Yellow brims with kindness and connection through its musical messages, reminding us refreshingly of what it is to be a human among humans.

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.

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.

This is still the band we fell in love with over a decade ago: confessional, honest, enthralling. It's just that this time out they're sleeker and sharper than before.

A well-crafted album.

Aartfully collected set of recordings, one that never ceases to make you shift your weight, either into comfort or something more unsettled.

Shygirl has created a project that screams for attention. It slithers through a jungle of sound. Tracks reminiscent of a shattered lullaby, or a disjointed reflection on a past relationship. Shygirl has basically created an entire genre all her own.

Arab Strap’s first studio album together since 2005’s The Last Romance is marked by a feeling of not quite-ness; everything’s there but it just doesn’t quite click into its potential at many points. A good half of the record treads in similar ground to opener and comeback single The Turning of Our Bones; drum machines, faintly angular guitar arpeggios and Moffat’s largely spoken dissection of middle age.

The overall bleed from one to the next, the movement of the narrative, is what makes this such a brilliant piece of work.

These are songs for the faithful and the uninitiated; universal yet strikingly intimate.

There is poetry in silence, and with Vesper Sparrow, Ellis allows us to lean in and hear it.

If previous releases made Laufey Gen Z’s jazz-pop queen, A Matter of Time affirms that title.

A real gem, this bold album brimming with character begins the etching of Chatten’s name among music’s greats.

There is no more potent reminder on The Ballad of Darren of what a back-to-basics approach makes possible than the outstanding lead single, The Narcissist. It's the gorgeous, understated sound of a band that suffered such growing pains for so long finally settling handsomely into their own skin. In that respect, it’s the whole album in microcosm.

Taking chances while renewing and enhancing their inimitable sound, Eton Alive is a belch in the face of the architects of austerity, a cry of sheer life amid an increasingly deadening environment.

A record imbued with full faith in the minor masterpieces that dominate Villagers' fifth studio album.

Snares seems like a long EP--one that ends before it really gets going.

Lead single Neon Signs is a vibrant, flickering song about the breakdown of trust, while Irreversible Damage considers wild landscapes that are irrevocably changed by us but still the closest thing to wilderness we have.

His final statement cuts a broad swathe, taking in soul, pop and psychedelia across its 11 ambitious tracks. ... A fine songwriter has bid goodnight.

Musically, it’s varied and adventurous; thematically, it sees the world’s present darkness and raises it hope. A vital record.

The Practice of Love is a powerful and joyous offering from one of the last artists anyone could ever accuse of playing it safe. Her unorthodox observations ('She found stretch mark cream / In an Airbnb bathroom') are, more so than ever before, full of wit, bite and beauty.

PHASOR is a rich and absorbing record that truly transports; placing the listener in a languid, half-lit morning where you’re never quite asleep and never fully awake.

Let Them Eat Chaos dazzles with its linguistically-created, vivid imagery, and ability to evoke overwhelming atmosphere through its sound.

Dust breathes so easy at times, its beats are almost loose. ... Highly recommended; this time around there’s nothing to fear.

Virginia Wing’s gift is the ability to get these elements [musique concrète to squelchy deconstructed techno, refracted pop hooks and seismic drone] to sit so comfortably alongside each other, within one immersive sonic world.

The dense barrage of Honey Water recalls the smoky alt-rock of Zauner’s second album Soft Sounds from Another Planet, while Picture Window is a much brighter, busier tangle of country, rock and pop. Closing track Magic Mountain paints another gorgeous cinematic soundscape, scattered with clusters of celestial chimes.

No Shape steps out as Hadreas’ brightest and most lavish record to date but, as in all the best fairy tales, it’s haunted by as many ghosts as it is populated by princes.

CACTI is understandably more subdued than her self-titled debut, but the boisterous numbers it does contain, like spite, might feel more dynamic played live by humans – it feels like the energy that makes her such a captivating performer is being restricted by her drum machine.

The cumulative effect is sublime and will leave even the most agnostic listener in a state of transcendental bliss.

A natural empath, she wraps warm words around the shoulders of lives made wretched by those who breathe easiest. ... A monumental achievement that stands utterly alone.

