The instrumentation on My Back is gentle, self-conscious, and loose in structure while that on her earlier works is poised and intricate. This rawness doesn’t make it any less powerful; it intensifies the despondency haze that hangs in the air of each song like a yet-to-rain nimbus.

While the first third of the LP shows a band more focused than ever, the lack of playfulness proves a detriment going into the middle chunk of Everything Harmony. ... The third to last track, “Ghost Run Free”, offers hope for fans.

No matter who it is, we know who Sampha is: a generational talent who has once again delivered a rich, emotional work for us to process. Lahai is phenomenal.

Wilderness is scholarly but not overly-calculated, ornate but not lavish. In a career that has been nothing short of innovative, this arguably marks a creative peak.

What held together the sounds from her previous records for me were the classical segments, the overarching concepts, the storytelling and the interludes between songs (admittedly these aren’t enormously popular or easily translatable to a live show), which are completely removed here. Given the switch in tone, it feels like Monae is more comfortable in her skin and her sound, but is this a good thing for the music?

Despite occasional lyrical obtuseness, it’s a joy to hear Callahan back over thick, syrupy instrumentation, and there’s an abundance of riches here.

And while some songs on this album get drowned out by the grandiosity of its goals, the project – and the man behind it – are as strong as ever. GNX is the blueprint for a new rap zeitgeist, and all we can do is hope that everyone gets the cue.

Thanks to the fact that Car Seat Headrest is now a band rather than a solo recording project, there’s more spit and polish to the songs, a level of gloss that Twin Fantasy really benefits from.

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.

With Time Indefinite, William Tyler offers a fresh and uniquely compelling way to affirm that it’s OK not to be OK: these are humbly majestic anthems for our anxious age.

A rich texture of sounds and concepts, masterfully weaved together by an artist at the top of their game. By rights, it will become essential modern listening - a thought-provoking and utterly compelling collection of tracks, delivered with understated yet captivating style.

As with David Bowie’s entire career, he’s once again given us enough to keep us wanting more, while reminding us of all the inspired gifts that came before.

This latest collection pairs Isbell’s keen ear for catchy melodies with fuller, bouncier arrangements and more optimistic subject matter. The result is a record spattered with songs capable of bridging the gap between “alt” and accessible.

It triumphs not as a continuation of a musical conversation that Isn’t Anything and Loveless began, but by forging its own distinct modern dialogue, one that at once sounds rooted in its own imaginative time and place, perhaps even dimension, with any telling outside influences dissipating as soon as the songs truly take their pleasurable hold.

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

A deeply personal, Earth-moving masterpiece exploring relationship tensions with the gravitas of an apocalypse and the simplicity of a melody passed down through generations.

It's the beginning of the 2018 and talk of albums of the year right now is obviously churlish, but on Microshift we're hearing a band hitting their sweet spot with such an effortless swagger that we're sure this is a contender.

If the odd long term listener might suggest Nothing's About To Happen To Me is a touch risk averse, the majority of Mitski fans will be more than satisfied with another serving of seriously good stuff.

For it's forty minute duration, Meat Wave's second record is one of the most engaging you're likely to find this year.

Blending the brash with the heartfelt is something The Smith Street Band have always succeeded in doing. Here they take that to the next level, deftly executing a record that’s as bombastic as we’ve come to expect from the band, and isn’t afraid to wear its heart on its sleeve.

[Terminal matches] the sweaty intensity and unstoppable forward-momentum of Circle's inimitable live shows. The material is extremely potent, too.

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

Dancefloor-friendly pop music, but of a variety that remains intoxicatingly unmoored to the conventions and codes of the earthly realm.

Unrestricted to any interpretation, the record leaves enormous space for thought experiments and imagination (the closer “Out of Time” suggests just as much). Step back a few paces to look at it in full, and you’ll find something that celebrates freedom of opinion and individualism.

Blonde is a work of art that will stick with us all for way longer than four short years.

