It’s a disco ball in a downtrodden pub that occasionally shines a light on the ashtray angst of early Iceage, while remaining focused on the wider picture.

AI could never replicate the unique balance between deranged imagination and supreme sanity that is the mark of a great Sparks record like this.

Marvelously swinging across the blend of new wave, post-punk, and pop-rock sonics. However, what pulls it down is Dan Nigro’s production work. He turns many of the grooves and guitars distractingly underpowered. .... Despite that specific flaw, it doesn’t slip down Olivia Rodrigo’s sharpest songwriting to date.

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.

Suffice to say, Alicia Bognanno is in her prime as a musician, songwriter, and producer, and somehow comes out of Losing better than before, proving herself as one of the most consistent and impressive artists of the decade.

The blistering sounds are as sabre-toothed as ever.

The first five tracks are thrillingly and relentlessly inventive, but then comes a handful of weaker numbers which don’t deviate all that much from the Kanye blueprint (at least as much as you could trace such a thing through 808s and Twisted Fantasy).

For a debut album that finds her moving away from her comfort zone as much as revelling in it, Maya Jane Coles has delivered something very fine indeed.

Crucially, New Misery never sinks--it’s lightweight enough to ensure it never gets weighed down.

His truly great albums tend to freshen things up by rearranging and adding to the toolkit whereas, by trekking back to earlier, unadorned works, this one maybe feels a bit too familiar. That said, it's still easily impressive enough for visitors to Sheffield to want to check out Hollow Meadows, too.

Only Underworld have truly kept up with the consistency of The Chemical Brothers, and with the scintillating form shown on For That Beautiful Feeling, it’s going to take something really spectacular to catch up.

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.

There is considerable range here, yet there is also so much nuance on what is a challenging and simultaneously rewarding record.

What For? is slightly less varied than previous releases and exist just add to the gestalt of a ‘rock’ album. Thankfully, though, What For? ends on a high point.

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.

Lacuna is a euphoric, ecstatic and effortlessly cool record which warrants your undivided and immediate attention.

Some of his trademark glitchiness is gone, but it's replaced with masterfully skillful composition and delivery and, like a Squarepusher record, Elektrac does not simply fade in the background; rather it requires an active listener and results in total appreciation of the talent.

Emerging from the Norwegian shadows, the gentle genius has again struck with his best work to date.

A darker, rougher beast than either of its predecessors, it’s a highly expansive piece of work.

You Can Do Better is still the JoFo you might know and love, and for anyone coming to it fresh it actually provides a fantastic gate-way album, with fairly obvious retro sensibilities but an energy, enthusiasm and self-confidence that keeps it feeling relevant and modern.

It’s an album of such focus and dedication to its oddness and brilliance that you can tell just how much work has been put in.

If this sounds heavy then the album’s crowning achievement is that it often doesn’t feel that way, buoyed by percussive production from Black Milk, Gold Panda, Frank Leone and others, and Mike’s dark humour.

1000 Forms of Fear is a anguished pop album for our uncertain times, crafted by an artist who is conflicted and torn by her celebrity as well as her vulnerable heart.

With Plastic Hearts, comes a wonderful album about life as a fiercely independent woman. Cyrus has found the perfect balance of pushing her own musical boundaries whilst proving she’s one of the strongest and bravest names in the constant celebrity whirlwind.

That! Feels Good! isn’t as lyrically vibrant or extraordinary as What’s Your Pleasure? but holds its own with slinky grooves and a lane where Ware feels most comfortable.

When it works (and that's most of the time), FLOTUS proves the wisdom of risk-taking over crowd-pleasing complacency.

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.

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.

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.

Chockful of jazz that embraces you in a familiar feeling, Source is akin to an old friend you may not see for a while, but whenever you do, the world feels that little bit brighter and it’s as if no time has passed at all.

The lyrics are tighter, more poetic and speak volumes of a band that have something quite specific to express.

A series of vulnerable, tender numbers that highlight how talented a songwriter White truly is--a trait that gets lost amidst the critical commotion surrounding his increasingly eccentric creative pursuits.

The album’s sonic homogeneity lends it an air of sameness at first blush, but the details burrow their way out on subsequent listens; the guitar work, in particular, offers fleeting doses of delightfully understated melodicism to counterpoint the slow industrial grind beneath.

Not to Disappear is made as carefully and beautifully as you would expect--balancing the acts of remaining true and pushing forward. It does this with an air of self-assured calm and the clarity that a few extra years of being alive bring.

Most albums would capsize under weight of a colossus like “Defeat”, a seamless combination of disembodied, sweet yet wounded underwater harmonies, drone-fueled introspection and outbreaks of mellow yet exuberant rhythmic mantras (which echo the Grateful Dead at their most joyously lively) that doesn’t waste a second despite its marathon 22-minute duration. However, the rest of Isn’t It Now? lives up to the outsized expectations created by its centrepiece.

