Chance is still just 23 years old, but Coloring Book is a staggeringly mature record, and while it isn’t on par with Acid Rap in terms of unforgettable lyricism, it also has a different mission.

Since the very beginning of his debut, From Here We Go Sublime, Willner has remained a top-tier stalwart and in one grand, sweeping gesture secures the reality of being one of the very few who continually sound like no one else while expertly giving little in return.

Beyond Belief is somewhat less guitar-centric than Along the Way, but otherwise it is more in most every other way.

hile Stuffed & Ready shares the glossy sheen (thanks to Carlos de la Garza, who returns for a second go-round as producer) and excellent songwriting of its predecessor, 2017’s Apocalipstick, the former is darker and more insular both musically and lyrically.

An album as intimate as it is cinematic. Rose-tinted melodies wrap around delicate harmonies and show off Jónsdóttir’s disarming vocals as she chronicles her experiences of falling in and out of love in the digital age, and 12 tracks feel not quite long enough to experience the ethereal beauty of Laufey’s sonic universe.

This is purposefully difficult music with very little in the way of hand-holding via melody or catchy riffs. Yet, in the end the potential reward is revealed: if you’re willing to brave the torment (of PoG’s music or of life, or both), perhaps you’ll achieve something like catharsis and be better for it on the other side.

The tone and the simplicity and the subtle melancholy of these eighteen miniature pieces make EUSA the most charming Tiersen release in some time.

Crunchy, ethereal, and odd in its harsh beauty, PAINLESS is a record of contradictions that Yanya spectacularly weaves together. Allowing us to see more of Nilüfer Yanya – as a person, as a musician, as a lyricist – each part is as intriguing and rewarding to dive into as the last.

Quirky yet profound, playful but often deeply moving, Light Verse is a record to savour in one sitting, its ten tracks comprising a seriously impressive whole that’s considerably more potent than the sum of its unfailingly impressive individual parts.

A much more cohesive album than ...Like Clockwork, one that seems hell-bent on turning out an incendiary dance-rock record rather than constantly shifting stylistic shape in the way that last LP did.

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.

Rather than let heartbreak render the band static and immobile, Superchunk has thankfully turned to their faithful creative outlet of music once again, and the memories and spirit of their lost friends will resolutely live on in the stirring songs they have written to honour them.

Mura Masa isn’t perfect, with his production sometimes losing its identity to his guest stars, but it’s a solid and most importantly fun debut for a real rising star.

This is Bey’s talent as an instrumental storyteller; genres are sequenced and held for their parts, yet respected like caged animals. Organs are the sound of the beginning, pianos of a demise; a dance groove is the motion of the middle, and forthright attitudes are evergreen.

Despite its many strengths, the rest of the album can’t help but feel like a gradual comedown from such a monumental start, but the sincerity and warmth of Glenn-Copeland’s deceptively simple songs is never in doubt.

Thrilling and unexpected, Somewhere Beautiful is triumphant at retrofitting and perpetuating the best of The Chills, while the unreleased material marks promise for their forthcoming full-length.

Not as mourning as the drunken howls of Iceage and more biting than Shame’s riling observations, Nihilistic Glamour Shots is a disturbing and wholly invigorating release. It's a testament to a fascination with the corrupt and the abnormal.

An album that feels spacious and cinematic, genuinely human and loaded with emotion. It’s one of the classiest and most refined listening experiences you’ll have all year.

Three Dimensions Deep is an album that has helped Amber Mark to recover and find peace within herself. Yet somehow, it has potential to lend itself to anyone’s personal challenges, defining Mark as a force to be reckoned with.

Björk’s Utopia is as much about attempting to reach paradise as it is setting up camp there. On her longest album to date, she has given herself the space to embrace the natural world as well as continuing to reckon with her past.

It’s not perfect--there are moments, such as during "Old Again", where my concentration has wavered--but when it hits the spot ("Big Bopper", "Guilt", "Acid Tongue"), it’s an absolute tour-de-force.

