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.

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.

There’s a rough finesse to each track, one which is clearly purposeful – the production and instrumentation is strident yet incisive. It feels churlish to critique such a lively, soul-cleansing burst of energy, especially since the album is filled with hints of killer choruses trapped just beneath the surface and itching to break through.

Sad Cities has proved that it can hold its own, and even allows the long-time follower to dwell in times past.

Rose is at her most confident and relaxed, navigating country-and-pop-inflected hooks while addressing a range of perennial themes, including love, uncertainty, and the need for self-care in a world gone mad.

It doesn’t give away much more of the bigger picture, and it’s not quite clear yet how it will interact with it, but daine builds new dimensions with every move.

The stories she unveils here can get dull and repetitive – as they are designed to be relatable to as wide an audience as possible – but the way she tells them is, more often than not, captivating enough to sit through the 3-minute runtime.

Why does “High Fashion”’s bassline sound so intoxicating and disjointed? Why does “Headphones On” possess trip-hop stems that are strangely symbolic of the destructive gallows? These interludes, if executed better, might’ve fulfilled and encouraged the listeners’ curiosity such as mine over Rae’s intriguing soundscapes.

Snooper’s vision of egg punk is more hygienic; the full experience is still reserved for the stage. They’ve fantastically magnified a glimpse of that for larger crowds, but in the studio, Snooper aren’t as wild as we thought they were.

Nothing Was the Same is different because Drake has stopped worrying so much about who he’s become and figured out who he is.

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.

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.

Closer to Grey is the coldest, shiniest, most polished collection of songs released under the Chromatics banner. It’s chillier, darker and more sinister than anything else they’ve ever put out.

Changes in timbre aside, those expecting a progression or departure in sound from the last two Mac releases will find them subtle, if present at all. But frankly, as with its sensitive and charismatic creator, it’s hard not to like This Old Dog from the start.

This is an album of sometimes brutal beauty; a risk taken and richly rewarded through a work suggestive of fragility, yet simultaneously attesting to defiance rather than any maudlin self-pity.

Prisoner is an album filled with Adams reconciling his doubts and fears about life and love with his faith in music and the power of song. And ultimately--thankfully--music wins out over heartbreak in the end.

The core components of their sound have remained intact, and it's only the delivery--which has naturally slowed down in pace--that has changed.

First Two Pages of Frankenstein is yet another dose to remind you why – and how – the band have managed to carve their own special place out in the cultural landscape.

With her fourth studio record, Lola Young has created a tapestry of conflicting narratives delicately intertwined.

Nothing about Deep States feels authentically trippy, authentically dark or authentically weird. Near-on every element feels both forced and misguided, be it the performances, songwriting or the production. If in desperate need, just relisten to that Squid album instead.

Algiers don’t feel ahead of the curve, they feel like they are racing on a different track. When combined with their expansive range of collaborators, that willingness to go their own way makes for a powerful new addition to their catalogue with Shook.

It’s the product of a band that’s clearly thinking on their feet, engaging with the conflicting styles of those around them and assimilating new behaviors without sacrificing their own, changing with the world around them to create something refreshingly distinct and beautifully engaging.

Less thematic or cohesive than other records, Smote Reverser is, quite deliberately, a record that sounds like an endless stream-of-consciousness, with no underlying nucleus that pulls it all together. Any of these tracks, each so distinct from the others, could potentially hold the charm of the record.

There’s no sense of resolution by the end of the record. Its characters could be equally pitiful as they are decent. Still, Andy Shauf’s talent for playing god to these little dioramas is as consistent as ever.

Throughout, the unifying characteristic is the richness and warmth of the sound, a million miles from the lo-fi of old; this is the prettiest Owen record to date, and there’s no shortage of strong contenders for that particular title.

Kinder Versions is one of those precious pieces of art that is brand new but feels like it was always here, dragged from the beginnings of the world and rooted in elemental truth.

Unfortunately, for an album that’s main theme is duplicity, it can’t help but feel a little one-dimensional (lyrically at least). ... However, Wasner’s sculpting of emotive music through sound and texture rather than key is special, and Head of Roses is by far her most successful rendering of it.

Everything Everything have their cake and they’re eating it too--Arc proves that they can keep their zany shade of indie and still be taken very seriously.

Going the high fidelity route was definitely a risk this far into Woods’ existence, but the band never fully embraced the lo-fi label, and City Sun Eater proves that everything about them sounds just as strong with or without the fuzz.

For the first time--a stunned silence at the intensity and pace of these cascading arpeggios (19.5 notes per hand each second, apparently, and the world record), these rhythms within rhythms that envelop and sustain. Boy, do they sustain.

Aside from the constant stream of new sounds and instruments ("Revolution" may be the first song to utilise a steel drum for its big drop), the other joy of the record is its themes of self-affirmation and courage.

[A] beguiling, all-too-brief album.

