It’s at times a brutal listen, but hidden between the hard knocks is the sound of a charismatic young artist who knows he’s making a debut album to remember.

Carly Rae Jepsen’s latest doubles down on one of her central messages as an artist--that no force is more potent than the emotions we feel. And while her third LP E•MO•TION certainly established this, on Dedicated, Jepsen’s infatuation with the rush of human feeling soars to dizzying new heights.

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.

Is it jazz? Electronica? Improvised music? Who cares. Far, far removed from the briefly interesting novelty or vanity project that the prospect of this record might suggest, Holy Spring is an intoxicating gem.

Going from strength to strength, the road that The Best of Luck Club brings will undoubtedly be filled with Lahey's sounds making people move, proof that she is indeed doing it right.

Rich in texture and enveloping atmosphere, Any Random Kindness unfortunately lets its lyrical content fall to the wayside. While this gives more space to let the incredible soundscapes breathe, it also feels like the real emotional punch to back them up is lacking.

Mac’s latest release is unremarkable in almost every way, it is powerfully inoffensive in its delivery, instrumentation and intent which makes it hard to engage with and harder still to enjoy.

While Hecker continues to be a paradigm in formulating how sound exists, he proves with Anoyo what it means to extend his means and throughout its cleansing spirit, Hecker evokes a bewitching status, serving as one of today’s continued and top creators of elysian odysseys.

Young Enough is a pop album that just happens to rock.

Enderness is a record you're guaranteed to want to return to again and again.

Even if dented in places by swings of irony (this is, after all, a band that named their first album Nirvana), there’s an undeniable positivity underlying 10000 that rises above the din.

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

PROTO vacillates between ecstasy and anxiety, collapsing one into the other, and perfectly captures the conflicted feelings many possess as we face the future. A crucial step forward, its approach demonstrates that maintaining human agency alongside radical, new technologies can produce both bewildering and beautiful results that perhaps nobody, not even Herndon, could have predicted.

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

Stylistically it continues the sounds explored on Cranekiss, perfectly fusing moody dreampop with massive pop choruses, although the monochrome of her earlier material still lurks darkly during proceedings, she splatters the pallet with sprightly moments of pop sensibility in a campy pop gothic stew.

Edge of Everything is not for the faint of heart: it’s non-conformist and confrontational. Being industrial techno there’ll be a propensity to dismiss this as the sound of pots and pans falling down a steel staircase, but delve beyond the layers of harshness simply reveals one of the best techno albums of 2019.

Run Fast Sleep Naked is pure escapism, from his grandmother’s living room to a studio in Tokyo, every track unveils a pivotal moment in Murphy’s journey and what could have easily fallen into the trap of being stuffy and overproduced excels in its minimalistic mastery and proves that Nick Murphy’s music is truly out of this world.

Ritter hasn’t just surrounded himself with some of the best musicians in the game for his milestone tenth album, but he’s found a way to reinvent himself while not forgetting where he’s come from. After twenty years, this pillar of Americana folk is as relevant as ever, and sounding better than ever too.

Modulating between grandiosity and relative constraint helps to root the band’s sound in an eerily-wrought hinterland; a template that deters the fabled afflictions of second album syndrome, securing itself as a credible successor to their spry breakout debut.

Despite the subtle shift in tone from beginning to end, this record is consistently imbued with a shifting, evocative sense of place.

There’s are threads of heritage strung through Emerald Valley, not just in the vintage ‘70s/’80s guitar pop pedigree of the riffs and rhythms (“One Flew East,” “Break Me” and “Last Chance County” all from the second half particularly stand out), but also in Tucker’s lyrics and delivery, which are earnest and earthy without curtailing her natural dynamic.

Koenig’s apparent comfort in adulthood, the security and confidence in his newer lyrics--evokes this Facebook-notification angst on a grander scale, a musicalised alienation that prompts stark re-evaluation. It’s unfair to deny even our most beloved artists this progression and growth--they don’t owe us anything – but it’s difficult to be faced with a work that suggests they have grown past the confused state that we still feel rooted to.