A dazzling introduction to new fans, and a crystal clear familiarity for fans that have been here from the beginning.

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.

Reason to Believe serves as an ideal introduction to its subject’s works for newcomers, whilst sending converts back to revisit the timeless originals.

It’s the contrast of sparkling melodic effervescence and Mould’s obsidian soul that drives the tracks on Patch The Sky. Here, Mould has turned up the contrast between anger and melody, and found some sense of enlightenment.

Pearl Mystic is a promising debut from Hookworms, but whether it’s universally appealing is impugnable--there’s a suspicion that accessibility is not exactly on the top of Hookworms’ priorities; instead making interesting, immersive music to get lost in clearly is.

The result is an incredibly reflective, contemplative body of word that shows a seldomly seen quietude to the quartet.

While it’s not his greatest studio album, or even his best since the turn of the millennium, Mercy is a great example of all that Cale does well, and a real triumph. It's one of the most tonally consistent albums he's ever done.

As it stands, the apple tree under the sea acts as an affirming step that Hemlocke Springs is taking. An adventurous blend of pop across various decades, with a journey that only unleashes courageous swerves rather than shrinking down.

Somehow these seemingly disparate parts hang together as a thematically logical and coherent whole: there’s still some of the year left, but it’s pretty unlikely that there will be a more compelling and inspired guitar album than Acadia emerging in 2024.

Chemtrails leans further into the sounds of sunny, ‘70s California - summoning Judee Sill and Karen Dalton - and it’s watertight too: her first 45 minute album since her debut. Sonically, things sound gorgeous.

Retaining a societal consciousness, Down Tools is not so much a party record but one that surveys the damage after a storm, picking up the pieces with an increasing dose of humour as well as world weariness.

“Vibrant Beast” is an entirely apt term to describe the complete album, as well as serving as its rowdy closing track, with Marijuana Deathsquads emphatically proving once again that there is indeed beauty to be found in electronic dissonance, as well as plenty of original artistry in the band’s boundless creative exploration.

Formentera II more than succeeds in claiming its own place in the world, less a sequel more a very satisfying entity in its own right – on this evidence Metric’s continuing existence seems entirely justified.

The praise and adoration of 2021’s album Thirstier perhaps acts like a precursor to this newfound confidence and it genuinely feels like now is TORRES time after a decade of musically searching for this exact point in time.

Yes, this is serious music, but it blends a mischievous sense of fun and incredulity at its heart.

Amorphous and difficult to pin down, this undefinable hypnagogia is the lasting identity of Chanel Beads, and Your Day Will Come is the vessel from which it was formed.

Eloise is an artist that’s been an exciting prospect for some time, and Drunk On A Plane has delivered what we were all hoping it would.

The overall effect is still unpretentious and upbeat, albeit with a few more melancholic undertones.

With an album this good, feeble little horse are bound for the winner's circle. For now, though, the grass looks plenty green right where they're standing.

A record rich in sentiments of togetherness and compassion, it’s one that will make you want to throw your arms around those you love and tell them everything will be alright.

Unwilling to finish on “14”’s vulnerability, Water From Your Eyes keep us at arm’s length, but eager to burrow deep and discover everything this album has to offer.

Littered with a variety of appearances from A-listers like Cardi B, SZA and Ciara over the course of its twenty tracks, it still finds Walker front and centre, with her characteristically introspective lyrics feeling more gripping than ever.

Mixing witty lines with insightful meditations on life as a black man, Radical proves himself to be a master of his craft, effortlessly providing both incredible lyrical content and flawless instrumentation from start to finish.

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.

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.

Cronin is often at his best when laid bare, and one of MCIII's greatest moments is the relatively sparse closing track "vi) Circle."

Duffy has sculpted an album that vibrates with courage, tenderness, and a sheer insistence to feel. Blue Reminder is not just another indie-folk sojourn; it’s a declaration of presence.

Shulamith provides exactly what you want from a second Poliça album; it’s incredibly fresh and exciting, but still a reminder of what you loved so much the first time round.