Boisterous closer “Love Don’t” leaves no doubt that the Night Sweats are revelling in being a unit once again, after having spent the past few years apart, and they’re all the better for it. Their bluesy soul is being delivered with newfound heart, spirit and zeal, one that makes The Future jubilantly bright.

There are only a handful of pop albums that can sustain epic run times through the power of really, really good songs alone (Car Seat Headrest’s Teens Of Denial is one of them). There’s a story for those who want it and some delightful songcraft for those who don’t. Not a bad compromise.

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.

This universal notion of affecting societal change, whatever your age, is the lifeblood of Book Of Curses and it’s deeply refreshing to hear an older generation of punks who are as committed as the current one to creating a better world for all of us, even if it’s only in a small way.

A return in form for a beautiful promise of future.

This is perhaps the most hypnotic GOAT has ever sounded, once again reinventing themselves, delivering an album that’s not as musically challenging, for willing ears, but it is immensely rewarding, a perfect soundtrack for losing yourself in the wilderness of sound.

While it manifests in a way that’s less playful than on her debut, it’s replaced by a gravitas that befits a sophomore record.

An album clearly made by a mercurial talent, but who still sounds at his best quietly knocking out unassuming dancefloor gold.

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.

Don’t get me wrong, Endless Summer Vacation is a good album with each track deserving of a listen, but in the same breath, the majority of them aren’t worthy of a replay either.

Even while Spiral never quite touches on the grandeur of its predecessor, Jaar and Harrington here appear content as ever laboring over their unique vision.

Drill Music in Zion is strong but weighed down by its heavy message and repetitive structure, ultimately highlighted by lengthy runtimes.

Vu didn’t invent tragi-pop (she wouldn’t deny her numerous progenitors, from Cat Power to Julien Baker); however, her airy melodicism and meme-friendly lyrics, coupled with her technically grounded yet mercurial voice, make for a signature presence.

Alternate/Endings is never a relaxing listen; when the breakneck pace drops, it’s only replaced by an unsettling calm, and one that doesn’t last very long.

Some might consider it messy, and the old adage is, life is messy; well, the latter is true, which lends it its exhilarating beauty.

Let It All In is another strong album in I Am Kloot’s canon, and one which should hopefully see their status as songwriting legends confirmed.

UZU is an ambitious piece of work to say the least, and whilst some of the metallic textures and tones may seem somewhat unfashionable these days, the purpose behind this record couldn’t be more forward-thinking and determined.

Tied To The Moon is a beautiful record, so full of intricacies that it continues to reward with every listen, allowing you to lose yourself in its stories.

Colder has no intention of redefining or reshaping the electronic music world with Many Colours. Instead, Tan seems more interested in seamlessly adding his saturnine musical textures to the growing sonic palette of the modern club scene, while also reminding us all just how on point and of the moment his sound continues to be.

Super Monster’s songs are each a self-contained story, but it’s unclear whether each song relates to a different person in Claud’s life or if they all revolve around the same person. Regardless, the unique identity in each one of the 13 tracks is what makes it such a terrific and arresting listen. Claud’s dreamlike quality of writing makes breakups sound nostalgic, unrequited love enchanting, and rejection a worthwhile pursuit.

Emerging out of a fractious period, Buckingham is at his unapologetically unfiltered best on an album that teeters between yearning reflection and fast-paced kinetics, ranking as one of the tightest records released in his own right

The album is - as expected - a well-crafted, sonically flawless work. What it lacks in heart (as with all of their albums, there's very little humanity in the sound or the lyrics) it more than makes up for in style and finesse, and it continues the band's run of producing quality records.

Theatrical, impassioned, and occasionally heartbreaking, Beat The Champ distills the very essence of classic Mountain Goats into another compelling album.

In its brief seven tracks, Rausch barely makes it over an hour mark, but in that time frame, Voigt gives his listener a lot to unpack and offers the idea that he still has a lot more 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.

Crash is nothing short of a victory lap. Every bit as effervescent as its pandemic-induced predecessor, how i’m feeling now. ... This is connected and organic; a celebration of hope, love and spontaneity as both her catalogue and the world at large inch closer to some semblance of their old ways.

Despite all of the quixotic ups and downs in the tunes the album never loses its sense of purpose or momentum.

The unreleased cuts provide many of the highlights. Two takes on obscure vintage rhythm & blues cuts hit a raw energy that the more heavily polished arrangements lack.

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.

It’s a record as much about falling apart as it is putting yourself back together and undoubtedly one of the debuts of the year so far.

It may not astound, but like a visit from an understanding friend, it’s nice to have to lean on.

For a debut, the album has a spacious sound, and that can also be accounted for by Milosh and Hannibal’s music history which predates Rhye by nearly a decade.

This album has it all, and listeners who crave forward-thinking, statement-making pop will find homes with “Gay Agenda”, “Cisgender”, and “Abomination”, while those less involved can relax with the jams of “Cold Brew", “Nuclear”, and “Stability”.

