While those individual songs are great, they generate the urge to listen to the whole record in its entirety which, in the end, may not be as healthy and carefree as the title and arrangements would have us believe.

'We Make Pop Music’ adds another to their storied catalogue of press-aware music about music and similarly sounds like the band as they stand in a nutshell. Then there’s the second disc of B-sides, the original versions of the first two singles, more reined-in versions of songs from It’s A Bit Complicated left over from an aborted session with Pulp‘s Russell Senior, covers (the Beatles, the Cure, We Are Scientists) and assorted offcuts, none of which are essential but which add more layers to Argos’ wracked character.

Sometimes weighty and serious, sometimes dissolute and light, Grimes’ interaction with the piano on The Clearing is the sound of a musician who knows how to extract every emotion and feeling from what they are playing.

It’s one that will thrill fans of inventive, guitar-driven alternative rock.

Like the best of Amos’ work over the past 20 years, what makes Native Invader exceptional is its complexity: songs are laid out like puzzles, ready for the subjectivity of the listener, with no obvious interpretations.

The results are expectedly bonkers, with some of Ling’s tales ushered into songs and others scored by improvisations, the collection bound by a deeply English eccentricity and a shared love of pop music's spikier edges.

Young Narrator in the Breakers isn’t shackled with deference or reverence. It balances musical intelligence with elegance, orchestrated chamber music with disco and in doing so shows a band in possession of not only a brilliant record collection, but the imagination to transcend it.

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.

Like clear ancestral forefathers Faith, Hex Enduction Hour or The Downward Spiral, this is best enjoyed in small doses and every so often. It’s too good at what it does to be listened to daily. Handle with care and approach with caution.

Serfs Up! is almost certainly their most accessible, most coherent collection to date.

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.

It’s a journey through their journey, and of influences and styles we’ve all known and loved. But it has all the joy of something completely new, pulled together at the seams lovingly and beautifully into a patchwork that, at first, may feel like clash or confusion but in time feels full of strength.

Banks has a universal appeal that’ll see her soar to the tops of charts, into high-profile festival spots, and slide into awards season like she’s covered in butter.

This is perhaps the most hypnotic GOAT has ever sounded, once again reinventing themselves, delivering an album that’s not as musically challenging, for willing ears, but it is immensely rewarding, a perfect soundtrack for losing yourself in the wilderness of sound.

At a time of uncharted fear and oppression that finds the world holding its breath as to what happens next, Mia Gargaret sounds like a vital exhalation. It may be There's Always Glimmer’s quiet sibling, but it still has plenty to say.

Overall, Paradise is another thrilling entry into White Lung’s catalogue that proves the band still has plenty of exciting new ground to crush beneath their heel.

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

While Margolin still leads with a raggedy blend of indignation and yearning, she also seems more resolved in facing long-standing grief and/or lingering PTSD. There’s fury here, floods of it, but also sorrow.

Erupting out of the soil quicker than daffodils in spring, Sigrid’s growth is nothing short of remarkable on How To Let Go.

Ugly Season confirms Hadreas’s commitment to discovery and resistance to reiteration.

Like My Bloody Valentine with m b v, they’ve listened and they’ve learnt and they’ve adapted their sound for a new generation without losing what made them names in the first place. It’s a difficult tightrope to walk, sure, but Slowdive have walked it deftly and returned with an album that doesn’t disappoint.

Its mood is all over the place, but that suits it.

What emerges from Cinema is an image of a musician who remained resistant to such categorisations to the end: experimental, curious and explorative, Czukay clearly didn't want to master just one style of music. He preferred to have a go at them all. Even when the results are messy (some of the light-hearted late 80's material hasn't dated well), Cinema proves the wisdom of this open-eared approach.

This is NIN revitalised with Reznor’s thirst for chaos truly quenched.

It's a potent start, but Allbarone gets better, deeper, more engaging and – crucially – stranger with each track, with Dury’s half-muttered speak-song voice mutating into more and more enticingly contorted shapes with each successive track.

One of Grant’s richest & most satisfying sounding albums thus far.

On Radical Romantics, Dreijer wears their heart on their sleeve and delivers their stories of love and lust with classic Fever Ray conviction.

Where previously her voice could feel hampered by heavy instrumentation, Charm’s arrangements carve just enough space for it to flourish, allowing her words to speak for themselves behind refined, never overbearing, production.