Complete with dreamy guitar bends, gorgeous harmonies, and a candid lyricism that Phoebe Bridgers would be proud of, If I Never Know You Like This Again has undoubtedly delivered a hat-trick for the Derry-born artist.

Through AMHAC, JPEGMAFIA has attempted to produce something so questionable, unique and conflicted in its elements, that on first glance, it’s uninviting and dissonant. This goes for the use of his close friends giving faux unfavourable comments about the record in the PR campaign too. Yet that friction he creates and the doubt at the front of your mind makes you concentrate more, breathe in every element and realise its undeniable quality.

Not unlike The Twilight Sad’s mastery of making an emotional impact with the combination of a few choice blunt images and a monolithic musical arrangement, Of the Sun derives a good portion of its power from persistence. Trupa Trupa continue to hit the mark as they experiment with simplification without excising the art from their rock.

They have always effortlessly switched registers, blurred genre boundaries and smattered their lyrics with eclectic cultural references. Citizen Zombie does all of these things, without loosing its political edge.

She might have talked about breaking the rules on Sucker, but here you can feel her doing it, and it turns out to be a thrilling ride.

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.

It sounds like they’ve given kautrock an intense, life-threatening electric shock, while simultaneously floating through 41 minutes (or your entire lifetime, dare you interrupt the endless loop) with the elegance and unpredictability of a kite in the sky.

While Shade certainly holds no surprise, it’s an album that brims with substance and Harris’ longtime base won’t skip a beat in welcoming these tracks.

Radiating self confidence and assuredness, Celeste bolsters her existing catalogue of soft, somber songs with moments of upbeat glitter-funk and rollicking neo soul.

Their fresh, invigorated sound arrives like cascading droplets of water from a waterfall whose source you’ve yet to locate through the mist. And with Lease Of Life, the effervescent Scottish crew has once again served up a vibrant collection of gems that will still sound polished long after the glimmer of this era begins to show signs of fading.

CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST has no central theme or concept. However, where Tyler, The Creator shines on this project is how beautifully he fuses together the youthful angst of his earlier output with the older, more introspective side we have seen from more recent releases.

Doggerel finds the American alternative mainstays reinstating bittersweet peaks and ironic edge, the interplay of Black Francis and Paz Lenchantin’s quasi-mystical vocal patter joining songwriting that captures the four-piece’s creeping, jack-o-lantern-leering spirit.

What Short Movie does do is remind us of the poise with which Marling carries her prodigious ability as a songwriter, and reaffirm that she’s genuinely ambitious, too; she sounds excited again, and so should we be.

Even when tracks are slowed down, momentum is kept up through classic, subtle funk elements and hints of gospel-music playing behind.

Even for those of us who’d never before considered the possibility of a James Blake and Lil Yachty collab, Bad Cameo somehow provides exactly what you’d expect. Ideas in abundance, terrific variety, a little indulgence, and an end product that actually makes perfect sense.

Hermits On Holiday is that rarest of treats, a side-project that could be its writers’ day job. Bristling with brio and invention, it sounds as much fun to listen to as its creators evidently had making it.

In My Name Is My Name, Pusha T has produced one of the most diverse and constantly rewarding hip-hop records of the year; twelve tracks tied together by a man at the top of his form and who, quite soon, may yet reach the highest summits.

Far from monotonous, the band’s seemingly relentless pummelling rewards a patient listener with plenty of hypnotic texture and enriching detail that is far easier to simply feel and become immersed in than do justice to with words.

Some of what emerges from this flood of archival activity is essential (unreleased 1974 album Homegrown, released June 2020), some of it is must-hear for even medium-level fans (Rust Bucket) and some is for die-hard fanatics only (Return to Greendale, a live rendition of 2003's tune-dodging rock opera that came out in November 2020). Young Shakespeare belongs firmly in the richly rewarding middle category.

This is a record that repays multiple listens, and may prove to be The Deep Dark Woods’ most enduring album yet.