On LOVE + FEAR, Marina shoots for stripped-bare big pop, and for the most part, she achieves it, but various clichéd lyrics occasionally stop her sincerity in its tracks.

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

It stays true to the duo’s journey of experimental pop rock sounds, while finding energy in existentialism.

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.

It may make you feel many things but crucially Finn, the most human of story tellers, has created a record and a world within which you will never feel ashamed or alone.

At its best, Life Metal taps into our psyches and rearranges the elements. Sunn O))) have become experts in their harsh and unmerciful take on expanding sound, slowing it to a glacial pace, and finally rearranging it again until it’s unrecognizable.

This ability to traverse a broad gamut of styles and emotions betrays a scope lacking on Before We Forgot How To Dream, with the artist evolving to incongruously couple shimmering charm with a fatalistic sense of reality. The interplay of frayed confessional tenacity with pristine production polish reinforces this ambiguity, a tension that secures this as a confident follow-up to an acclaimed 2015 breakthrough.

Invitation is a classic grower in the sense that, while it does have its weaknesses, repeated listens drawing out these details do overpower them over time.

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

While the sombre tone of these 15 tracks may result in some listeners skipping through in search of something energetic, what lies at the end of this record for those with patience is a truly beautiful collection of stories built through pensive soliloquy as a means of exploring abrasive subjects.

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.

Charming, addictive and seemingly effortless, Cuz I Love You is Lizzo’s declaration of superstardom.

The underlying intensity to their music on previous records is stripped away, leaving in its wake a bland and largely forgettable experience.

Serfs Up! is almost certainly their most accessible, most coherent collection to date.

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.

It’s the songs themselves that should guarantee the album’s global success. Throughout the mini-album are references to BTS’ past and reflections on their growth as artists and individuals.

With sumptuous harmonies and a live band locked in on every track, .Paak finds a sweet spot between throwback soul and the 21st Century dancefloor. He sounds like the best version of himself. ... An exceptional return to form.

A record of considerable dimensions, always well controlled though never in the least predictable.

Although the switch to stark monochrome from the blazing multicolour of the Maraqopa trilogy can seem underwhelming and slight at first, further listens reveal In the Shape of a Storm--boosted by Jurado’s hypnotically committed, intimate performances--to hold together surprisingly well considering the disparate origins of the material.

Dogrel is evocative, meticulous and rich in a love for the character of Dublin, and all the little things that, past and present, contribute to that.

The impulsive outpouring of Noise & Romance is reminiscent of Deerhunter and their side projects back in their prolific Microcastle / Weird Era Cont. days; flooded with good ideas and inclined to put them all to use.

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.

There’s much on this sleek and self-confident debut to suggest that the young band are wholly capable of sculpting their own unique voice amongst all the others.

What A Boost is Rozi’s best, most interesting and experimental album to date. It’s what happens when her introversions gather the worldliness and confidence to let others in. There’s all the same tenderness, all the same familiarity, but it’s never sounded this good before.

Whether you read the title as a refusal to die or a foolish attempt to cling on, it doesn’t matter; both are just as relevant, and Martha have gone some way to capturing as much of it as possible.

Like clear ancestral forefathers Faith, Hex Enduction Hour or The Downward Spiral, this is best enjoyed in small doses and every so often. It’s too good at what it does to be listened to daily. Handle with care and approach with caution.

Show Me The Body make music that isn't easy either; what's so important about them is their ability to drag your gaze in those uncomfortable directions.

If this is what burgeoning motherhood looks like, then it is not a manufactured, diluted, and palatable version of oneself. Rather, it is an extension of an existing strong character, and in Kehlani we celebrate the power of a mother who isn’t afraid to say what she really thinks.

The Seduction Of Kansas is an intelligent and essential record the establishes Priests as masters of their craft, and truly marks them out as one of the most capable punk bands around.

