profound and playful master of the songwriting form.

There’s an air of mystery that surrounds Sternberg and their songs – as if you’re encountering someone who is both stronger and more fragile than they appear. It’s this elusive quality that prompts one to visit and revisit this music. As much as Sternberg reveals, that much – and more – roils beneath the surface.

There’s a unique heart hidden deep with every album he creates, and Power Chords is no different. Open yourself up to the world of Krol.

Tip of the Sphere tackles generally what we’d expect it to--but with no disappointment, McCombs functions as a fail-safe narrator for our time. Within the LP’s musings, we as listeners look to him as he maintains a sense of worldliness and top-tier deftness as a songwriter and within those wonders and expectations, he invites us along as we get the chance to engage with his particular, introspective vision.

Jurado has remained steadfastly allergic to any stereotypical singer-songwriter navel-gazing from day one, and perhaps it’s this aversion to familiar templates that both keeps the masses at an arm’s length and makes albums like Reggae Film Star so richly rewarding for those in the know.

LP5 is an album which simply affords itself space to breathe. Whether it be in Ring’s confidence in allowing a guest artist to fill the immediate musical landscape or the deference paid to the traditions of both electronic and acoustic music alike it all works together to create one of Sascha Ring’s most comprehensive releases to date.

Electric is a work of renewed purpose, whose short time-frame and scant tracklist (no PSB album has ever clocked in shy of ten songs) belie the gems that lie within.

The Weather Station is a model example of expanding an act’s sound without losing sight of what made them great to begin with.

There’s a shagginess to some of the tracks here, and a producer without skin in the game might have taken a pair of shears to the record, but that would be tantamount to criminal damage. The Hard Quartet is like four suburban dads starting a garage band on a whim, only with prime beef musicians and a huge label behind them, and if that’s not charming in this day and age, nothing is.

It’s a definitive project encapsulating body autonomy, queer love, humour and fury, all the more confidently told by a vocal chameleon whose performance stands out amongst the rich production traversing decaying foliage, fizzling suns and AI leaders.

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.

This compilation, of tracks from 2003-2013, captures what’s utterly brilliant about the A&C roster by mixing the hits with rarer tracks, giving perhaps the definitive overview of the Canadian music scene of the past ten years.

Their debut packs a far mightier punch than the output of almost any other contemporary group with whom they may share certain influences; not bad for a fictitious band, really.

This is ain't your average country record.

The Competition proves a multi-layered offering from the two-piece, juxtaposing viscerally relevant themes with modulating, often overpowering soundscapes. It's volatile, beguiling stuff, and utterly distinctive.

Lazerbeak’s imaginative, propulsive beats continually push things to the next level, with Olson’s refined recording and edits (along with hypeman Cliff Rhymes lyrical flourishes) giving these tracks an inspired pulse. But Lizzo still has more than enough room to eloquently and intensely express herself.

It’s this ability to take the familiar and present it in dramatically different forms, with the potential for rediscovery that this allows, which makes Hitchhiker--faults and all--a must-hear for Neil Young fans.

At 25, Hartzman’s old enough to romanticize her youth but world-weary enough not to try recapturing it. The space between the two – reckless childhood and cynical maturity – is where Wednesday resides, but they manage to find beauty in it all.

Of course half the fun is in hearing how the band have transformed oh-so-familiar songs into something quite different, and transform them they truly have.

By harnessing their roots that made their debut LP, We Are NOTS, so celebrated, 3 finds the group adhering to a similar framework with its ten tracks. Nots underpin their hook-driven racket with themes of decaying existence and what it means to reemerge on the other side, liberated and ready for a fight.

Visions of Bodies Being Burned, like its predecessor, is macabre and monstrous in all of the ways that your leering curiousity would have it. It’s a taut exploration of hatred and hostility, one which stands shoulder-to-shoulder with its demonic older brother.

Baio’s third and latest doesn’t drastically divert from type as such but presents his songwriting at its most concrete in pace, malleability and variety.

It’s complex, witty, and--crucially--taps into a side of each man’s creativity in a manner hitherto unseen.

The angular flexes in style and wordplay tied together with Russell’s high wire deployment prove as duly consistent a formula as any of the standout entries in the duo’s crowded discography.

