This is comfortably the most sonically-pristine album that Belle & Sebastian have made.

Iceage are therefore seemingly unafraid of experimentation and to play with sounds and instrumentation they discover in the process of creation. And Plowing Into The Field Of Love, acts as an extraordinary documentation of this process, where influence and intuition have come together in perfect union, allowing Iceage to expand without losing their core. In turn, they have matured to find catharsis in texture, dynamics and control rather than fast-paced adolescent aggression.

Songs Cycles certainly doesn’t represent all that Van Dyke Parks has to say about the state of the modern world, but the album does manage to assuredly illuminate Parks’ singular artistic vision and his enduring impact on the music of our times.

Invitation is a classic grower in the sense that, while it does have its weaknesses, repeated listens drawing out these details do overpower them over time.

There’s a tightness and economy to the sound that makes the album sound excitingly different.

It is not all perfect. Here and there, Mould switches onto autopilot and ends up filling up dead space in songs with half-arsed, Foo Fighters-ish powerchord passages, and the less said about the awful AOR dud “Let the Beauty Be” the better, But these moments are few and far between, with the bulk of the album consisting of straightforward, accomplished rock songs with enough muscle to anchor their poppy choruses and prevent them from floating off into Green Day territory.

The music itself is, in truth, not all that much of a departure from the trademark spiky, speedy post-punk that found a home on Light Up Gold and Sunbathing Animal. But the album’s covers, something hitherto avoided, offer a little respite from the repetition.

While it doesn’t rank as an essential live album concert disc by any stretch of the imagination, and even though it’s plagued by a slow start, New Order’s Live at Bestival 2012 will probably stand as their most solid live recording, celebrating their storied career with their best songs from 3 decades of albums.

While Life Metal serves as the stronger of the two LPs, Pyroclasts holds its own, musing reflection placed boldy alongside atmospheric fury – two elements that have shaped Sunn O)))’s career and why they continue to be ranked as a top-tier act capable of reconfiguring heavy metal and pushing it into new territory.

The sense of freedom that comes with being unapologetically herself must be exhilarating – it’s definitely infectious.

It's less playful than before but feels like an evolution rather than an adjustment. There's a more textural feel than before, edging closer to the muted space of Phoebe Bridgers' Punisher, or Antonoff's work with Lana Del Rey, and it suits Swift well as this point in her career.

While this might not be among the (minimum) of three absolute masterpieces he’s created over the last two decades (pick your own), it deserves your full attention, indulgence and sick laughter all the very same.

An album that retains much of the vitality and vigour of the band’s previous releases, but where those albums were coloured by a fresh-faced excitement and in the invincibility of youth, No Grace is the sound of band who’ve discovered that life is fleeting, so they’re taking it for what it’s got.

They never really embrace as much lyrical darkness as they did on their debut album, though, and they don’t exactly reach for the occasional glimpse of light either. As a result, All Your Happy Life is a lightswitch that keeps awkwardly flickering, intentionally making the mise-en-scène as unsettling as possible.

Fans of garage rock will be familiar with the fuzzed-out results, at its best highlighting the band’s trademark guitar distortion, although at times muffling Grote’s vocals slightly. But their sound has evolved considerably.

Perhaps what’s most striking about Birding is how cohesive it is for a debut, every swell is intentional and carefully placed without ever feeling clinical. There’s warmth and space while including all the finely crafted minutia needed to give songs genuine depth and the band have resisted the urge to overcomplicate things.

MØ’s debut LP is an exquisite collection of synthpop, dance and gushing, heartfelt emotions.

An experience that's exhilarating, frenetic and gratifying.

In excelling at hoping to convey music--or in this case, a suite--with a deliberate emotional arc, Pearce has re-established himself as an auteur to be reckoned with, delivering one of the very best albums of the year in the process.

EYEYE feels like a piece of magician’s silk that just keeps going and going, but it’s still the same piece of silk. Unlike Wounded Rhymes, this is not an album to put on at a party, but if you’re going through any kind of heartbreak, plug yourself into this immersive and impressive album and let it all out.

