Furman’s upfront picture of Goodbye Small Head is perhaps clouded by jest: “orchestral emo prog-rock record sprinkled with samples,” she writes. Yet, it’s a continued display of her marked empathy as a songwriter, trying to seize control against a rhetoric centred on exclusion. Her observational musings are even more: a sign to band together now more than ever.

Black Noise dissolves existing genres and gives you a taste of what may lie beyond the system he’s fighting against.

This record is Jade Bird’s strongest to date, an expansion of her sonic influences and an intimate depiction of the aftermath of a breakup and the trials and tribulations that come with that.

If you like “State Sponsored Psychosis”, you’ll enjoy it a tad faster in “The Abduction”. The dazzling backdrops overpower Pelant’s vulnerability, detracting from his authenticity. Nonetheless, they regain their footing with closer “Desperation”, a hopeful, power pop gem affirming where Night Moves currently stand.

The result is music that feels dreamlike and at times, feverishly nightmarish, occupying multiple emotional and sonic spaces at once. Xiu Motha Fuckin’ Xiu: Vol. 1 is uncompromising and unsparing, driven by a kind of manic clarity that refuses prediction.

[A] frustratingly muted but nevertheless enthralling follow-up.

This is a lovely, lovely piece of work from a band that are still to produce a dud.

Deep In The Iris feels like something of a sidestep for the band, a digression that toys with candour while still being dominated by a carefully calculated instrumental palette. Overall, their song structures are more concise than they’ve ever been, and they demonstrate an increasing willingness to draw from popular paradigms.

Shrink Dust is still very much a CVG record, just one that you can cozy up with a little easier.

Moonshine Freeze is an album that sparkles with exuberance and energy, but it also subtly and steadily gives up its deeper secrets. Stables has always had a knack for accomplished melody and intriguing lyrics, and as you dive under the surface, you can’t help but find a wealth of inspiring rewards.

Those who like their Bad Seeds really bad may be disappointed with the tracklisting, but what stands true with this release is that Cave can be at his most powerful when at his most soulful.

Her child-like rhymes may seem like she’s only toying with playground politics but she knows exactly where her strengths are; Matangi is a tribute to those talents and it’s an unmitigated thrill. Dissident, deviant, “mili-tent”; Cookie cutter pop star she is not, but a true great she absolutely is.

A couple of less than diverting songs aside, this is an album that won’t be forgotten in a hurry whichever way you look at it.

Ever since 2009’s lo-fi debut Bird-Brains, every Tune-Yards album has offered raw excitement. Better Dreaming does too, and it may just be their most uplifting and inspiring work to boot. Give it a listen – you’ll be dreaming better.

Plainly speaking, this is psychedelic music, and it’s music that’s both moving and a pleasure to move to.

On her debut, Sleepless Dreamer, the folk-soaked, pedal steel tinged sound felt like a familiar friend knocking on your door. With Magic Mirror, that friend has returned, with some stories to tell while ready to dazzle with a sparkle.

It’s a fine tuned record that leans into bold pop refrains whilst gripping firmly onto its DIY roots. It’s an irresistible listen.

The Rat Road is a record from not just a producer, but an artist, fully in command of his new direction.

These are songs with the glossiest pop sheen steamrolled over them, erasing any wrinkles or mishaps – the exact thing that made her so endearing to begin with.

In the end, Sleater-Kinney’s ongoing evolution may divide opinion, but there’s no doubt that this is a band that still has important stories to tell.

Everything’s been cleaned up and beautifully balanced, and it’s for the better; the engineering is so good, in fact, it actually elevates the songs themselves. ... While nothing here [in the collection of six demos] is all that revelatory, it’s still fun to watch the band tinker with their songs.

There’s a self-assuredness that runs throughout the project. Crisp and crystalline, the cohesiveness alone make Diamond’s latest re-imagining of pop pretty much perfect, but it's her attention to detail that elevates it even higher. Lyrically she goes deeper than before, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the album takes a dark turn – in fact its sound is bright and bold.

