It all results in a moreish stew of hazy, swooning R&B that’s practically impossible to resist. Welcome to the party. Grab a drink and let’s watch the world go by.

Perceive Its Beauty, Acknowledge Its Grace isn’t an easy sell at a time thoroughly infested with quick thrills and instant gratification. Give it time to bloom, however, and these tracks are infused with plenty of the qualities referred to in the album’s title.

Boy is intense, intrusive, brutally honest, compelling and mature if not ironically titled; it certainly bears nothing in common with infancy.

The band started with a really strong debut album, but Midnight Manor somehow takes this to new heights. You’ll hear the Stones, you’ll hear Lou Reed, you’ll even hear a bit of Alice Cooper in there - and you’ll come away having connected with a new, intensely fulfilling sense of cool.

Isbell’s ninth LP is a cautious refinement rather than a reinvention for the Americana icon – and as he explores a familiar set of themes, the lyrics can sometimes feel as though they could have been directly pulled from the cutting room floor of previous studio sessions.

That such revelations can be borne out of isolation should be a comfort to us all right now, and Cenzias is a record expansive enough to open up even the smallest rooms.

Profound Mysteries doesn’t quite have the timelessness of Melody AM, but it certainly lives up to Röyksopp’s reputation as a duo that has perfected the art of dishing out electronic hugs.

With most tracks comprising largely of delicate vocals and the mellow strumming of guitar, the album does not stray far from Paul’s distinct, dulcet sound. However, despite the sound not differing largely from her debut, each track on At The Party... presents a distinct purpose, yet when considered as an album as a whole each track seamlessly melts into one.

Horsegirl’s songwriting isn’t distinct enough to imply any hidden tension though, and back to back sweetness becomes a little sickly. It’s no surprise that the best songs here are the meaner ones.

Rage is, by turns, ridiculous, overly-serious, and self-satisfying. It’s also one helluva EDM record and an intelligent send-up of an otherwise difficult-to-work-with (and work in) music genre.

Pang is a remarkable debut album assured of its legitimacy and brilliance, one that should be celebrated for its shimmering beauty and the success of its authorial intent.

Shattered is a deeply comfortable and comforting thirty minutes of expertly curated rock-and-soul.

Godspeed continue to perform with a bold and alluring command and unlike their peers, a majority of their output lands on a much wider scale.

The sounds are pure alchemy and result is pure magic. The only complaint is the length--too short at just under a half hour.

Despite the odd misstep, it deserves to be lauded as the band’s finest hour as well as a genuinely bold adventure into the cosmos of heavy rock.

It could easily have fallen apart under the weight of the assembled egos, its car crash of dramatic themes or even just been doomed by the epic centrepiece of the album--the10-minute "Faustus"--but it doesn’t. The album works. And I daresay, it’s a damn sight more successful take on life, war, death and re-birth than Einsturzende Neubauten’s First World War-inspired album Lament.

Here, we observe Celeste widening her scope by lessening it, capturing new forms of light as a nascent force – one who has quickly catapulted her name into the stratosphere of what it takes to rebrand and revolutionize the club.

As a collection of tracks Holiday descends into a humid nostalgic reflection, yet each individual song is its own small pocket of joy.

Sparks’ avant-garde tradition is freshly lacquered on A Steady Drip, Drip, Drip, a track record injected with further potency during dystopic times. Jaunty melodies juxtapose with typical wryly wrought themes, levity undercut with social critique - the brothers’ inimitable style at its finest on an album that represents one of their most prescient and much needed.

On Some Kind Of Peace, Arnalds has once again crafted an genre-defining album that serves as a much needed moment of reflection.

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.

Rashad’s gotten himself straight, and as a result he’s returned triumphantly from his 5-year absence with his best album yet.

Once again, the band finds healing and beauty in their own chaotic vortex, and once again they invite everyone listening to do the same, joining them on their most exploratory and cathartic ride yet.

With Tired Of Liberty, The Lounge Society have mastered the art of making music that conveys a message, and done so with incredible prowess.

It’s more than a taster but leaves plenty of room for development in the future, maybe experimenting with different instrumentation and letting the songs stretch out and breathe beyond their sub three minute durations. Until then, let Bubblegum ever so sweetly tear you apart.

Taking place in a world that requires you to understand the minutiae and dichotomy of love – where heroes and villains coexist – without this prerequisite knowledge, by the end of the flickering film, it may feel like a one-trick pony. However, if you've felt the cold light of day on you after your own divine tussle with Cupid, then this album will gently offer aid.

The result is a sequence that sounds more expansive and sublimely mapped, yet perhaps less combustive, less raggedly urgent. I.e., Monolith is triumphant on its own terms.