Ultimately, with Guitar, DeMarco is working against the friction of his inescapable audience expectations to declare where he stands now: wiser and more intent, although still victim to tedium.

Its gentle musical cacophony is tipped over into truly scary territory by the lyrics of sole constant member David Thomas--all delivered in murderous mumbles and frustrated, elongated moans--transforming Lady From Shanghai from a run of the mill quirky rock album into a thrillingly worrying piece of art.

Rex’s true feelings have been told marvellously within this sonic journal. Through his own unique artistry, Rex has created an album that is wonderfully creative. This third album cements his status as a nascent national treasure.

It’s a dramatic stretch on life’s road map, on which Local Natives have captured their true spirit once again.

It shouldn’t all work together, but the record has a beautifully cohesive groove, the many disparate parts seamlessly fitting together in typical Rostam fashion.

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.

It’s playful, dark, and produced well enough to settle the most pedantic of audiophiles. It’s clear, however, that putting meaning to Matmos’ sounds here only rehashes tired ideas of neotribalism and criticisms of late-capitalism.

Groove Denied is lesser than Sparkle Hard, and greater. Not so happy, yet much happier.

That the new stuff doesn’t make you pine for the comforting certainties of early solo classics à la ‘Naked as We Came’ at all is a sign of just what a successful evolution Ghost on Ghost is.

Cold Moon is an winter morning. Not a dark, brittle winter morning, but a happily futile winter Sunday morning, where the a few snatched hours of watercolor sunlight feel all the more precious for their scarcity.

The sense of place that Yumi Zouma finally seems to have found on Willowbank brings an album that’s bristling with energy, albeit one that does feel overstuffed. And yet, even in the face of that, it’s hard not to be swept away by Willowbank.

Stylistically it continues the sounds explored on Cranekiss, perfectly fusing moody dreampop with massive pop choruses, although the monochrome of her earlier material still lurks darkly during proceedings, she splatters the pallet with sprightly moments of pop sensibility in a campy pop gothic stew.

Her earnestness makes for both difficult and comforting listening, as she vocalises some fairly morbid tales while offering comradeship through the strife.

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.

While it’s a rich topic [unhealthy romantic relationships] to explore in song, a sense of repetitiveness does ultimately set in as Teitelbaum circles around the same themes of codependency and falling in love with questionable men against one’s own better judgement. .... When Teitelbaum looks elsewhere for subject matter, some of her strongest songwriting comes through.

These are not songs which will not change the world, and they will probably never be a huge band--but songs as beautiful and honest as these will always be huge for some people.

Edge of Everything is not for the faint of heart: it’s non-conformist and confrontational. Being industrial techno there’ll be a propensity to dismiss this as the sound of pots and pans falling down a steel staircase, but delve beyond the layers of harshness simply reveals one of the best techno albums of 2019.

It’s impossible to listen to Sticky Wickets without amusement, but on occasion the procession of guests and parade of pastiches threaten to encroach into “novelty” territory.

While some of the artists brought onto the project feel more tactical than functional, when Ora is placed in the spotlight she tends to deliver.

It scrambles the brain, leaves the heart feeling empty, but compels the body to move. Woof scratches that primal itch. It's the sound of a society unraveling, and Fat Dog has captured it.

Pure baroque 'n' roll goodness.

The record works perfectly as a coda to what sounded like an unusually comfortable period in Spencer’s life. It’s not quite as unadorned, not quite as intimate, as Julia--opener “The Fog” has its title represented by jarring clouds of synths which break through the eight note motif that underpins the entire song--but you can still tell that all fifteen of Piano Man Spencer’s songs came from the same place.

Dean Wareham is an album that sees both of its key players growing in stature as it progresses; I could take or leave the first half, but the second is a delight.

Frankly, a rap space opera shouldn't work this well, and it's a testament to the trio's vision that it does, even if Splendor & Misery can be a pretty turbulent voyage.

Juice B Crypts is an uncompromised, multi-faceted assault course for the brain, but one you won’t regret taking.

Despite the writing on several songs being undercooked, coupled with production that’s overbaked, Yours Dreamily has its charms, but the onus is on the listener to find them and given the clutter in the styles and songs here, that’s not an easy thing to do.