Overall, Days Are Gone showcases the band’s individual strengths that have been pulled together to create a collective group with intensity and depth of potential.

These more polished but less straight-forward songs makes for their least instantly gratifying collection, but leaves a strong feeling that in the long-term it might become the most rewarding yet.

Overall, Paradise is another thrilling entry into White Lung’s catalogue that proves the band still has plenty of exciting new ground to crush beneath their heel.

Vol. 2 probably won't win PC Music many new fans or converts, but it'll satiate die hards and offer those who listen closely just enough deviation from a successful formula.

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.

Three Mile Ditch is raw and absorbing, and it deserves our full attention.

Radiate Like This is a characteristically joined-up effort from the close-knit group, underscoring the strength of their musical bond – its only hindrance being the occasional pang of déjà vu.

Flood is a superb album, by an artist who hasn’t even given us a glimpse of her potential. It’s charming and enjoyable and engaging and attractive and all of the adjectives you could ever want out of an indie-pop record - and not only does it hold up to multiple listens, it actually seems to expand and grow in stature with each run-through.

Cyclamen is immaculately crafted and the arrangements themselves would be worthy of praise regardless of whose name was attached to them, but it’s Graham’s razor-sharp lyricism and vivid vocal delivery that gives the music real heart and therefore makes the LP worthy of listeners time.

Joy'All ends up being a bit of everything and never establishing a clear enough character. The injection of joy is refreshing yet contrived, and all the simultaneous changes seem too big of an undertaking for her collaborators, who are not able to cultivate her sound.

Each track comes with a reminder of how trauma makes monsters of us all, but in the centre of it all Danilova’s strong, clear voice is the will to keep going.

Although it’s not as vital as his early work, it’s a fun and confident return from one of the kings of grime. Long may he reign.

It's an instrumental record, as probably is to be expected, and those looking for the kind of emotional depth (beyond primal urges and base fear) or commentary might be a bit disappointed. Nonetheless, that minor point will probably be a non-issue, totally overshadowed the devastation in play.

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.

Oh Death is another chapter in the book, another highway, another impressive set of songs. If only all bands were this consistent.

And I Have Been glides like a meticulous record full of cryptic, meaningful occurrences. Even if it’s unadorned, it still clicks.

Though acoustic tonality may appear muddy, the confident voice of Supermodels reigns loud and clear.

Unforgettable, powerful, and easygoing all at once, Ragu’s maximalist debut is a special mark on the landscape from a new pop disruptor.

Sola concludes Peacemaker much as she launches it, striking a sublime balance between pop know-how and theatrical flair.

All in all, BITE ME is a lot of fun, like watching the drama unfold when you’re comfortably not involved. Reneé Rapp has solidified her place in today’s pop scene, and here’s hoping with a third record she’ll rock the boat.

Death Jokes is a complex chasm of fractured, intertwining ideas, songs that grasp for purpose, songs with drops of sorts.

Perhaps that great crossover will now never happen, but they’ve made a refreshing, bold record here, that, a few trips aside, leaps the barriers of genre with ease and satisfies throughout.

Sukierae’s the kind of a record where almost every listen provides different favourite moments. That has to be a very good indicator of its overall merits.

At times the songs could do with a bit of pruning, the elongated blues of the closing “Liquid Lady” overstays its welcome somewhat, but Until the Hunter is an immersive and rewarding record that will keep admirers of their other bands happy and shows that side projects can be more than rock star folly.

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.

The truth is, it is both cultured Tibetan Singing Bowls and DIY damp finger on wine glass and all the richer for it.

This is a fine record and if it doesn’t match up to the high standards alluded to above, that’s because Field Music really only sound like Field Music.

The distant rumble of the crashing sea and the odd squelch of moog provide a thrilling climax to a superb album.

Richly nuanced and always intelligent, fifteen years have passed since the last album, and much like Bazan prior to the record’s conception, its release feels like a homecoming.

Ma, to an extent, substitutes freeform elements with a more bankable linear path, orienting between breezy accessibility and flashes of lateral sprawl; a pattern that serves to engage adequate interest. Honeyed highlights compensate for less tight moments, paralleled with a ponderous, but temperate pace; translating into an elegant offering from Banhart, despite gratifying a teasing fondness for excess.

Nepenthe is a very special album, one which doesn’t sound like anything else around but which also sounds like music you have unwittingly known your whole life; the quiet hum of life itself, re-appropriated and expertly sculpted into a shape where all of it’s complexity and simplicity feels a just that little bit sweeter.

Age Of Anxiety sees Hannah Rodgers set a course for her career with a stunningly assured debut brimming with ideas and practically flawless in execution.

At just 30 minutes long, it never outstays its welcome and, often times, you’ll find yourself hitting ‘repeat’ just to get another hit.