It's Yorkston's voice that will capture you. Whispered stories are nothing new in folk music, but there is something more compelling happening here, especially when the Scottish author breathes in tune down your ear over brushed drums or oscillating organs.

Even at the midpoint meltdown of Pain’s insistent fuzz-mangling, it's all sumptuously glazed with a thick veneer of moreish melody and buzzing hooks.

From the ghostly mid-tempo beauty of tracks like Missus Morality and my kiss era, to lead single Nurse!, bar italia demonstrate how to be complex and seductive, without ever feeling pretentious.

Yes, it’s different and experimental, but those risks mostly pay off, and the DNA of Dream Nails, the thing that makes them so special, remains at their core.

Immersive and lyrically heavy, but not without radiancy and light, Hookworms' ability to turn desperation into euphoria is a quality that makes this album a liberating, often healing, experience.

Ultimately, Need to Feel Your Love remains a statement of defiance from a band full of it.

In the main, Blu Wav is Grandaddy’s most grounded album yet, a triumph of reinvention.

Ultimately, this is an important record at a time when galvanising young people to protest is needed perhaps more than ever. While it's presumptive to assume Algiers have succeeded, this record definitely won't hurt the effort.

Overall, Follow the Cyborg is a striking debut with both surrealist sensibilities and melodic hooks – marking Miss Grit as one to watch.

The vulnerable romance of Falling In Love Again and tactile tenderness of Don’t Drown Me Out make for welcome detours in a collection of songs that is led so intensely by strut-worthy rhythms and that raw bad-boy edge.

Utilising ideas of breath, space and breeze to thrilling effect, this is Björk at her most reflective and inquisitive. There are no clear cut 'hits' as such, and the album clearly begs to be enjoyed as a whole entity rather than have its innards plucked and picked at. However, if given your full attention, it will transport you to paradise.

Blame is a pounding Faithless-esque banger; the angry, awkward Divide enlists the envious talents of Middlesborough rapper Shakk; and the static jams of Dancing On the Tables produce one of the most memorable tracks you’ll hear this year. Benefits are back, whether you like it or not.

It's yet another successful reinvention from the Californian artist who continues to be an impenetrable force, laying herself bare and rebuilding for all to see and hear.

While not every moment works as seamlessly as others and some track lengths can feel slightly daunting, the triumphs far outway the tribulations on this enthralling, emotional trilogy conclusion.

These songs can be small, even womblike, but no less detailed or ambitious for it.

At times it feels like a strange fusion of medium and message but it’s a triumph that Catholic Action manage to imbue an increasingly staid format with some revolutionary zeal.

At times, these eccentric – and often downright baffling – transitions in style and tone can be disorienting, but they also speak to Cunningham’s dexterity as an electronic auteur, and his refusal to play by the rules.

This is less innovation, more a soothing collection of unpretentious porch songs, delivered in superb fashion.

These are the most maximalist songs he has put to tape in years, stretching from sub-one minute sound collages to 12-plus minute prose poems. Melodic indie sits close to a black metal scream by Elverum’s daughter, which a minute later segue’s into louche lounge rock. The intensely personal blends with the political and existential.

Overall there's a great deal to love on this album, whether you're hiding from the world or belting out some catharsis at your next (socially-distanced) garden party.

There's a Paris, Texas feel to much of the music on offer here, but LeBlanc and super-producer Cobb have also moved from the ditch to the middle of the road for some driving rock sounds not heard since Ryan Adams last put his head above the parapet. And if there's an Adams-shaped hole in the Americana landscape at the moment, we may have just found the man to take his place.

While Mr So and So shows the gig perv no mercy, elsewhere Hanna’s bonehead-nailing, predudice-lancing manifesto reverberates, as ever, with humanity and truth.

Playing with a mix of spoken word and sung lyrics in both English and French, powerful techno beats and fear-inducing soundscapes, New Path is a beautifully balanced and flowing record.