There's evolution with purpose in every fibre of 1989, and far from jettisoning her integrity in this drastic lunge, she's proved in her bold, risky decision that she's got courage in her convictions to pull it off and faith in her fans to accept the new direction.

This is an album of hard-staring shoegaze, of richness and discomfort mixed, drawing you into a strange and beautiful otherworld, and ends up being compelling in the luminescent moonlit beauty that emerges from the introspective sound.

The complexity in the arrangements of some of the harmonies on this record show them off individually and their obvious synergy as sisters.

Lung Bread For Daddy’s inauspicious genesis plunged Beth Jeans Houghton deep into an artistic quagmire, yet she has escaped with another outstanding record.

Going from strength to strength, the road that The Best of Luck Club brings will undoubtedly be filled with Lahey's sounds making people move, proof that she is indeed doing it right.

For all the thrills that Pixx’s precocious ambition offers on Small Mercies, it’s Hannah Rodgers’ vulnerability and restless search for comfort within herself that drives it.

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.

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.

You Still Here, Ho? offers a snapshot circa 2022, reminding us that, at least when it comes to the competitive side of human nature and the fallouts of capitalism, the 2020s may not be that different from the 2010s, 2000s, 1990s, and so on. Different trappings, same dynamic.

From the folk twang of “First Time” to the torrential clapping on “Anything But,” this is a Hozier album to the hilt: considered, earnest, and moving.

On Abomination there’s a more cohesive sense of vulnerability even contemplation that the attention-seeking initial EP songs clamoured for so brazenly.

It is crisply clear and gritty, with a lovely bout of emo-tinged lyricism. It is surely to be considered the strongest body of work of their career, only to be outdone with whatever may come next. Smitten is the sound of a band infatuated with their art, ready for the future, and excited to be a part of it.

Location Lost is what I imagine floating endlessly through space feels like, rotating as the natural force of casting yourself away with the intention of relinquishing all grounding takes hold as reverb disappears into the unknown horizon. The buffering and battering of space debris through the majesty, akin to the twists and turns each track takes, add to the momentum.

Holy Fire is Foals’ masterpiece because it ties in the rhythmic nature of their debut, the soul of the second album, producing finally the rhythmic soul of its own.

We are treated to a collection of refreshingly care-free and up-tempo punk; well-crafted and not at all pretentious.

It’s an uneven soundtrack to some early morning hotel lobby fever dream where the house-band drown in tight-collared Paul Smith suits and over-wrought orchestral-pop mimicry.

It’s a record with a few winners, a few losers and some fillers. However, it is by no means a poor record. There’s plenty here that most modern electro artists would die to produce, but it’s a shame that there’s just so much here that falls far short of the work Dear has done in the past.

They are definitely a marketable band (it’s no wonder Katy Perry ripped them off) and Lost Time is Tacocat’s biggest accomplishment to date--27 minutes of bubblegum pop that doesn’t lose its taste.

It’s fun, it’s weird, and like nothing you’ve ever really heard before.

The band have always been wonderfully, discordantly rowdy, and this genre of guitar-driven country-park encapsulates their chaos perfectly. The Georgia band fully embrace their roots on their ninth studio offering, a delightful sheen of old-school Americana coating the album.

The album was not created lightly, and by no means deserves to be skimmed, but there’s a diversity and thirst within this album that stands to keep Early Riser remembered for some time, and will no doubt lead McFerrin to achieve the same.

Mercer has allowed his lyrics to become more expansive and less cohesive. For this reason, they need room to resonate, to sink in.

It’s a special place, in which she has the peace and comfort to continue to snatch all those thoughts and feelings out of her head, and distil them into her signature, singular poetic epiphanies. Just like those that give Close It Quietly the huge depth that it has, and mark it as an indie pop album with a substantial difference.

Fine Line is a solid, playful pop album, but that matters less than its status as a source of uncomplicated comfort and affirmation. When everything feels hopeless, pop music feels frivolous, but there’s joy in frivolity, and deep meaning in joy.