Intoxicating soundscapes and irresistible hooks have long catapulted Leff to the top of the pop sphere. All 4 Nothing not only reaffirms this notion, it’s perfect proof that there is so much more to come; a glimpse into the depths of Lauv’s psyche and unlimited creative potential.

Though it may have lost some of the urgency of their debut, Before a Million Universes has allowed the band to develop a level of genuine introspection rarely seen in the hardcore of today.

The consistent rapport between Prekop, Prewitt and McEntire is more than enough to propel the Sea and Cake steady on their course.

There's a distinct and purposeful artifice surrounding New Last Name that lends it enough intrigue and depth while still being able to simply say, "See, we can do this too." And you know what? They can!

Singles “POiiSON” and “SEiiZURE” close out HiiDE on an undeniable high; a reminder that whilse BABii’s genreless electro-dance-pop hybrid may echo similarly macabre and mysterious predecessors, her high-concept, DIY approach reveals a strength of vision that’s all her own.

Fourteen years have passed since they arose, and while so much has changed in the world, Art Brut are a welcome constant. Wham! Bang! Pow! Art Brut are back, and better than ever!

Electric Balloon sees Ava Luna staying the course in producing music that is as heady, adventurous and intelligent as that of their debut, if not more so.

Riff’s lyricism, rightfully lionized for its eccentricity and boundary pushing--Riff Raff, along with rappers like Heems and Kool A.D., extend the idea of rapping as abstract expressionists did painting--is not so often hailed for its dexterity, which Neon Icon demonstrates in its barbed hooks, lackadaisical lopes, professional wrestler entering the ring peacocking.

The album slowly loses its sanity: Edging over that transgressive line, like all good punk bands do.

An album promising to be, with a sly wink, True Entertainment, turns out to be all that and way, way more.

Never has Kesha's music felt this inspiringly rich. It has all the potential of once again making her a staple on the music scene, and this time even beyond pop.

Very often Hippo Lite feels like wandering into Cate Le Bon and Tim Presley’s tossed off living room recording session. However, the pair have taught us the valuable lesson that weirdness needn’t be conjured under pretense from far out places while the mundanity of real life can prove far more potent.

Love Hallucination ultimately feels like an artist riding on intuition.

My Big Day is a powerful offering from Bombay Bicycle Club. Vibrant, joyous, and completely delectable, the band have taken a daring U-turn from their usual breezy, laid-back numbers, and its paid off.

Q is as distinct and powerful a voice in hip-hop as Kendrick, and he manages to bring the likes of Kanye West, Swizz Beatz, Anderson .Paak, and Vince Staples to Figg St. on one of the year’s best rap albums thus far. The only real dissonance here comes on Miguel collaboration “Overtime.”

Do Easy invites you into its own rarefied world, a world where things are exotic, tranquil and seductively unique and makes you want to stay there.

Though it does wear its influences a little to clearly on its sleeve to be truly original, the end result is a wonderful homage to their heroes and full of some of the best pop to come out of Scandinavia in recent years.

Spacious but awash with invention, Arrhythmia will be easily overlooked by many, but cherished by those that take the time to live with, and in, it for a while.

Tricky’s struck gold once again with this.

In many ways, Impermanence is vintage Silberman, a sullen continuation of his preoccupations with the maudlin and the melancholy. And irrefutable proof that silence is indeed golden.

Imagination is what makes this record. There’s something about each one of these tracks that lulls out a scenario from the recesses of your brain, with each different sonic motif working around the others to complete a narrative, which fades out of your mind immediately as the song melts into itself at the end, like the disintegrating dawn reverie we all experience on attempting to remember a dream.

Far more than an angry reactive, Tudzin proves herself to be a wily observer and highly competent commentator, as capable of a considered repose as she is a cutting catchphrase.

There’s a wealth of delicious treats held within this set to more than sate your curious appetite.

It’s somewhat beyond comprehension that their unique remedy to feeling down in the dumps hasn’t broken in the UK yet, but believe us when we say that this is an album, and a band, that deserves your full attention.

This is an assured step forward in every sense--Honeyblood are back from the brink and there’s a new sting in their tail.

Like the other aforementioned boxsets from Cherry Red, they eschew the ‘hits’ to get down to the obnoxious and primal heart of the genre, this is geeky crate digging in CD form, designed to entertain and educate.

From the sharp synth stabs of “Bit Of Rain” to the distorted reflections of album closer “Awful”, all led by Rodriguez’s fantastic vocals, I’m Your Empress Of is a funky, generous and vibrant record.

As a confident debut, What I Breathe encapsulates exactly what Mall Grab wants us to feel. Weaving multiple genres together through dance and electronic, he shows us what he lives for and what’s pushing him forward.