The Thin Black Duke isn’t their finest album--for my money, that’d have to be 1995’s Steve Albini-produced Let Me Be A Woman--but it’s still one of the most thrilling, galvanising records I’ve heard in recent months.

The result of his efforts is a celebration of the strength of his character and like his personal journey, Southeastern is story full of meaning and it commands the listener’s full attention.

Cocoon Crush is a portrait of an artist in transition. It’s rough around the edges, occasionally stunning, and always surprising.

Just as Dawson clearly relishes being able to record with Circle, so too does the album feel like a treat imparted to the listener in the lead up to Christmas. There’s so much to unpack here. It’s a sprawling work, the shortest song being six minutes, the longest being over twelve. Lyrically, Dawson is on fine form.

Witch Fever end on their angriest, highest energy moment and it’s a triumphant, resounding closer to a knockout debut record, and the final echoes ring out like a promise.

Ultimately, Fragments highlights the solidly sound judgement that Dylan and producer Daniel Lanois applied when assembling Time Out of Mind: despite the merits of many of these alternative versions, you’re unlikely to want to argue with selections for the majestically atmospheric original album.

It comes across as a record not made with a grand statement or goal, but rather a meticulous creation from a collective with nothing to hide or show off. Just raw talent and a willingness not to be too precious with their creations.

Reward shows Le Bon harnessing a reinterpretation all her own--stretching her range with layers of idiosyncrasies while remaining at the helm as one of today’s most sui generis anomalies.

Every single edition of this release is great value for money, and long-term and new fans alike will find hours of listening pleasure to be had no matter their budget.

for you who are the wronged is a beautiful, at times overwhelming, journey through a cruel world that robs and violates us all of something. It doesn’t passively sit by and let the worst happen though – it comes bearing offers of strength, hope, and companionship to those in need.

Each time I play even a moment of this record back, my ears ring and hum and vibrate my head as if they’re rejecting another listen to its mad, sad glory.

It’s hard-hitting, but behind every tightly honed riff lies a bubbling sense of optimism, and these songs are as resonant as they come.

Shaw’s untreated voice speaks directly into your ear, and Tom Dowse’s layered guitars are bright and upfront, doing so much melodic and textural work that they seem to wrap around and fill the space in every song.

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.

Hadreas finally appears to have found a sound palette as provocative, forward-thinking and confrontational as his vehement, brave lyrical style.

As a complete body of work, it’s eclectic and begins how it ends: inconclusively. But as an entry into Armand Hammer’s growing canon of mastery, Test Strips is their headiest and most impressive work thus far.

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

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

Magnificently composed, Weyes Blood reaches out to cast your loneliness away. Feeling like a timeless classic, this record is one that you can revisit whenever you want to hear the comforting sounds of another soul trying to figure it all out.

In true Simz fashion, conscious reflections unfold over the producer’s sprawling arrangements. NO THANK YOU makes certain that every gap is filled tastefully: bellowed vocal ad-libs and melodies (“X”); tasteful guitar tinkles (“Who Even Cares”); or sampled vocal interjections (“Heart On Fire” or “Sideways”).

Purple Mountains is a project born of perspective and circumspection, not self-indulgence or score-settling. It may not be the 2019’s easiest listen, but it’s certainly its most honest, and one of the year’s most rewarding.

There’s simply not a wasted second on the record; all fourteen songs are simple and direct, immediately recorded in inglorious mono with nothing--save the cheap Casio autochord presets on ‘Blues in Dallas’--but voice, guitar and the album’s secret third instrument--the insistent hum of an increasingly-broken boombox.... The main draw of this reissue for hardened Mountain Goats fans, an obsessive breed at the best of times, are Darnielle’s new liner notes and a selection of seven bonus tracks from the same era.

Equal amounts tender and wild, Mitski places power in vulnerability. Validating every topsy turvy emotion, Puberty 2 is a soundtrack of self-awareness and self-acceptance at its most real.