Once again, they’ve treated genre boundaries with genuine disdain on Paperback Ghosts, and the result is a reassuringly eclectic collection of songs - Feck is one of Britain’s true originals.

Crooked Calypso never sounds outdated or like a couple of crooners growing old, but it certainly sounds graceful.

Apocalipstick is fast, furious and, most importantly, fun, making it the first truly badass album of 2017.

Some will see it as cathartic and welcome, whereas others may just be disconnected by the process. This seemingly brutal separation of the wheat from the chaff won't necessarily sit comfortably with all listeners, but I guess that’s exactly the point.

The album captures the band at their most independent, revelling in high-energy performances while embracing a broad eclecticism.

There are moments that remind us that Watson can still work a great melody, but Love Songs For Robots is by no means contains his best work.

On Wonderful, Glorious, Mark Everett not only has the songs but also a band capable of delivering the sort of breadth and depth of response he needs to keep the Eels vehicle moving onwards and upwards.

In Darling Artihmetic Conor O'Brien has put together his best album under the Villagers moniker.

This quaint duo has created a bold and unapologetic record that stands out as the best of its kind for quite some time.

It’s an album that scores highly on philosophy and intellectual curiosity, providing a welcome moment of relief from the frenzy of modern life.

By its end, Thrice Woven not only serves as one of this year’s most promising metal releases, but it also stands as something purely monolithic and even transcendental--a collection of songs, showcasing a band’s evolution that leaves you in full levitation, locked in paralysis, and at a moment’s notice, you dissipate completely wondering how you made it home.

Whether The Early Years will turn out to be a document of Girl Band’s development at a particular time like France 98 appears to have been (the title certainly hints at it), or whether we can expect the album to expand on this particular minimalist palette remains to be seen. Either way, it’s an astonishing starting point.

The addition of older tracks onto Home can constrain Spektor’s artistic growth more generally, like on “SugarMan” – which stretches food metaphors to their absolute limit and lacks the staying power of Spektor’s best tracks. However, at their best, the songs of Home feel akin to a warm hug on a cold day.

Amok might not be easy--why should it be?--but it’s never anything less than interesting, an accolade that can rarely be applied to artists this far into their career.

As an elegy to Hayes, Era is a beautifully crafted tribute to their friend, but it’s also a statement of intent, which is to keep moving and create music that mixes the ups with the downs, euphoria with despondency, in a voice that is their own.

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.

There is a lot to appreciate here: Gnod have proven themselves adept in new areas, at carefully crafting tension and unease that hovers on the precipice of climax, in what's the heaviest record of the year so far.

While Hang doesn’t explore much new ground, that’s never really been on Foxygen's agenda. It's a great return all the same.

Hej! marks an evolution for felicita and, by extension, PC Music. It is a big twist away from tongue in cheek nature for which they are at times dismissed.

Fans will be pleased to hear nothing has changed. Stepping inside The Hope List feels like setting foot on a wide open field, where clouds mar the sunlight, but a warmth still radiates all around. A gentle wind flurries, blowing all around while the horizon feels endless.

Megabear is something truly special—not only an album of moving songwriting and carefully considered craftsmanship, but an album that each listener can make their own in whatever way they see fit.

Alongside a natural tendency to sustain tensions and avoid convenient certainties – what the poet Keats called negative capability – is a sophisticated pop flair. With I Get Into Trouble, Zietsch emerges as one of the more eloquent singer-songwriters of her generation.

On Found Heaven, the wreckage of love overstays its welcome; sadly, profundity gives in to frustrating familiarity.

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

Is it worth the time, passion and investment of the listener? To those unfamiliar with XCX, or who only know her in passing, the answer is irrevocably yes; for others, it depends upon the value they place on a well-crafted retrospective.

Jumping the Shark, with its clear central premise and limited musical palate, is inherently niche, but if you find yourself intrigued by his storytelling Cameron won’t need any gimmicks to keep you invested.

The Australian duo's first full-length feels whole and complete, and with a distinctive sound.

Though its exploration sometimes lacks cohesion, it succeeds in pushing the group’s sound to levels of experimentation.