It’s an album of such focus and dedication to its oddness and brilliance that you can tell just how much work has been put in.

If this sounds heavy then the album’s crowning achievement is that it often doesn’t feel that way, buoyed by percussive production from Black Milk, Gold Panda, Frank Leone and others, and Mike’s dark humour.

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.

With Plastic Hearts, comes a wonderful album about life as a fiercely independent woman. Cyrus has found the perfect balance of pushing her own musical boundaries whilst proving she’s one of the strongest and bravest names in the constant celebrity whirlwind.

That! Feels Good! isn’t as lyrically vibrant or extraordinary as What’s Your Pleasure? but holds its own with slinky grooves and a lane where Ware feels most comfortable.

When it works (and that's most of the time), FLOTUS proves the wisdom of risk-taking over crowd-pleasing complacency.

Shows Hus display his greatest quality - his music. Straightening his ‘darling of UK rap’ crown, it is an album that experiments with a variety of sounds and sonic styles, in a more dynamic way than previous offerings.

Night Life is a dark synth album from a band turning away from the big expansive sounds of the past to explore both the desolation and pleasures when light turns to dark, and their best album since Skying.

This ability to traverse a broad gamut of styles and emotions betrays a scope lacking on Before We Forgot How To Dream, with the artist evolving to incongruously couple shimmering charm with a fatalistic sense of reality. The interplay of frayed confessional tenacity with pristine production polish reinforces this ambiguity, a tension that secures this as a confident follow-up to an acclaimed 2015 breakthrough.

Chockful of jazz that embraces you in a familiar feeling, Source is akin to an old friend you may not see for a while, but whenever you do, the world feels that little bit brighter and it’s as if no time has passed at all.

The lyrics are tighter, more poetic and speak volumes of a band that have something quite specific to express.

A series of vulnerable, tender numbers that highlight how talented a songwriter White truly is--a trait that gets lost amidst the critical commotion surrounding his increasingly eccentric creative pursuits.

The album’s sonic homogeneity lends it an air of sameness at first blush, but the details burrow their way out on subsequent listens; the guitar work, in particular, offers fleeting doses of delightfully understated melodicism to counterpoint the slow industrial grind beneath.

Not to Disappear is made as carefully and beautifully as you would expect--balancing the acts of remaining true and pushing forward. It does this with an air of self-assured calm and the clarity that a few extra years of being alive bring.

Most albums would capsize under weight of a colossus like “Defeat”, a seamless combination of disembodied, sweet yet wounded underwater harmonies, drone-fueled introspection and outbreaks of mellow yet exuberant rhythmic mantras (which echo the Grateful Dead at their most joyously lively) that doesn’t waste a second despite its marathon 22-minute duration. However, the rest of Isn’t It Now? lives up to the outsized expectations created by its centrepiece.

Intoxicating soundscapes and irresistible hooks have long catapulted Leff to the top of the pop sphere. All 4 Nothing not only reaffirms this notion, it’s perfect proof that there is so much more to come; a glimpse into the depths of Lauv’s psyche and unlimited creative potential.

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.

The consistent rapport between Prekop, Prewitt and McEntire is more than enough to propel the Sea and Cake steady on their course.

There's a distinct and purposeful artifice surrounding New Last Name that lends it enough intrigue and depth while still being able to simply say, "See, we can do this too." And you know what? They can!

Singles “POiiSON” and “SEiiZURE” close out HiiDE on an undeniable high; a reminder that whilse BABii’s genreless electro-dance-pop hybrid may echo similarly macabre and mysterious predecessors, her high-concept, DIY approach reveals a strength of vision that’s all her own.

Fourteen years have passed since they arose, and while so much has changed in the world, Art Brut are a welcome constant. Wham! Bang! Pow! Art Brut are back, and better than ever!

Electric Balloon sees Ava Luna staying the course in producing music that is as heady, adventurous and intelligent as that of their debut, if not more so.

Riff’s lyricism, rightfully lionized for its eccentricity and boundary pushing--Riff Raff, along with rappers like Heems and Kool A.D., extend the idea of rapping as abstract expressionists did painting--is not so often hailed for its dexterity, which Neon Icon demonstrates in its barbed hooks, lackadaisical lopes, professional wrestler entering the ring peacocking.

The album slowly loses its sanity: Edging over that transgressive line, like all good punk bands do.

An album promising to be, with a sly wink, True Entertainment, turns out to be all that and way, way more.

Never has Kesha's music felt this inspiringly rich. It has all the potential of once again making her a staple on the music scene, and this time even beyond pop.

Very often Hippo Lite feels like wandering into Cate Le Bon and Tim Presley’s tossed off living room recording session. However, the pair have taught us the valuable lesson that weirdness needn’t be conjured under pretense from far out places while the mundanity of real life can prove far more potent.

Love Hallucination ultimately feels like an artist riding on intuition.