From massive, bashy beginnings, Congrats opens out into an album of very real, ripped-rule-book excitement; it’s exhausting and exhilarating and wonderful.

Many of Sharon Van Etten’s fans may be disappointed by the lack of sadness and darkness on Remind Me Tomorrow, and while there are still elements of both in the album’s undertones, there’s more of a hopefulness and sense of promise that suits her just as well.

While Peggy Sue never quite reached the dizzy heights of Mumford and Sons’ stadium-sized tours, their artfully woven narratives are more than double-tap worthy of it.

With The Departure, Wilson has indeed crafted a constantly captivating experience that's rich in both sound and spirit.

Giannascoli continues to ring genuine emotion from strange affectations and modulation to change his singing voice. It makes when he sings pretty (Oranges) hit even harder.

While Don’t Look Down might lack the knockout punches that would bring Kojey Radical to the top table of UK rap, it's another step in his rise as a star of the alternative scene as he continues to carve out his own sound.

At the very least, Cry Sugar acts as a reminder of Birchard’s originality but, at the most, it’s a broad and diverse exploration of the many faces of electronic music past and present.

Lust for Youth may not have made any personal great leap forward with this album, but it remains a set of glorious synth-pop gems, with an aching heart at their centre that most can only dream of.

It's a beautiful album that requires patience and provokes instrospection, while still retaining the gorgeous discotronics and expertly stitched samples that come with a Caribou release.

Uplifting and electric, Love Yes is a blast.

Where Ugly Cherries felt spontaneous and carefree, Pageant feels more mature and considered.

These songs are more impressionistic than anything Kenney has produced to date making for interesting and thoughtful music, and an accomplished second album.

The band’s impressive interplay and energy make these songs wonderfully replayable, to the point where the lyrics feel melodic and singalong worthy.

Like the image its title evokes then, Light Upon The Lake is a transient pleasure--but a vivid one while it lasts.

Come Around doesn’t have the tonal or the sonic variety of that previous record. Instead the record polishes to perfection dal Forno’s specific sound-world, feeling more like a jigsaw, the songs forming a kind of composite dreamscape.

With acute taste and an ability to meld disparate sounds together, bdrmm have a solid formula: radio-rock with more substance, nuance and historical awareness than most of their contemporaries.

Understated but never dreary, on Aperture Jadagu invites us into her inner world with refreshing vulnerability – to feel as she feels, dream as she dreams, and ultimately, to hold hope at the end of it all.

Similar to The Highland Mob, it utilises a number of classic grime tropes--eski clicks (Kontinuance); 8-bit homages (Evil Spirits); Dizzee Rascal-sampling sino throwbacks (A Like Ye)--but repackages them in a way that brings introspection to the fore.

Night Light, their seventh studio album, is one of their best yet, even when they veer into Bryan Adams-cheese on ballad Everything Is OK.

The most crucial overlap here is between Foals’ dual ambitions – creative and commercial. They’ve been one of the biggest bands in Britain for a while now – and finally, they truly sound like it.

It's not a record that's overly concerned with coherence, but the freedom to experiment suits Malkmus well, especially when he lets the ideas dictate the music without trying to adhere to any sort of thematic cohesion.

It’s not groundbreaking but, like the first record, it’s a fucking good time.

It’s certainly an assured debut, impeccably written and produced in a way that captures the singer as both youthful and soulful. Her voice is light and airy, with her distinctive vowel sounds giving a fresh spin to even the simplest of lyrics.

The unashamedly 80s aesthetic--which hallmarked the first Lost Themes--is pleasingly and emphatically recurrent on the second.

There's an ever-growing sense that Segarra is in a class above in terms of poignant lyricism and emotive performance – The Past Is Still Alive reaffirms this in spades.

An album steeped in depth, warmth and positivity.

The record proves to be slightly more interesting in its lyrical content than its musical content, but that’s more a compliment than a dig. It plays the softer than silk, pseudo-gospel rock style of boygenius with heart and emphatically hits every pacing beat on its checklist.

