While lacking the convention-breaching identity of Currents, Tame Impala commits to a formula that will undoubtedly guarantee heavy rotation – an album sporting plenty of standouts and very little filler.

Through Water is an album that was made to move you – physically and emotionally – and most importantly, to make you feel. Water as a substance is intrinsic to our very being, and through Låpsley’s intention, is complex enough to touch us all.

There’s a rough finesse to each track, one which is clearly purposeful – the production and instrumentation is strident yet incisive. It feels churlish to critique such a lively, soul-cleansing burst of energy, especially since the album is filled with hints of killer choruses trapped just beneath the surface and itching to break through.

Sad Cities has proved that it can hold its own, and even allows the long-time follower to dwell in times past.

Rose is at her most confident and relaxed, navigating country-and-pop-inflected hooks while addressing a range of perennial themes, including love, uncertainty, and the need for self-care in a world gone mad.

It doesn’t give away much more of the bigger picture, and it’s not quite clear yet how it will interact with it, but daine builds new dimensions with every move.

The stories she unveils here can get dull and repetitive – as they are designed to be relatable to as wide an audience as possible – but the way she tells them is, more often than not, captivating enough to sit through the 3-minute runtime.

Why does “High Fashion”’s bassline sound so intoxicating and disjointed? Why does “Headphones On” possess trip-hop stems that are strangely symbolic of the destructive gallows? These interludes, if executed better, might’ve fulfilled and encouraged the listeners’ curiosity such as mine over Rae’s intriguing soundscapes.

Snooper’s vision of egg punk is more hygienic; the full experience is still reserved for the stage. They’ve fantastically magnified a glimpse of that for larger crowds, but in the studio, Snooper aren’t as wild as we thought they were.

Nothing Was the Same is different because Drake has stopped worrying so much about who he’s become and figured out who he is.

Miss_Anthrop0cene is great. And much of what makes it great are the unavoidable, personal obsessions that Boucher has always carried with her: science fiction, nerd culture, Eastern scales, loop-pedal musicality, and an uncool love for the kind of bass you'd expect to be blasting out at Burning Man.

Tip of the Sphere tackles generally what we’d expect it to--but with no disappointment, McCombs functions as a fail-safe narrator for our time. Within the LP’s musings, we as listeners look to him as he maintains a sense of worldliness and top-tier deftness as a songwriter and within those wonders and expectations, he invites us along as we get the chance to engage with his particular, introspective vision.

Closer to Grey is the coldest, shiniest, most polished collection of songs released under the Chromatics banner. It’s chillier, darker and more sinister than anything else they’ve ever put out.

Changes in timbre aside, those expecting a progression or departure in sound from the last two Mac releases will find them subtle, if present at all. But frankly, as with its sensitive and charismatic creator, it’s hard not to like This Old Dog from the start.

This is an album of sometimes brutal beauty; a risk taken and richly rewarded through a work suggestive of fragility, yet simultaneously attesting to defiance rather than any maudlin self-pity.

Prisoner is an album filled with Adams reconciling his doubts and fears about life and love with his faith in music and the power of song. And ultimately--thankfully--music wins out over heartbreak in the end.

The core components of their sound have remained intact, and it's only the delivery--which has naturally slowed down in pace--that has changed.

First Two Pages of Frankenstein is yet another dose to remind you why – and how – the band have managed to carve their own special place out in the cultural landscape.

With her fourth studio record, Lola Young has created a tapestry of conflicting narratives delicately intertwined.

Nothing about Deep States feels authentically trippy, authentically dark or authentically weird. Near-on every element feels both forced and misguided, be it the performances, songwriting or the production. If in desperate need, just relisten to that Squid album instead.

Algiers don’t feel ahead of the curve, they feel like they are racing on a different track. When combined with their expansive range of collaborators, that willingness to go their own way makes for a powerful new addition to their catalogue with Shook.

It’s the product of a band that’s clearly thinking on their feet, engaging with the conflicting styles of those around them and assimilating new behaviors without sacrificing their own, changing with the world around them to create something refreshingly distinct and beautifully engaging.

Less thematic or cohesive than other records, Smote Reverser is, quite deliberately, a record that sounds like an endless stream-of-consciousness, with no underlying nucleus that pulls it all together. Any of these tracks, each so distinct from the others, could potentially hold the charm of the record.

There’s no sense of resolution by the end of the record. Its characters could be equally pitiful as they are decent. Still, Andy Shauf’s talent for playing god to these little dioramas is as consistent as ever.

Throughout, the unifying characteristic is the richness and warmth of the sound, a million miles from the lo-fi of old; this is the prettiest Owen record to date, and there’s no shortage of strong contenders for that particular title.

Kinder Versions is one of those precious pieces of art that is brand new but feels like it was always here, dragged from the beginnings of the world and rooted in elemental truth.

Unfortunately, for an album that’s main theme is duplicity, it can’t help but feel a little one-dimensional (lyrically at least). ... However, Wasner’s sculpting of emotive music through sound and texture rather than key is special, and Head of Roses is by far her most successful rendering of it.

Everything Everything have their cake and they’re eating it too--Arc proves that they can keep their zany shade of indie and still be taken very seriously.