The anguished sentiments of the songs resonate whether you understand Spanish or not, with the celestial tones of the tracks serving as an illuminating pathway to either heaven or hell.

Vulnicura is humanity at its most volatilely sublime.

CSNY 1974 does an unerring job at capturing a must-capture moment in music history, it’s just the moment acquits itself as more a valiant effort than a resounding success.

An album that delivers on all fronts, from the ratatat of drill or the swinging hip-hop beats, EDNA explores as much as it uncovers more sides to its voice. Throughout, the littered guest posts each represent a facet of Headie’s journey perfectly.

Whether the music on Jack in the Box suits your taste or not, it’s hard to dismiss this album as an artistic statement rather than just chapter 1/7 of BTS proving they can also make money in ways beyond official group releases.

Her striking lyrical flow has become more relentless but comes off more like a constant drip of honey than an imposing assault, at least sonically. On the other hand, the subject matter of the lyrics is rife with Socratic lines of moral questioning and political comedy. Every track excels in a topical focus that will not be spoiled or summarized by the deadline-watching eyes of a critic.

From start to finish, CTRL os nothing less than outstanding - the late arrival of a very important artist.

A messy, extravagant, astonishing, beguiling and honest experience: that’s love, and that’s also what I Love You, Honeybear is. Just magnificent.

The layers of noise, which at first may seem intimidating, are so harmonically rich they immerse the listener as the sounds interact creating new and unexpectedly mellifluous sounds.

There's an outlaw spirit to this record: when shit happens you just gotta get back on the saddle.

It’s the kind of record to laugh, rage, and cry to, very much delivering on its early promise of “All rip'rs / No more skip'rs.” Each moment, whether of effusive joy or of tender intimacy, is anchored in well-honed pop hooks, standout engineering prowess, and larger-than-life personality.

Less antagonistic than Gore and wandering down considerably fewer stylistic avenues than Koi No Yokan, Ohms plays instead like a spiritual successor to Diamond Eyes. Like that record, the production is polished enough to see your face in, and like that record, there’s a sense that the arrangements are being granted plenty of room to breathe.

It’s the careful balance of lyrical self-awareness and indifference amidst post-punk guitar that keeps you on your toes.

Despite the level of fastidiousness that’s standard to Daft Punk, Random Access Memories still sounds loose. The album doesn’t feel synthetic or disingenuous, as it perhaps should. So perhaps these two are cooler than anyone you know.

The moments when the singers get braver with stamping their own personality on the material prove much more memorable.

Yhe album is as allusive as the rest of Del Rey’s discography; Robert Frost, Sylvia Plath, Slim Aarons and Stephen King are just a few of the notable individuals both subtly and explicitly referenced by the singer.

This is one of those rare records that starts off strong and keeps getting better, more deep and resonant, with each track.

The album is undoubtedly going to end up on many writers’ end-of-year lists, and it’s only February. Remy and her co-conspirators have truly set the bar for great records in 2018, by drawing from the best elements of nocturnal power from bygone eras. It’s all here--just wait and see.

Whilst Bowler Hat Soup does come across as a little mashed-up at times, that’s its charm.

The Cleansing’s bounteous treasure trove delivers his most ambitious and potentially most rewarding collection of songs.

Like Francis Bacon, Young Fathers borrow inspiration to create gloriously realised works of unique art, which arouse debate, revulsion and awe in varying measures.

Fabiana Palladino is a near-effortless reinvention of retro pop, soul, funk, and R&B tracks with a glossy modern sheen, setting the stage for more grandiose statements in the future.

This isn’t dewy eyed nostalgia all weighed down with rose tinted reverence, though: he makes a respectful nod to the past by rifling through jungle and garage and so on, but each track feels like a poignant and yet propulsive reflection of Jamie’s personality and experiences.

On You Won't Go Before You're Supposed To, Knocked Loose expand in all directions while staying true to their core.