Curt's voice sounds beautiful, crisp and clear, resigned to fate, yielding beauty in the midst of cracked flaws. And the band, fleshed out with keyboardist Ron Stabinsky and Curt's son Elmo, work the magic of making all of this sound fresh and new.

Weighty subject matter, then, but Harris’ John Darnielle-esque delivery rams the message home amidst their strongest set of tunes since 2006’s The Body, The Blood, The Machine, with Kathy Foster’s on-point harmonies (Thinking Of You) and propulsive bass (Always Never Be) adding purpose to their power-punk arsenal.

While the interjection of these songs provide sobering reminders of what lies beyond the pleasantries, the party continues over the course of the record's 11 tracks, and an air of euphoria is present throughout.

The record does peter out a little with the closing few songs, and it can’t be said that Mitski has broken significantly new ground. Still, she’s as enchanting as ever.

With his new album Space Heavy, King Krule takes varying flavours from his unique sonic world and brings them together to create his most colourful work to date.

Navarasa: Nine Emotions is a rollercoaster of vibrancy.

They’ve gone from mammoth, side-long pseudo-jams to relatively bite-sized chunks without sacrificing any of the fury they’ve harboured from the beginning.

Wide-eyed in sound and vision, three is the magic number for Sacred Paws. They haven’t just jumped into life... they’ve leaped.

Flowers is another lunch-line scoop of hearty 70s soul revivalism from music's most dependable dispensary. It's just on the underside of too pretty for its own good.

The result is less revelation than stress test – a popstar proof-of-concept. In that, Thirlwall proves herself pop’s newest chameleon: brash, uneven and impossible to ignore.

It’s here to piss off metalheads, push boundaries and showcase that BMTH are certainly not one-dimensional.

Pasar de las Luces is over an hour in length, and while it is immersive and layered enough to justify a long run time, it still feels overlong. Nevertheless, it's a thoughtful and aurally beautiful album.

While it lacks the truly avant-garde attention of her previous record, trip9love…??? still contributes to her tripped-out, sensual surrealism with the intent of an artist willing to unfurl. In a carefully improvised moment of surprise, a definitive auteur of the modern feel decided to waltz into the centre of the dancefloor and yearn through that great release.

Although this album has some appealing pop melodies, any further examination or appreciation removes their surface-level charm. Elevator music isn't bad, it just fills awkward silences.

The title track of Van the Man's 40th (!) studio album, the slow jam is a brilliant blues number based on rolling Rhodes keyboards, fat horns, thin cymbal splashes and a vocal with such clarity, concision and quality that it will stop you in your tracks. Yep, that good. The rest? Well, you've seen this movie before: blues, jazz and soul standards delivered with minimum fuss and maximum quality.

While the project makes more sense if you’ve seen the movie, there’s plenty of warmth and intelligence alongside the tits and willies.

It’s true that psychedelia of this type is often frameless by its very nature. Yet, despite the album’s delights, one wonders how tight Neilson’s eccentric work would be if reined in a little.

An enjoyable if low-key listen that consolidates rather than shakes Stables’ current status.

While there is still plenty to love here, Everything Now feels like Arcade Fire's first non-essential album which is a serious matter given their illustrious back-catalogue.

Big Sigh's strength is in not holding back from confronting darker feelings, and revelling in the raw honesty of experiencing them.

There’s not enough adventure to make this truly feel like Pixies; it lacks the sense that the wheels might come off any minute. Lenchantin, for her part, holds her own, especially on All I Think About Now, but her new colleagues need to rediscover the urgency and ambition that defined their best work if they’re ever going to match it.

ASIWYFA haven’t reinvented the wheel with this album, but it’s a worthy addition to an increasingly accomplished body of work.

The palette can feel restrictive, and the lyrical matter predictable. It’s a stepping stone, a moment of reconciliation and recollection from a talent who is just about to surge ahead.

