It’s a work that’s in a constant state of flux, the flow giving and yielding just like our emotions. A sense of healing and growth radiates from it, with the sparkling pop feel of “Yellow of the Sun” bringing the album round to a complete and circular ending.

Where Care lived up to its title with its balm-like electronics, The Anteroom is often a challenging listen. Its constantly adapting sonic landscapes are fitting for an urgent political and ecological moment: its song-like identifying features perpetually breaking down like a dying star, or planet, or human.

Last Building Burning is, truly, as inspiring, energizing and life-affirming as punk is likely to get in 2018.

Over the course of the record, MØ finds her own identity again. And although Forever Neverland features Diplo, Charli XCX and Empress Of (two of which for whom she’s returning the favour), they never overshadow her; a refreshing angle considering she’s been the featured one for the past few years.

It’s a record with a few winners, a few losers and some fillers. However, it is by no means a poor record. There’s plenty here that most modern electro artists would die to produce, but it’s a shame that there’s just so much here that falls far short of the work Dear has done in the past.

It’s precise where MASSEDUCTION was deliciously sloppy. But in real terms, they’re both as near to perfect as a pop record is going to get these days--incredibly perceptive, personal and inviting with clever lyrics sitting on beautifully inventive melodies. Both albums are great. Both albums deserve all the awards.

Vile had the opportunity, with the success of his previous solo album, to make something completely polished and aim for the stars to just see where he landed. Rather than dialling back the finesse, he could have aimed for his Rumours, his Full Moon Fever. Instead, his eyes seemly firmly fixed on the road, then at the beach and then at the gutter. And it’s a thrill to join him everywhere he goes.

The outright corniness of some of the tracks--the steel drums of “Night Chef”, the softened yacht-rock of “Conceptual Mediterranean (Part 1)”--test the listener’s patience. Ultimately the purposeful superficiality of Out of Touch renders it inessential.

Where the original lacked depth, these versions source it through the lens of a quasi 21-track double album with revived bass and energy that is the stuff of their live shows.

Brandon Coleman's debut album is a funk-fuelled cacophony that some will adore, but its over-commitment to a narrow sound means that, unless you fall in love, you may find limited replay-ability in this album.

It’s a deeply engaging, consistently great release from a uniquely interesting artist. It’s just a damn shame that he’ll never get the chance to do it again.

I Loved You At Your Darkest dips in and out of musical splendour, changing course and reference, and while not necessarily black metal in a full labeling sense, nor rock-heavy alone, it’s a rather accessible hybrid.

The specificity of the lyrics and the boldness of the electronic orchestration should theoretically preclude this--but Grant lets the emotions that drive them show through enough that you can’t help but connect.

Where Domestica broke your heart, Vitriola only manages to get you half riled at the world around you. Kasher and co. continue to produce records that hit the nail on the head in terms of topic. This time, however, the hammer blows aren’t what they’ve been before.

Maybe it’s a little lighter, a little more carefree, a little sparer than her last few--or maybe it’s just that she doesn’t sound so hurt--but this feels like a step into something fresh. If not a creative rebirth, then a creative renewal.

As the tracks ebb and flow, the record provides the perfect accompaniment to the current heatwave we're all struggling to survive. Santigold has dropped this full-length artefact at exactly the right time, and she deserves all the recognition she gets.

Fucked Up’s personal narrative draws an uncanny parallel with that of Dose Your Dreams. In creating a tale of dreaming big and clinging on to hope they are living out their own script, refusing to be bound or compromise in the creation of their art. The importance of dreams cannot be understated.

C’est La Vie once again finds Houck creating sumptuous soundscapes of scorched Americana that range from slow burning laments to tipsy waltzes, but this time around with a renewed flow and finesse.

In ten aptly small songs Adrianne evokes our ability to vanish at the feet of nature, creating a black hole all of her own that’s both comforting and suffocating.

The album proves that Exploded View are at their best when they refuse to be constrained by reality, to listen to consensus or to obey, and instead, exist in the dazzling reverie of their collective dream.

As harrowing and malevolent as it occasionally is, it also serves as a feasible theory that even during one’s search for restoration and tranquility, existence isn’t symmetrical; it’s lop-sided and a belief that Hecker can unknowingly abide to--that even within the bounds of beauty, there will always be pockets of chaos.

Humble though she may be, Jlin is quickly becoming a staple within an esteemed circle of experimental, inter-disciplinary creators, with this score representing a vital step forward.

Their latest album Battle Lines is a potent reminder of the power of the combination of hard rhythm, electronic experimentation, and hard-hitting lyrics.

Not only is King of Cowards Pigs’ best release, the promise of their previous work fulfilled; in a year of hip hop and R&B dominating charts and critics’ minds alike, it’s probably also the best time you’re likely to have with a rock album in 2018.

Far from showing signs of slowing down, Nadler sounds more focussed here than ever, continuing to challenge herself and evolve, with her eyes fixed firmly on the horizon.

The Liverpool five-piece let the album form organically and in doing so have released a sharp, shimmering and versatile album.

The more you listen, the more intricacies you notice. The more you listen, the more you realise just how defining this record will be for the future of Brockhampton.

["Atropos"] (and the record as a whole) is a testament to the enduring potential of the old, mythical Woodstock tradition of a band setting up in a room (or a basement) and waiting for inspiration to strike.