Though it is by no means a flawless album, it is exactly the kind of thing you should be using to set your mind at ease. Fleet Foxes have always been inherently hopeful and thankfully they’ve not lost sight of that, roll on 2021.

In the end, what we have is a magnificent record, that looks likely to be sunk by the events surrounding it. Whether that happens remains to be seen, but what remains is a harsh disconnect, between the absolute joy of the record, and the crushing disappointment that surrounds it.

On the whole, Freedom represents a watershed moment for Damon McMahon.

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

A clear cut statement on what it feels like to be alive in these troubling times from an artist who is carefully cementing himself as one of the most compelling and earnest young talents.

V isn’t a huge reinvention, more a subtle reboot, and a move which has worked out perfectly. The Horrors are hardly new to making brilliant albums--they did that with their previous three--but V is better than them all.

The album in question is worth the wait though, a collection of polished alt-pop tracks with the band's consistently sparkling production, this time helmed by JT Daly with considerable input from vocalist Lynn Gunn.

Segarra reaches, with stunning empathy, into the lives of people struggling with specific or universal hardships throughout and yet, crucially, these songs would be killer without the stories at the heart of them.

They sometimes leave an uncatered desire for more lyrical depth. In several cases, however, the electrifying music makes up for what’s unfulfilled.

He’s still capable of moments of absolute beauty.

Death of a Cheerleader takes a step back to roam over the whole of a young person’s identity, but the songs still pack a heavy punch. ... But in running the full gamut of young identity, there is pure, unfettered joy to be found even in the depths of rage.

Colfax, then, resembles best of Richmond Fontaine’s work: unassuming, deceptively simple songs that gradually gain the resonance of a great short story that happens to be accompanied by great music.

Never a note wasted, nothing done without a reason, they were, and will always be Bedhead as good a guitar band as you’ll ever hear.

Sure, these songs are dense, but they are dense, triumphant pop songs. They will make you want to get on up and turn it loose.

In addition to the improved songwriting, the production has been upgraded. Returning as producer and engineer, Arthur Rizk wisely dials back the reverb from Decimation, resulting in a clearer record that allows breakneck riff-fests.

Each element of Fatigue has its importance, distinguishing itself also by the prowess of some great and varied highlights.

On this form she’s Bianca on horseback, a new Moroder drop in ’77, bootlegged Larry Levan DJ sets on cassette, the nocturnal delights of the Studio 54 VIP room, casually leaving her contemporaries trying to negotiate guestlist entry at the nightclub entrance

“It’s Okay To Cry,” “Ponyboy,” and “Faceshopping,” open the album in that order balancing SOPHIE’s pop instincts with her weirder ones. “Faceshopping” is a highlight, both visceral and compulsively listenable, using Photoshop as a metaphor for becoming more comfortable with her body.

Its highs are higher, its lows are non-existent, and it has the government mandated Obongjayar feature, or it wouldn’t be a Simz project.

There is a poetry to the mundanity that serves as Dawson’s subject matter, which he draws out in its best moments. At others, however, his writing gets mired in merely setting down dutifully that which lies before us.

Much like Hunter, Remind Me Tomorrow is brutal, but it’s honest and open and true about how grim life is sometimes. By not pulling her punches, Van Etten has seemingly done the impossible--reinvented herself by doubling down on her own artistic tendencies.

Imagine This is a High Dimensional Space of All Possibilities is one of those rare records that is very long but doesn’t seem to have an idle moment. The album becomes deeper and more rewarding with each consecutive track.

It’s contradictory, assured yet tender. It’s delicate but strong. It’s sweet pop music wrapped in an unbreakable metal shell. It’s beautiful but vulgar. It is, frankly, much more than we could have ever hoped for from her.

The most wonderful, positive ending, a paean to the power of song and the song that closes this modern classic of an album.

Are We There will make sure to conjure it up and hold you rapt as you trundle through it together.

Tension’s a knockout, and Kylie is this world’s gem.