Titanic Rising is a new thing, her own stamp on the world. Like all the best musicians and songwriters before her, she’s plumbed the depths of her imagination and brought forth a masterpiece from the depths.

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.

This debut record still sounds like a band caught between two stools, not sure if they’re still full-on punks anymore or softer, introspective shoegazers.

If Uyai was Ibibio Sound Machine darting breathlessly from one sonic landscape to the next, Doko Mien is the band with a more focused approach and a sharpened sound, one that takes the best elements of their inimitable stylistic cocktail, and stamps it with a striking vibrancy and irresistible funk.

Side Effects is enjoyable, with inspired moments and a consistently danceable feel. It is frequently referential to the band’s previous work, which might make this more of a knockout record for the heads, rather than an entry point for new converts. Sometimes, though, it lacks the drive that reveals itself in the sparkliest songs.

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.

Through this combination of the ethereal and the eccentric, Halo has curated a mix that twists neatly around her musical influences whilst lending an intimate sense of her own direction as a producer and DJ. It is a seamless collection rooted firmly in the contemporary which hints at a musician in complete artistic control.

Whereas the less compelling stretches of its predecessor found Wagner seemingly bewitched by the new gizmos at his disposal, favouring texture and tone over tunecraft, This is more readily recognisable as a collection of Lambchop balladry, albeit one decked out in technological finery.

On The Line may not be her strongest work, no matter how much it aims to be but it proves that Jenny Lewis doesn't need to try too hard to become one of the greats. She's already been one for a while.

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.

Tight melodic fare is coupled with less conventional overtones, interlacing with each other in an alchemical fashion that proves both breezy and combustible; a hypnotic tension that continues to reward on repeated playback.

This natural movement away from jazz has led them to a sort of awkward middle ground. It feels like To Believe is a beautiful soundtrack to a film we don’t have the visuals for. And it’s just not quite enough on its own.

Recorded live without headphones or separate tracks, the sound is intimate and conspiratorial. The perfect polish of a meticulously assembled recording is set aside in favour of a sense of the room and the musicians in it, united in their organic performances.

This album might not save the world or slow down the steady decline of our rainforests, but perhaps it will raise a little awareness, bring a bit of hope, and create a whole lot of smiles for all of those that hear it.

For Yanya, this is a masterful debut that, like a tasting menu, looks jarring on paper but, in practice, is tantalising, surprising and undoubtedly impressive.

The powerful fusion of the electronic and the classical crucially allows the brothers to lightly grasp the hands of their listener, and guide them through dreamscapes of cosmic beauty, searing light and haunting darkness.

It’s Real displays the same exuberance and professionalism--not to be taken as a dirty word here, but as testament to the band’s seemingly effortless knack for arrangement and execution--as its predecessor but adds a handful of different moods and textures.

Standouts like “The Sun Also Rises,” “Car into the Sea” and the title track are also just as groovy as anything from that era, but never does the album sound stuck in it. The Modern Age is a very welcome return.

Its grief is visceral, and most disconcerting of all, most listeners will find themselves identifying with some ogre held within these tracks. Listening hangs you upside-down, bat-like, to cling to the darkness with them, which is in turns deeply uncomfortable and oddly cathartic. A brilliant and awful trip.

There’s a sensitive soul underneath Birthday’s hyperactive bounce, and it tends to come out clearest when Pom Poko find a sweet spot and stay there for a minute.

Trust is every bit as impressive as The Comet Is Coming's debut. Which is pretty high praise indeed.

Like other Matmos albums, it relies too heavily on the concept behind the album for merit. Plastic Anniversary is an impressive experiment with intriguing results; it's not, however, an album you'll likely find yourself revisiting time and time again.

It’s a heady, dazzling blend of pop, punk, dance, funk and electronica, moulded into a swirl of kaleidoscopic energy.

Groove Denied is lesser than Sparkle Hard, and greater. Not so happy, yet much happier.