Each tone, note, or scrape here seems deliberate and purposeful without ever feeling overly controlled.

It’s a record that celebrates the wonder of sound, with deceptively intricately songs under a balmy haze of reverb that gets better with each listen.

What lets the record dive into her usual realm of staggering emotional depth is, again, her emotive core relentlessly shooting out UV rays of hesitant optimism.

Even if a few rougher edges wouldn’t go amiss, the results prove resonant, occasionally reminiscent of the similarly genre-blending mash-up of black music styles exemplified by Sault.

Desire Lines is another gorgeously-crafted pop record from a band that make them look easy; melody, harmony and sophistication are all present in abundance.

While the peaks on +- are cloud-scraping highs, there are lows to temper the bliss.

On Flower of Devotion, production is sharper, lyrics cut deeper, and the palette is more diverse, making for a much more rewarding listen than last year’s Water and their 2016 debut.

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

Cementing his return with unearthed new, innovative territories, Robinson ensures electronica has never felt more organic as it does on Nurture.

It’s a treat to hear all these iconic and sometimes underrated themes again, even going so far as to cover Ennio Morricone’s ominous theme for The Thing and Jack Nitzsche’s grand, celestial Starman theme.

With Phantom Brickworks Bibio has not only created a record that stands apart from his other Warp albums to date, but has cemented his mastery of the atmospheric; creating an album that can imprint on a listeners’ surroundings like few others.

Punk will likely not be remembered as a great Young Thug album, but we should appreciate that we get to hear him tinker with his sound for when he finally puts it all together again.

Shows Hus display his greatest quality - his music. Straightening his ‘darling of UK rap’ crown, it is an album that experiments with a variety of sounds and sonic styles, in a more dynamic way than previous offerings.

There’s an aching pain that throbs throughout Hendra. But as the personal suffering that shapes the album is lamented, there is a clear cathartic quality to these songs.

Clean showcases what it is to be stuck in a quicksand of self-loathing, and have it stop you from seeing your own accomplishments and more importantly, being proud of them. If Allison isn’t already chuffed with this debut, she should be.

Call the Comet finds Marr in his element, making articulate, direct rock ‘n’ roll with an ultimately optimistic sense of purpose.

The LP offers one of the most compelling and honest explorations of addiction in recent musical memory - it’s filled with grizzly, visceral declarations that underscore the stakes at hand.

The album is a heavy 17 tracks that last over 70 minutes, meaning it’s a long and intense listen, but deliberately so--loneliness is a long and intense feeling.

Tomb is a record of heartbreak that never wallows, a reflection on loss that does not allow itself to become stuck in the past, and resolutely optimistic at its core. What we find here, on what is arguably the pinnacle of his output to date, is De Augustine achieving the beautiful balance between introspection and grandeur; straddling the place where pain and hope intersect.

A Bit of Previous fails to standout. Whilst carrying the same overall feel of If You’re Feeling Sinister and The Boy With the Arab Strap, it lacks the depth and storytelling brilliance that originally made this band so exciting.

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.

Combining the spirit of Britpop with the attitude of modern day post punk, tracks like “Going Soft” , “Here It Comes Again” and the familiar cries of “Camel Crew” and “Kutcher”, swell, expand and know just when to pull the pin into an eruption of chaos.

The final 2 minutes of the [last] track feature a stream of guitar-generated distortion dotted with melodic hints that quickly rise and pass. It’s a glorious coda to an impressive return, a reemergence that shows the band at their most versatile, free to be themselves.

There’s rarely a moment over the past 25 years where Dean Wareham’s failed to deliver an album that’s at least three-quarters brilliant, and Emancipated Hearts doesn’t change that record.

The sound of the album is too monochrome in general, with ballads and epics all drawing from a similar palette. That being said, there are stunning moments too.

