Over time, it's proved itself to be dark, intelligent and one of the most imaginative albums of the year so far, but whether it’s as enduring as its predecessor, only time will tell.

“The Airport” and “Leaving the House” add piano to the partnership of Graham’s voice and MacFarlane’s guitar playing (he switches from a clean and quiet electric on tracks one to five, to an acoustic on six to eight), and the color it brings to both makes one wonder what it might have sounded like had it been included on the other songs as well. On the other hand, it’s a small revelation to discover how whole and affecting songs like “I Could Give You All That You Don’t Want” and “Drown So I Can Watch” can be with a few circulating quietly strummed chords and Graham’s austere and ecstatic declamations.

By the end of some heavy listening, you understand that they’ve found something more beautiful still, all the more so because it is hard won, but just as they’ve had to work to find it, so must we.

All Things Under Heaven isn't perfect: after a startlingly strong first half, the quality of the material drops. As it does, it becomes increasingly difficult not to notice just how semi-endlessly long and repetitive some of these tracks are.

Not everything that he turns his hand to here comes off, but when it does, the results are characteristically spectacular, and do more than enough to preserve St Germain’s reputation as an electronic musician of rare complexity--one who’s made a trademark of pulling off convoluted ideas with crispness and flair.

Removed from the expansive instrument-led sounds of previous records Ganglion Reef and Golem, 1000 Days immerses inwards. Strident stadium rock collides with characteristic psychedelia with a natural euphoria.

If this it to be M.I.A.’s final release, it’s a fittingly confrontational, vibrant and invigorating piece of work.

Though it needn't define them, with Until The Tide Creeps In Penelope Isles have built a strong foundation on familial dynamics and the criss-crossing of sibling perspectives with elegant and catchy songwriting, springboarding them in to the many sets of arms ready to welcome them.

Drifters/Love Is The Devil isn’t always an unqualified success, but more often than not it displays Dirty Beaches as a project increasingly adept at the scattershot of styles, imprinted with Hungtai’s own recognisable mark.

KiCk I is a consistently enjoyable, so the fact it still feels like something of an anti-climax is testament only to Arca’s history of braveness and originality.

Bring Me The Horizon is a band that you can rely on for a constantly evolving output and whilst, POST HUMAN: SURVIVAL HORROR doesn’t exactly diverge away from what the band were developing on last year’s amo, it does capture the bewildering phenomenon that is living through a worldwide pandemic. It is as fun as it is bleak.

It’s a shame then that much of Wait ’til Night lacks the depth of narrative that made the imposing tales of urban romance on Playin’ Me so engrossing.... There’s still much to embrace here though.

Bleeding between the nebulous and formulaic, King's Mouth simultaneously presents the band at their most obscure and lucid; opposing absolutes that are wrought with the band’s ineffable style. This incongruity does not, however, dent the album’s stronger moments, which can be considered the Lips’ finest material in several years.

This is a seductive and beguiling record.

Pay no attention to the lyrics (pretend you’re foreign or something), concentrate on the music, and you might just enjoy yourself after all.

It’s a considered, thoughtfully constructed record that adheres to a stylish, seductive aesthetic.

His most sincere and optimistic record so far.

On first time listen, Star Wars feels neither utterly victorious nor rushed, vapid or misjudged. Whilst moments of majesty and bona fide alt-rock wizardry snake in and out of the occasionally throwaway, the overriding feeling here is one of huge relief and pleasant surprise.

At worst, Sexwitch marks a fascinating detour in an already accomplished career. At best, it’s a creatively adventurous standalone release. In actuality, it likely falls somewhere in the middle.

Quarters is a reference to Berlin and a statement of intent then, and like the city Seams is likely to be on plenty of cool-hunters’ lists from now on.

You could argue that Dark Red is a bit samey in places, but that's kind of the point.

This is difficult, obstinate music that grows in potency with every listen--it should just come with some kind of health warning.

A celebration and a middle finger as Banoffee reclaims her strength across tracks driven by wonky pop sensibilities and a drop of infectious playfulness.

It is a powerful and dark narrative that fits the explosive attitude of the Big Ups and makes this record relevant on so many different levels.

E.MO.TION has all the tenets of a successful pop record, but feels more cultivated than previous work.

Her most polished record to date, in every sense of the word.

Much like their self-titled EP, ...Does It Again has ear-worm songwriting paired with fuzzed out production, making for an overall engaging, if one-track, listen.

Regions of Light and Sound of God is as succinct as he’s ever been on record, and while it doesn’t exactly live up to its grandiose title, it’s a fascinating musical backroad to find yourself stranded in.