Lux feels refreshing in the freedom and desire to explore new territory, resulting in a win for both.

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.

Brief moments give breathing space in a record that’s suffocatingly intense. PSYCHODRAMA isn’t an album to stand up and rejoice to. It’s a sit-down-and-consume, a listen-and-learn. In doing that, you appreciate the blood, sweat and tears that have gone into the prose. It’s an overwhelmingly powerful 51 minutes of music unlike anything released this year.

Wonderfully fearless from start to finish, Donnelly speaks up for those who either won’t or can’t.

Foals' new direction is as exciting as it is flawed, and although it isn’t executed to perfection there is serious potential here.

Whether in Harare, Rotterdam or Peckham, Mushonga feels those most-human of emotions: heartache, isolation, pressure to conform, but refuses to be shackled by them. Instead, we are invited on her geographical and psychological journey, and encouraged to embrace the turbulence.

Snapped Ankles make music to soundtrack the apocalypse, and you can’t help simply sitting and enjoying the ride.

Sundara Karma have grown both personally and musically with this album and they have delivered a follow-up that is confident and utterly fearless. With more direction than their previous entry, Oscar Pollock’s weird and wonderful mind becomes the main spectacle and something to truly admire.

There Will Be No Intermission is a work of art. It’s as political a record as it is personal.

[This record] showcases a band capable of innovating, pushing themselves and experimenting eight albums deep to come up with an album more than worthy of praise.

Although SASAMI is a debut album, it feels more like the work of an artist whose craft is already honed--and that's because it is. You can hear the decades of refinement in Ashworth's songcraft, which makes for an absorbing collection of confessional songs both incredibly personal and widely relatable, on an incredibly self-assured debut.

Aside from being a near-perfect collection of belting pop, Sucker Punch also carries a message of triumphant grace: if you can try to be your own best friend and love yourself a little more, wonderful things will happen.

In its finest moments, it demonstrates the potency of experimental club music--dynamic, disorderly and charged with emotion. Sadly, a chunk of tracks amount to more of an endurance test, one which some listeners will simply nope out of.

Big Bad feels like the perfect distillation of the raw energy and menace that Giggs has brought to UK music, only this time it's been taken to a whole new level.

Her love of hip hop is imbued in the very core of Compliments Please, shirking much of the folkish arrangements of Slow Club for a sound far bolder, and at 16 tracks strong it is clear that Taylor is not short of ideas.

We have 13 tracks to wander through and empathise with. Amber Bain has created a record of complete honesty, offering us a first-hand account of the highs and lows she has experienced whilst traversing modern relationships.

It’s a challenge and a pleasure; a banger and a crooner; a lover and a leaver, and easily the best album of TEEN’s career.

["Heels" is] a track capturing the whirling chaos of a turbulent time, and the intensely liberating experience of charging through to its end--battered but unbeaten. This turbulence rocks the rest of the album as well, but it’s now a bumpiness that Sir Babygirl rides like a pro.

It's brave but vulnerable, energetic but reflective and youthful but wise. If you listen to any Little Simz track, you'll know instantly she's a great MC, but with this project she has stepped beyond that to become a uniquely gifted artist. An incredible album.

placeholder is the sound of Hand Habits hitting their stride, and playing to their strengths before anyone listening even realised what those strengths were. The guitar heroics of Duffy’s time in Morby’s band have yielded to an inspired flair for arrangements, piercing turns of phrase and the sound of an artist—and a person—truly finding themselves.

Effluxion doesn’t ask questions, or make you want to ask questions, or answer any that you might have had. The only question you can ask of Effluxion is what the title means.

Even though many breakup references are scattered throughout Crushing, a strong sense of emotional progression is also woven in, flipping the narrative to be more positive in parts. Vivid lyricism personifies the album title in each track.

It's a credit to the band's (newly streamlined to a trio) increasing ability to tie together the different strands and themes that have cropped up during their previous work that it all builds up into a cohesive, hugely arresting whole.