Across the album, Uchis seamlessly slips between English and Spanish. ... When the journey comes to a close, it couldn’t be clearer that, in Uchis’ world, love is the message.

Hval’s most personal record, Blood Bitch is an understated but intriguing album by a perpetually fascinating artist.

As usual Flying Lotus produces, with his fingerprints particularly keenly felt on tracks such as Unrequited Love, to assist Bruner with yet another fantastic release.

This is a thrilling and beautiful return well worth the four-year wait.

Her most honest and reflective work to date.

Hope Downs is as good a reminder as any that life’s a blast. Head to the beach, you’ve found the soundtrack.

Pratt’s voice is still gorgeously muffled and her words remain indecipherable at times. But while she may have once sounded fragile, here she is almost swaggering.

These writers are resurrecting a long lost art in popular music – using big sounds, with indulgent lyrics, crafting a listening experience so rich it borders on hedonism. Some records are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and few to be chewed and digested. We’re still digesting Prelude to Ecstasy.

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.

There’s no sniff of second album syndrome here. moisturizer oozes confidence and Wet Leg continue to play to their strengths in style.

The Art of Loving proves to be both a continuation and a step forward from Messy, with Dean bringing a new level of maturity and authenticity that brings depth and complexity to the album.

Not everything here works; the album’s middle section gets a little too bogged down in the weeds to the point of distraction. However, the final stretch sees a thrilling switch to route one, such as the climax of Third Double or the excellent Favoured Over The Ride.

Kae Tempest fully opens up on This Line Is a Curve and it continues to blossom with every listen.

Singularity it feels like he’s levelled up the melding of two worlds: ambient and techno. Hopkins’ signature deep tissue massage bass is stitched together throughout, with unreal moments of musical beauty making Singularity a simply stunning album of emotional highs and lows.

What sparkles most about this new album is the comfort you feel when Malkmus and his band do exactly what you expect.

This is the group’s masterwork to date, a thrillingly rich tapestry that combines passionate reflections on the meaning of black power, sharpened in particular by last summer’s Black Lives Matter protests, with sonic love letters to black culture past and present.

All Nerve shrugs off any burden of a ‘come-back’ and becomes a truly rare thing: a wild, visionary, timeless rock album.

Few artists can toe the line between melancholy and miracle like Allison, making Sometimes, Forever a record worthy of accolades for some time, perhaps even forever.

Perhaps this new album doesn’t match the immediate wow factor of Whack World – few albums ever could – but regardless, we should be thankful Tierra Whack is out there doing her thing; making mainstream hip-hop interesting.

To be making music that can truly surprise you 13 albums and 28 years into a career is a testament to Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker’s continued dedication to their craft.

The ten tracks collected here are an excellent slice of brilliantly composed pop masterclasses, and only further add credence to the idea that Folick is indeed the real deal.

Redirecting the euphoric energy of the club toward creative ends, City of Clowns is a rallying call for a more humane digital future.

It's a sage document precisely because it embraces that which can’t be figured out: what life has next in store.

The album sways more into the meandering rather than the conclusive – perhaps an observation on the unpredictability of life itself, but nevertheless leaving things feeling somewhat stunted.

Sometimes the influence of others brings a feeling of dilution, reducing the unadulterated Bon Iver experience, but it's hard to begrudge the sheer delight of these songs. The sexy atmosphere of Walk Home, the reflective pedal steel of There's a Rhythm and the peaceful instrumental coda Au Revoir don't match the experimental genius of previous albums, but Vernon and co have never sounded so hopeful and free from worry.

Liars' tenth album is a spotty affair with showy highs (Sekwar, The Start), pulpy mediocrity (From What the Never Was, My Pulse to Ponder) and enigmatic experiments (Acid Crop, Leisure War).

It’s Dalt at her most exposed, and somehow, her most inscrutable. .... A cinematic exploration of the self that reveals the human psyche as a strange and uncanny landscape.

More notable for its meditative atmosphere than blockbuster tracks, Rebound isn’t the sort of record that will blow anyone away, but that’s never been Friedberger’s MO. When it comes to neatly capturing knotty feelings and subtle changes of mood, she remains one of indie rock’s masters.