Living Fields achieves that rare feat of giving electronic music a beating heart, and is without a doubt one of the best records of its class this year.... And although Portico as musicians are still pushing themselves to new places, they’re not quite pushing the listener as far as they used to.

The result isn’t just Moore’s finest solo album: this is some of the most remarkable music he’s ever been involved in.

With this album, Palace have offered a spiritual voyage through the fluctuations of life, and the uncertainty that holds its hand. If Shoals is anything to go by, Palace will be filling stadiums before too long.

A collection that future-proofs Kavinsky’s curation of high-end production, addictive earworms and cinematic scope.

Migos never try to recreate anything they’ve already done, but simply deliver more music that reflects their contagious, unadulterated flow. Culture is an album where they seize a moment of much-deserved success.

Brimming with eclecticism and highlighting Bock’s emotional range, Giant Palm is a stellar debut and one of 2022’s more distinct releases.

Whilst there are echoes of the bluster of Florence and the Machine and the minimalist soul of Jessie Ware here, Soft Control is a distinctive take on modern pop and an album with crossover appeal.

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

The Magic proves surreal until the very end, just as promised.

Fish is his fortieth release where the folksy fingerpicking comes lightly southern fried and, lyricless, It’s virtuoso playing which tells Michael’s story

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.

The intensely moving track ["Don’t Be Afraid"]--and the entire album itself--perfectly illustrates the idea that we all have a magnificent universe within ourselves just waiting to be discovered, and that we should never be fearful of uncovering exactly who and where we are.

The presence of a full band in the studio and the proverbial writer’s room gives Raspberry Moon the dynamic presence previous records swapped for a consistent, syrupy atmosphere. While plenty of radiated sunbeam ragers populate the tracklist, acoustic ballads and delicacy are the real calling cards of this album.

Johnston has made and most importantly shared a very good record here, one that stands as a reminder of his immense talent, of his longevity, of his kindness in spreading the benefit of his skill among younger, adoring fan-bands and yes, if you must, his power to overcome those much discussed mental problems.

For listeners who have a penchant for darker, glossier rock in the vein of Portishead, Jane Weaver or even Radiohead, this is an essential listen. For everyone else, it might prove to be an acquired taste, but one that lingers long after the dessert has been served.

Profound Mysteries doesn’t quite have the timelessness of Melody AM, but it certainly lives up to Röyksopp’s reputation as a duo that has perfected the art of dishing out electronic hugs.

With keen ears for melody, turbo-paced beats perspire, and episodic SFX rouses either pure revelry or contemplation. She’s on to a marvellous start.

Thumbtacks and Glue is no less nuanced or nourishing, and every song is satisfying. Undulating orchestration, the lift and swell, matches Mark Andrew Hamilton’s eccentric lyrical slant and seraphic singing to produce immaculate and endearing music.

A superb debut.

Here is your soundtrack to that world, perhaps unsurprisingly it rocks righteously.

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.

In many ways, Föllakzoid’s latest is the kind of album to lose yourself in, a void to fall through or a sea to sink into. In the band’s ongoing effort to depurate and cleanse their sound, they have created an album that is at once ominous and tranquil, only occasionally held back by a delay in presenting its most interesting ideas.

Scott could have easily made another distorted, debaucherous project like his previous two albums, but by emphasizing his vocal performances and finding the best middle ground he ever has with his bevy of superstar collaborators, he’s made Astroworld a theme park worth revisiting whether you came in as a stan or a skeptic.

This being a Spiritualized record, you should know exactly what to expect. ... The only minor gripe that you could have with the project is that it’s nowhere near as vital as Pierce’s recent collaborative record with Föllakzoid.

Although unfailingly accessible (“Anima” in particular is impossible to shake off once heard), this is a refreshingly strange combination of psych-rock dynamics, pop-savvy hooks, homespun electronica and ancient-sounding melodies.

Whether it is the temporary respite from a challenging sonic environment or the steady progression towards splendour, On Time Out of Time is a rewarding experience for those willing to tolerate challenging moments in a celestial sea of sound. For Basinski, time is an artefact and he is its curator.