Hynde sounds like she’s never left her glory days, and to assume anything less would be a disservice. Her voice is rich with age, thick with wisdom, perfect for listlessly reminiscing about smoky hotel rooms and other rockstar cliches of “her prime”.

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.

Freed from the spectre of Unicorns' success and freed from the burden of their debut Return To The Sea, Islands offers us the transcendent Islomania, their most convincing album in 15 years.

This album makes use of every single second of its runtime, jam-packed with choruses so huge and emotional, no one can quite replicate her unique sound and vision.

Most Normal is mostly freeform pieces with no real beginning, midpoint or end. It's typically confrontational, throwing the listener face first into their wall of noise with some spectacular excursions into how to make naturally rhythmic instruments sound ugly, aggressive, unpleasant and ultimately cathartic.

Despite moments that may lull, Night Moves exude with charisma and reformed creative panache on an LP that will find favour with seasoned fans and new listeners alike.

Wednesday know what they want to say, and how: Pouring their hearts out with reckless riffage to illustrate the agony and ecstasy of smalltown life.

Things Are Great is certainly a return to their best form, and it shows signs of the band entering a new golden era with the next one. Just hope it’s not another six years in the making.

Bird Machine is a resonant final word from an enormously talented singer-songwriter. While Linkous clearly struggled with depression, his music often feels as if it’s soaked in light and infused with love, even as it evokes melancholy and apprehension.

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.

Allow a while for these songs to seep in, and The Monster Who Hated Pennsylvania will leave you deeply moved, and desperate for more.

With a blend of fact and fiction, Isbell has created his own Nebraska and secured his place among the greats of country-rock.

Souvenirs is the creation of a band who have to make music and like all great debuts it’s both a culmination of their beginnings as well as a pointer to the wide open road ahead.

Fearless is releasing the best material of his career.

Cardamone’s crew are at their peak when moving between the simmering heat and the fireball, and these drawn-out song structures give them more space than ever to explore the tension between nervy build-up and cathartic release.

This is an album both challenging and gorgeous-sounding. If occasionally over-ambitious, it is always attention-grabbing, and very often risk-taking in the most positive sense.

A clear and consistent exercise in true class from a band who clearly haven’t lost a step, they just took a few stray ones.

Minor setbacks aside, it’s another beautiful, consumable collection of music from Bibio that no other artist could make sound so inherently theirs, and one that leaves Wilkinson's future musical trajectory as wide open as it’s ever been.

In word and sound Little Neon Limelight is an unashamedly backward-looking record, and it's all the better for it.

After a string of EPs, Chinouriri arrives at her first full-length with confidence and ease. Devastation has never sounded so fun.

All told, Breach is a sustainable thrill that despite the ambulatory nature of their name is more of a monument, or a line in the sand, especially in light of purported inter-band friction during the recording process.

A subdued record tied to no one setting. No matter where it is, Somewhere is a place of subtle beauty to find solace in.

It's everything you've ever loved about Guided By Voices, all smashed together in one record.

Its musical journey mirrors yeule’s life progression, pairing alternative rock with electronic glitch just as yeule couples their human self with their cyborg persona. This creates spectacular results, opening up to raw and honest emotion all while maintaining the mystery.

Metronomy have stepped up from the mantle of electro-pop, and matured into the sort of band that endures. Excitingly still, they leave us with no idea where they’ll go next.

This might be a transient flash in the pan for some, but it’ll find a special, permanent home in the hearts of others.

Simultaneously more overtly experimental yet more easily accessible - even the most cacophonous warble here is rooted in strong melodies--than Holden's past output, The Animal Spirits is a triumph that makes rigidly electronic textures seem so last year.

With For The Company, Little May have added another worthy entrant to 2015's albums of modern blues and, unlike the relationships that inhabit its songs, it gets better with each visit.

Seeds is a very strong album, even if it may alienate fans of their older synth-led doom-gaze sound. Their loss--this is a triumph that has risen from tragedy, a glittering testament to a fallen band mate who has been done proud.