Thematic and tonal dexterity accounted for, The New Sound is undeniably an entertaining body of work which highlights Greep’s strengths as a singular songwriter and performer. However, there are instances (the bizarre final minute of ‘Walk Up’) where Greep throws too many ideas at one song, resulting in misaligned structures.

Looser and more personal, fragile but still pissed off, City Lights – next to the band’s self-titled debut – portrays the classic tale of a creative harmony that blooms over time, no longer tempered by the tentativeness that comes with getting to know one another.

This feels, in many ways, more like a compilation than a coherent album: a selection of tracks created in tribute to the late artist, rather than a cogent piece of art crafted by her exacting hand. It isn’t so much that this tries and fails to replicate what SOPHIE did best – or, more accurately, what only SOPHIE did – but more that it steers too far away from that, likely (and with good reason) to avoid criticism on that front.

The whole record feels hauled from a dream space where you’re laid on your back letting the sky sink down to you. It’s ‘Shadow of a Doubt’ the album.

The pop hooks in contrast to their previous two albums are more subliminal. The melodies don’t always go in places you expect, but this music is best left to stew in the background before the magic manifests.

As a whole, Viewfinder is Eisenberg’s most ambitious statement yet, and a testament to their range as an artist.

Cascade is a unified and more straightforward album from Floating Points, made for those looking for dancefloor elation.

Migratory is a beautiful listening experience that should hopefully bring some succour to you, wherever you might be.

Rack is what fans have waited a long time for. .... It’s partly completing unfinished business, returning to the high-water mark of those Touch and Go days. And it’s partly because, together, they make an unholy racket that makes them feel good.

Wild God is exactly what you’d expect a Bad Seeds record made by church-going Nick Cave at the age of 66 to sound like – vocally, that wobble and rasp now is what you’re going to get from decades spent smoking snouts and everything else besides. Musically, it is a slow and elegantly-arranged record, which also seems fitting for where Cave is in life.

WOOF charms mainly by the dint of its barefaced cheek: a record like this has been long overdue, especially since the pandemic.

American Standard is, paradoxically, perhaps the band’s most straight-up listenable record while also their hardest to process thematically. .... It focuses in large part on a life lived with bulimia nervosa. Like the band’s four previous albums and sundry collaborations, these experiences are examined under a harsh, bright, unforgiving light in a manner that’s deeply unflattering but also cuttingly incisive.

Thirty years later, Seefeel still know how to push our buttons.

Despite the inevitable ending, Amelia is an unexpectedly soothing record. This is largely down to Anderson having a calm, meditative quality to her voice that holds steady whether the arrangement is minimalist or intense. But much of the relaxing quality of the album is also related to Anderson’s ability to look at a figure frequently only cast in tragedy and mystery as a whole person.

A project with little boundaries, 3+5 stands on its own two feet as a concoction of hyperactive releases weaving in disco, electronica, cyberpunk, metal and more.

A Firmer Hand is such a thrilling listen because it eschews the platitudes of empowerment for something far more gritty, tough, self-critical – yet also unafraid to dish it out.

Ndola emphasises the need to acknowledge and learn origin stories to gain a deeper understanding of how music works both locally and globally in the present. Far from just another spectacularly re-playable adventure from Kampire, this is the most convincing evidence to date that she’s an excellent musicologist and historian, not just an exceptional DJ.

Flight b741 could have come off as overly kitsch or ironic, but King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard stick the landing.

Musically, >>>> is as strong throughout as the vocals are characteristically for the birds. .... >>>> arrives out of nowhere and it’s a fine addition to the canon, made all the more amenable by the cleverly engineered surprise of it all.

Cellophane Memories is harder to get a grip on. Chrystabell’s vocals, previously the unambiguous focus of every song, are here layered, cut-up, and reversed, often to the point where they become indecipherable. That’s in part due to the nature of its creation.

Its story expands on the journey and transitional creative period their last release embarked on, in a way that both compliments their past while not being afraid to introduce a slightly weirder path.

Shackleton’s deep bass rumble and Six Organs’ ritual folk both echo through Jinxed By Being where together they conjure something strange and absorbing.

The greatest achievement across Charm remains Cottrill’s execution of another large-scale reimagining of her desired sound.

The music rewards multiple listens, with different emotional subtleties emerging in each one.

An album that takes us through the gamut of human experience. As I say, Um never feels like the tentative steps of a debutante.

It’s all so assured, yet Fratti never returns to the same thought for long. It’s impressive for a musician who’s comfortable with her voice and instrument.

It’s so bloody infectiously JOYOUS that I can’t help but get swept along by the dazzling melodic hooks, rampaging beats, thirty-year throwbacks, and glitched out breathy vox.

The six impressive soundscapes are often desolate and overwhelming, with brief flashes of hope. What grounds Disconnect is Joseph Kamaru’s spoken vocal, delivered like warnings through static.