Night Life is a dark synth album from a band turning away from the big expansive sounds of the past to explore both the desolation and pleasures when light turns to dark, and their best album since Skying.

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.

Never Let Me Go feels like an astute observation of our current post-pandemic social climate, as if the current global narrative has finally caught up to that of Placebo's internal monologue. And though the realities of that are pretty bloody bleak, at least we've got an excellent album out of it.

Omnion isn't hugely different from the Hercules albums that came before it, but that's not really the appeal of the group: their records have always been episodic because of their guest vocalists, and Omnion feels like checking in with a group of friends, the focus shifting with each new song.

This album is pretty good – the beats are nice, the rapping is decently energetic and forceful. But in the context of Peggy’s discography, where he’s invariably flowed like all hell over the most original production in recent hip-hop memory, this falls a little flat. I Lay Down My Life For You is good – but it isn’t quite good enough.

With Tearing at the Seams, Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats have distillated the ups and downs life throws at you into a vibrant collection of many-hued vignettes; some make you smile, some make you well up, and some make for the ideal accompaniment to good ol’ sauced-up revelry. Whatever the case, they’ll all make you feel that thing inside you. Soul.

While its tunes are a little weaker than that of her previous albums, she emulates the “poetry without the words” she mentions on “Sacred”, snapshotting around a subject in order to construct a clear picture. But sometimes the resulting image is a little hazy.

Something We All Got is the third album from the Toronto group and the recipe of buzzing, breathless quite often vulnerable sound has been matured and given new life.

Fanfare deserves a round of applause for taking a fearsomely retro concept (album as a mega-budget, widescreen statement) and, rather than sinking waist-deep into pointless pastiche or a rehash of vintage mistakes, ending up with a piece of work that would have been remarkable had it been released during the era it emulates, and which sounds remarkably ‘now’ today.

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

Beatopia highlights an artist who has matured quickly, honing her initial work while impressively expanding her aesthetic scope.

Honeymoon reaffirms her ability to make important, masterful pop music that doesn’t pay a blind bit of notice to fashion and it's all the better for it.

Toujours reminisces to an age of simple love songs, and Sabina encapsulates a more elegant, Breton-wearing, subtle popstar in the milieu of Serge Gainsbourg’s Paris.

I can feel you creep into my private life never feels worthy or didactic, partly because its component doubts and sorrows nonetheless conspire to a joyous union.

It's clear that these compositions are infused by strong emotions and the inescapable weight of memories, but it's not always easy to interpret the hidden meaning.

While a covers album can be a pedestrian thing, often about what the artist can do to make their mark on a song or set of songs, Bonnie Prince Billy’s homage to Haggard is so much more than that--it’s reaching out to a ghost, pulling the uninitiated to a plane where it’s possible for Haggard to be renewed and revitalised while all the time being revered and respected.

On Hold On Baby, we find King Princess both more coy and more confident than we’ve ever heard her, and she leaves us little doubt that both those sides of her feed one another.

This is also her most musically subtle and lyrically direct album to date.

With II, Metz have done more than enough to cement themselves as the new kings of transgressive hard rock, and that's a crown which is going to be difficult for anyone to wrestle from them.

The record may be 24 tracks long, but it is delivered at such a speed that it packs its punches long before the ice in your drink has a chance to melt.

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.

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

Lyrically, Ape is among his best records, even with a few missteps on tracks like “Fancy Man”.

Ibeyi is an ambitious debut record from the twosome, and one that deserves to be heard by as many people as possible.

Elytral is rarely a passive listen: Epworth’s maximalist approach means that every song throws up at least one surprising moment. Even the more pop-leaning tracks have uneasy elements.

Ultimately, Indian Yard doesn’t really leave the listener knowing Ya Tseen. But some songs do hint at a distinctive identity.

It emits a level of depth that leaves you sometimes not really able to pinpoint what’s what, and other times feeling yourself being drawn in.

