Ghosts V: Together offers us the tranquillity that we’ve been searching for during the quiescence of being on lockdown, and the ability to truly switch off for an hour, letting ourselves be guided by their eerily calm production whilst we pretend that the world isn’t actually going up in metaphorical flames before our eyes.

As a songwriter and a storyteller, she’s simply never recorded anything quite like it. After so long in the game, it’s miraculous to hear her take such a fresh approach to her sound.

On Gold Panda‘s sophomore full length, moments of predictability are rare.

After The Great Storm is an emphatic record, conjuring up moments of hope and reassurance for difficult times, but also unafraid to reveal flashes of vulnerability and insecurity, all conveyed through an unfiltered and organic new style for Brun.

The economic arrangements make sure that every note counts.

Reflecting Walton and Hollingworth’s growth and maturation over a period of approximately two years, it is a creative and infectious record, which after repeat listens, moves from being intriguing to simply irresistible.

If destruction is more your appetite, then Ghosts VI: Locusts provides an aural embodiment of the uncertainty and discourse.

When you hear it, you can tell that these songs were bursting to get out of Ware; that she’s delivered them with such nuance and intelligence lends considerable credence to the idea that her more devoted followers have proposed ever since Devotion. She is, by a distance, Britain’s most underrated pop star.

One of the best albums of the year so far.

Destroyer’s new album, ken, is Bejar’s best work since his masterpiece.

This is Parker's strongest bunch of songs yet.

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

Depression Cherry is a beautiful record about darker times being a point in a journey, not the final destination. It shows its creators have a level of wisdom beyond their years.

Musically, Dream River sticks calmly to understated Americana, generally managing to pull off Lambchop’s neat one-inch punch trick--seemingly effortless and gentle, only to echo with far more drama and beautifully powerful resonance.

Sudan radiates confidence on Athena, uniting distinct musical elements as if they belonged together all along. It’s an album that sounds like nothing else.

Finn has created a great album here, horn-drenched and hazy in its instrumentation, precise, prescient and poetic in its words.

Brilliantly produced, thematically solid, prescient, insightful and witty: it tackles with aplomb the paradoxical themes of isolation and overconnectivity, anxiety and the seeming proximity of death.

The album’s great triumph--The Antlers’ great triumph--is the intelligence with which Silberman’s masterful lyricism is matched to its backdrops.

Some tracks sound like Elvis ballads drowned out by faulty styluses and retro sound systems. Others are breathy song-cycles of gospel folk. For all the rich breeze and slinking Tarantino guitars in "Hope To Die", the track more resembles an ‘80s Mazzy Star-era shoegaze piece for the country purists to languish on. With Pony, Orville Peck has put himself in the boxing ring for his own ’68 Comeback Special.

We can certainly add this gorgeous new album to the list of things that we take warmly to our hearts during these trouble times to help us make some brief sense out of it all.

Ultimately, Delta Machine is a record full of terrific moments, reminding you of why you fell in love with Depeche Mode in the first place.

A stunning release, Likewise is Quinlan’s proof that, either on her own or with her band, hers is a voice not likely to get lost in the crowd.

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

Her stories are made believable by the authenticity of Bentham’s real-life everyday nothings that season each song and open our minds and hearts to the most primal feelings we encounter and the most insignificant events that take place in our lives.

The fact that GLUE isn’t just another album in Boston Manor’s discography rings out. It's a portrayal of moral depravity, a reflection of modern society and a call to arms for change. A bold and brazen album that will joyously haunt you.

A futuristic perspective on post-punk and rock and roll. Clever enough to implant electronic hooks into your brain, subconsciously. Dumb enough to smash a guitar into the drum kit, just for kicks. These guys have got it all.

Sometimes all you need is an escape; a world of fun to jump into when you need a little pick me up. ... With Love in the 4th Dimension, they’ve capitalised on that feeling and make a truly stonking debut.

Close to the Glass is a record bookended with perfectly executed experiments, so gentle on the ears. Beautiful and perfect, they make the whole record seem round, and right.