Friedman and Weingarten’s friendship remains an ever-constant reference point in their most confessionally open offering yet, the core chemistry between the two leads pulling the disparate and shared pasts together in a unified voice.

Gojira have turned their grief into triumph. It will ensure they don’t remain on the fringes of metal’s elite for much longer.

What’s most striking about Bandwagonesque, though, is how tenderly Gibbard’s treated it; this is undoubtedly the sound of somebody very much in love with the source material.

KicK iiii soundtracks the edges of her universe. So far out from the frenesis of KicK iii and ii, the fourth installment’s driving force is a “bloodlust for beauty” (“Whoresong”).

By dispensing with score and allowing the musicians of Bamako to interpret de Ridder’s violin notations as they saw fit, Africa Express’ In C Mali retains the spirit of minimalism but imbues it with a heart and soul that’s rare in the compositional world.

It’s a record that thrives on trust, experimentation, and the sheer joy of making a glorious, deafening racket together. It also respects its audience enough to be honest, to be fearless, and to deliver something unfiltered and real, bursting with personality. Pigsx7 have never sounded more essential.

What I Don’t Run does do is that it takes the already colourful palette that the group used for Leave Me Alone and expands on every aspect of it, imbuing it with the sort of fizz and crackle that you can’t fake--it’s only ever the product of a thriving live outfit. Hinds are approaching full bloom.

Sometimes something comes along that seems to revel in nonchalant noisemaking; gives in to the din and just is. Effortlessly, thrillingly, brilliantly, Go Easy does that in spades.

Ke$ha too reaches for a savage base pull, lifting from the low-end, high-reward arena rock spectrum, a place of soaring peaks and valleys that still float above heads even at their most subdued, music meant to be blasted from towering stacks of speakers, so the stage appears bookended by the Willis Tower and the John Hancock Center and that finds its artistic beauty in the sheer size and ferocity of its scope and emotional appeal.

Much of the record takes the well-traveled Just Mustard path of slamming guitar pedals together until a mind-melding guitar sound summersaults out the other end. This process may as well be the Ted Lasso Way for shoegaze, but few others can boast the ear for melody and a measured control of the chaos like Lovecraftian, tortured Blondie.

A master-class display in unimaginable skill employed in the service of a greater good: the groove. Add this to a uniformly strong set of tunes and it’s clear that at 74, Allen has created one of his defining statements.

Like all good bands, the front man is only as good as his team. And listening back to Cobblestones EP, the congruency and closeness that has matured between the four-piece on Blue is magnetic.

Household Name re-establishes the pair’s vitality to this extent, avoiding a potential slump in extending the countercultural charge that cemented the appeal of their previous LP's.

Elegant and artful to its core, Where Wildness Grows is an impressive step forward from a band who seemingly have more to prove to themselves than anyone else.

All told, Accompany provides compelling testimonial for the case that Michael Nau is one of the most underrated singer-songwriters currently in circulation: an album you’re guaranteed to want to, er, accompany you for months to come.

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

At times, it verges on saccharine, but these heart-felt, jubilant moments are so unexpected they are actually endearing.

Disjointed it may seem, but the pervading sense of chaos and feel good factor tie each track on Blood // Sugar // Secs // Traffic together perfectly, coming to a frothy, tumultuous head on closing cut "Amazing Supermarkets". Arguably the record’s highlight, it’s almost seven minutes of anarchic garage pop, mirroring in miniature the album it concludes effortlessly.

While it’s unlikely to have the same impact as In Colour, as the next step in the development of an eternally unpredictable artist, it’s a rewarding and frequently electrifying listen.

Life is weird and random, the smallest things sometimes having the biggest impacts, and Life Will See You Now celebrates that in glorious style.

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.

On her debut LP, Lola Kirke offers up an impressive set of songs, putting her own spin on the ‘70s rock and 21st century country for which her family name is famous.

A.Swayze & The Ghosts prove that songs with substantial lyrical content don’t have to be preachy at all, and Paid Salvation is a confident debut from one of the more impassioned and exhilarating bands around.

Life Without Sound is a triumph of Baldi’s vision--for something bigger than just hard and heavy punk, and for rock and roll with pop intelligence. He’s pulled off both here.