Ultimately, the album repays careful and repeated attention, its varied qualities cohering effectively with a measured sense of control that, simultaneously, offers positive indications of the considerable potential for future even more diverse arrangements.

With just a mere 26 minutes forming its contents, you’re left wanting to know more. On the other hand, it’s the short, creative simplicity of The Bunkhouse Vol. I: Anchor Black Tattoo that makes it so special.

It’s an admirable essay in re-invention, brought about by necessity certainly, but no less successful for all that.

Comparing Happiness Not Included to their previous material is futile and mildly ridiculous, that push-pull of pop success, art-school background, and the resulting imposter syndrome which comes when all they wanted to be was a Throbbing Gristle you could dance to is a demon they’ve spent decades trying to escape from, whilst also courting, that unease creating the tension which is evident in all their output, including here.

Songs like “Give Up”, “So Long”, “Terrible Youth”--all of them, really, there are only nine--are fuzzed out and unfussy, but not just simple pleasures. They kick in the door but then make themselves welcome for a long stay.

Happy in The Hollow is their most satisfying work to date, doubly notable for its being the first record the band have produced themselves.

While Taylor definite seems to prefer to approach his themes and ideas with a sombre touch, he’s not afraid to whack up the pace a notch or two, and it appears he actively enjoys getting stuck into dissembling standard percussive forces.

Welcome Break is an album that asks listeners not to scour for small faults, but to devote themselves fully to the ambiance of this simultaneously retro-sounding, yet forward-looking album.

As heavy, hard rock records go, Once More ‘Round the Sun isn’t necessarily a bad one; it’s just that it seems, like The Hunter before it, to be nudging Mastodon further and further away from what made them stand out in the first place.

Terrestrials sounds surprisingly cohesive considering the project’s improvised roots and slow development.

Its slight downfall is a lack of lyrical dexterity, recycling phrases as a crutch, perhaps. The overriding feeling, however, is that this record indicates no end to the creativity of a commercially undervalued act whose longevity was never prophesised.

While Emperor of Sand is amongst their heaviest, proggiest material to date, it’s also the quartet at their most emotionally bare. Mastodon have dug deep into their darkest moments and have surfaced with one of the best albums of their career.

The Feminine Divine can’t match those first three deathless classic albums and falls just below the convincing return that was One Day I’m Going to Soar. Still, there’s enough of their unique brilliance on display to make this a qualified victory.

Strange Burden, while infuriatingly short, is paced and produced acutely.

Her flow can often be propulsive and deadly, and every so often, she strikes gold (“All Mine” and “AAAHH MEN!”). Even something like “Jealous Type”, one of Vie’s least cohesive mash of rap and pop, gets the job done.

The group may be battling their more indulgent tendencies at times, but Drive-By Truckers always find a path back towards redemption somewhere along the line.

The result is a record much darker in tone than previous outings, yet still harbours the sardonic wit that endeared us to them all those years ago

On Mediation of Ecstatic Energy he is able to give that virtuosity a form that makes for a coherent, beautiful album.

Age and time haven’t withered the power of Thee Silver Mt. Zion; if anything, this five-piece incarnation of the band has distilled all that free-jazz/post-rock/orchestral/folk/punk/metal influence into a record that’s the best work the Canadians have produced to date.

Her songs look straight into the abyss and still reach out for colour. That choice, made again and again across the album, gives it a quiet power, one as a listener you have to be willing to absorb to feel fully.

A compelling listen, and a new side to Doug Paisley.

At its finest, The Waterfall balances between mad and magnificent.

Country Sleep is a convincing opening from a songwriter worth paying attention to.

Nielson and Unknown Mortal Orchestra have created a genuinely psychedelic pop gem in the sense that it has virtually zero on in common with what psych-pop is supposed to sound like. What's more, the results are easily infectious enough for us to join them without hesitation on this richly rewarding ride into the unknown.