While still evoking a sense of auditory adventure on tracks such as The Deku Tree or instrumental interlude Off World Colony, this more sedate middle section can feel slightly too mid-tempo. Despite this, the duo's sonic voyages make it worthwhile to sink into Bamboo’s realm.

Act One: Music For Inanimate Objects is certainly a good album, but sometimes it feels like the only thing linking all the songs together is their slower tempo.

The result is less a stylistic refresh than a confident reaffirmation of their combined output up until now.

At 20 tracks long, however, it takes some serious listening to get through the whole thing, and a sense of sag in the latter third threatens to overpower on the first few spins. Essentially, this flower could've used a little more judicious pruning.

While Deliverance does have instances of real bracing power, it equally finds itself faltering in its most exposed moments where it really needs to connect.

Between Two Shores is another Glen Hansard album filled with good songs, gorgeous music and gregarious singing. Is that enough? You decide.

The eight-track album features themes on the new age norms of class, gender, race and power that shape the world today. Beyond the sweet melodies and striking instrumentals, New Age Norms 1 is a project with a message.

Too often the feeling remains that the joke isn't funny enough to sustain a whole record, especially one that follows a masterpiece.

Fake Sugar is a real reinvention for Beth Ditto, but it’s not so much of a reinvention that her signature traits are unrecognisable.

In all, after 18 very long years, Damage and Joy is a near-faultless return to form, even if some of these 'new' songs are actually over a decade old.

There are moments where things becomes a little sluggish, though perhaps a stumble here and there can be expected when an album tries to fit so much into a short space. For the most part though, The New Monday is a valiant attempt at distilling Detroit’s musical culture into a single, cohesive record.

Repeat visits are sure to unearth more of the band’s thought process, but there's a lingering sense that less could've been so much more.

Generally, though, this is an album of unobtrusive indie strum-alongs: Doris and The Daggers never quite explodes from the speakers, nor does it set your soul soaring with melodies to be bawled across fields and arenas.

If anything, it’s a shame the album takes this long to really flourish. Indie super-producer John Congleton is welcome on the boards, but he arguably provides a little too much polish, compared to his recent worthy efforts for Priests.

Geowulf have all the potential to be able to put together a decent pop album, with Kendrick’s blissful vocals and Banjanin’s chilled-out melodies, but unfortunately on Great Big Blue, they just fall a bit short.

There’s a pervading darkness over All This I Do for Glory that makes it a tricky listen at points.

Opener Human and later, less successfully, Faith For Doubt, divvy up the greatest hits of a Laurel Canyon-indebted film soundtrack with the driving rhythms of Fleetwood Mac. The latter is The War on Drugs without the transcendence. These, unfortunately, muddle an album filled mostly with quiet, vocal-led tracks that veer from haunting, sparse ballads to something more hopeful.

This Is How Tomorrow Moves is a sentimental and self-aware album that, at times, is emotive and infectiously catchy. At others, it is a little too safe, a little too generic and reserved.

While it is endearing to hear Karen O working with a more patient form of songwriting, the raw energy and emotion of her best work isn’t here.

Songs that are perfectly pitched to suit fans of Pixies, Daniel Johnson and Drive By Truckers; Lisa Walker on the other, working like Margo Timmins to make his harder (She’s Killed Hundreds) and funnier (Hello, I’m a Ghost) material more plaintive (Donny’s Death Scene, Hand of God).

There’s real heart buried underneath SUMAC’s furious, deafening bleakness; it can just feel like a serious excavation job to locate it.

The rhythm section never tries too hard, Philip Frobos’ vocals recline across the ten tracks with languid urgency, but it’s former Deerstalker guitarist Frankie Boyles who steals the show.

Ultimately while graves is a perfectly fine EP, it's also a mostly safe one.

Real Power is a lot of fun, though at points it seems to sacrifice bite in favour of a certain kind of generic polish.

Blanco has always fallen slightly short in lyrical content and, although there are hints of depth and melancholy, on tracks like High School Never Ends and You Don’t Know Me, Mykki never quite goes deep enough.