By being unafraid to turn up the grit of the guitars and building the wall of sound above the foundations of their debut even higher, it manages to set a more recent benchmark for newer acts to reach, but is still similar to acts who have toyed with the genre before it’s more mainstream return.

The Baby is an incredibly self-aware pop record that proves Samia’s not a baby anymore.

In fact, far from feeling like a tired riff on an established formula, Turbines might just be the most definitive Tunng record yet.

It’s the same but slightly more so. Solid and satisfying.

It’s a glowing return from Kate NV, a cavalcade of bright sounds arranged into gems of pure, often brilliantly silly fun. Her finest work yet.

While not a step forward, What Went Down is a consolidation and refinement of Foals’ artistic strengths and explorations over their previous trio of albums.

Fragments feels like the culmination of everything that Simon Green has been building up to over the last 20 plus years. A rich and cathartic release from a musician at the very top of his game.

With There Existed An Addiction To Blood, Clipping have artfully seized upon the viscera of the horrorcore genre, creating an album which is both disheartening and sonically intriguing. It is yet another successful experiment for the group and one of the eeriest examples of modern hip-hop to date.

The moment you think you've had enough, it's over with, leaving behind a trail of desire to press play, over and over again.

Complex yet surprisingly accessible, Dan’s Boogie doesn’t necessarily break a huge amount of new ground. It does however, see Bejar successfully refining his craft even further with superb results.

This band are masters of their craft, and Dances in Dreams of the Known and Unknown is simply more evidence to attest to that assertion.

The cocksure quality of My Love Is Cool represents some majority of its charm.

Language is satisfyingly expansive, exploring the connection between communication and physicality in contemporary queer relationships.

Little Mix’s candidness throughout is admirable, even thrilling in its bravery.

Ultimately, Everyone Says Hi is the sound of a multi-platinum songwriter with a fresh fire under him – someone who has turned the page yet can’t help but pack these tunes with the kind of melodic heft that lands them squarely on your repeat playlist.

We see a spritz of various weapons in her arsenal, and though they may be brief snippets, they ensure that we’re not fatigued by her noise. Instead, we’d actually quite like more. A lot more.

This album is not a timeless classic, it is a du jour album that showcases a drummer and producer’s talent at capturing the sound of the times. It should be enjoyed as such: a testament to young musicians blending tradition and modernity in exciting new ways.

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.

Alpha Zulu confronts reality with a dreamy neon-lit elegance pulsing with playful vitality, it runs on its nerves but has its feet on the dance floor.

Samaris’s songs are just so cleverly composed and gracefully balanced, that it’s sometimes hard to pick them apart.

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.

It showcases a love of jazz and world music, bringing these sounds into their existing sound in an exciting and offbeat fashion. It acts as a bridge to their next full release, something for fans to pour over and get lost in with a huge amount of variety and talent on display.

It’s a stylish swerve dipping into luxurious large-scale arrangements with woodwind flourishes, haunting lullabies and even “20% adult contemporary”, showcasing their breadth of influence and genre play across ten tracks with more scope than ever.

A curious, engrossing listen.

Collapse isn’t accessible per se, but it is a release which perfectly reflects the finest elements of Richard James’ oeuvre. It is a record liberated from convention, unafraid of failure and confident in its depth.

A master of mesmeric laments, Roberts can conjure dusky cemetery air in a twitching of his fingers or sombre exhalation, yet A Wonder Working Stone offers high spirits in the gloaming as well as low.

The album not only justifies its existence but also adds something vital to the band’s legacy. It’s messy, lean, sharp, and relentless. Not cleaned up. Just tuned up and turned loose.

Every track here is distinct and complex. The Way and Color is not an album designed to blend into the background noise of your day. It really demands your time. It demands to be listened to.

They continue to forge gripping narratives and confrontive declarations, their verses ensconced, often straitjacketed, in industrial, hardcore, and metal sonics. In fact, there’s not much “mock” here, just well-crafted juggernaut mixes and volatile cum apoplectic vocals, with touches of pop sensibility thrown in for good measure.

[The EP] follows the lead of last year’s return to form The Take Off and Landing of Everything in its sonic subtlety.

A powerful collection. And if Heavy Is The Head is one thing, it’s aware of its own worth.

The album’s sprawl also allows the stunning space-funk title track to spread its wings for full lift-off unhurriedly over 9 minutes until total resistance-shattering hypnosis has been achieved. If this is their Silver, Say She She’s gold must be out of this world.

It’s not that the album is particularly any shorter than any other album – clocking in at around 40 minutes--it’s that it’s so tightly-packed with such consistently good content and is so musically pithy, that you just can’t ever really get enough out of it.

Sometimes it is easy to forget that Lost & Found is Smith’s first LP. The sureness and creativity that exudes from each and every song disguises what some would call a lack of experience.

when i paint is an intimate record full of poetic and melodic turns, giving you the impression that sometimes Levy herself is surprised by where it takes her.