Solo Piano III is colourful and humorous; the sheer musicality of the work is astounding, bringing the listener as close to contentment as music possibly can.

Authentic, intricate and wholeheartedly personal, Julia Jacklin brims with poise at every turn on PRE PLEASURE.

It’s thrilling to hear songs gussied up in the signifiers of 'challenging music' be so completely unserious.

Throughout, Jlin's command over rhythm and texture make what could be too impenetrable a blast to hear.

Take Me Apart may not appear as immediately interesting and unique as her previous work but there are layers upon layers of elements to be explored, digested and, ironically enough, taken apart.

The Great Bailout, while resting handily within her trademark virulent atmospheres and spoken word, is among her most impenetrable and least entertaining from a practical sense. This is not a fault of the record, but a necessary and expected byproduct of its existence, as each track runs up to ten minutes in a dirge of menacing poetry with instrumentals more evocative of a sinister mood-piece than a traditional song

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.

The titular track shines a light up to the album as a whole – fun, endearingly cringeworthy, luxury pop music.

Even if subdued, light folk lullabies channel old-school Big Thief in this journey to homecoming and cosy familiarity.

The album loses some of its momentum through the last few songs, foregoing the weighty power of Minor Feelings for something more airy and nebulous. In many ways, this album feels like a love letter to Sawayama's younger self. It feels like a promise that joy is coming.

It’s funnier, weirder, and plays with a more colourful blend of Americana. It also reveals more depth and ambition.

The album spans TikTok pop to grunge and lots in between. De Souza commits to them all.

Staggering, and arguably the purest and fullest expression of the band in its current form. ... For those already converted, this is sure to tattoo a permanent smile on your face, but it will no doubt satisfy even the most casual appreciator of punk, hardcore or classic rock too.

Gordon manages to hit that sweet spot, creating an album that is adventurous, charmingly deadpan and visceral at every turn.

It's a bold move to put out so much music in one go, but Freedom's Goblin is sure-footed enough to warrant to such a splurge.

Eno Williams and crew up the ante on all fronts for Uyai; the percussion races forward while the arrangements are busier and more ambitious, each tune twisting and turning through rhythm changes and back-to-back riffs like a living thing.

Potentially one of the most beautiful records you’ll hear this year. It makes sweet misery out of melody while articulating a forlorn yet rousing sense of hope.

Frontwoman (and visual artist) Isabel Munoz-Newsome steals the show with her haunted-chanteuse vocals, generally floating and ephemeral, but always powerful. The arrangements complement and flesh out her tales of love, sex and identity.

An album steeped in depth, warmth and positivity.

The Nothing is a record that comes at you like a wood-burning stove. The band are unafraid to experiment and there are frequently moments of affecting dissonance but the dissonance is paired with a simple distracting prettiness that beguiles and transports.

Dark Eyed Messenger explores themes of love, loss, nature and memory with the sort of understated evocativeness Crowley has made his own.

CHAI may lean heavily into kawaii culture but PINK proves there’s a wealth of depth beneath the cute exterior.

The main shift on this album in comparison to previous work, and you feel that Wind Resistance has emboldened her to do this on record, is spoken word and storytelling.

Navarasa: Nine Emotions is a rollercoaster of vibrancy.

Ultimately, although it’s more immediate than their 2016 record, what you gain from We Are Sent Here By History will be dictated by how much you connect with its musical vision. Sink into its groove though and it’s an album that presents a fascinating societal commentary.

Jumping between instrumentation and production styles, Flora Fauna feels a little disjointed at times, but overall this only serves to add to the feeling of rebirth.

As an album, If Words Were Flowers won’t win Harding any new fans but it is a contemplative, thoughtful exploration of modern love through the prism of traditionalist soul.

Unlearning is a daring and ambitious debut from a band who aren't afraid to take risks in order to achieve their vision, and for Walt Disco it’s a risk that’s paid off.

Les Racines is a personal project that reinstates Vieux’s own identity and unique skill, while thanking the roots that he grew from.

Alpha Zulu is everything a Phoenix album has been already: slick, silly, maximalist. ... They mine nostalgia for call-backs (Tonight); find comedy in impending doom (Alpha Zulu). But the boys are ageing and, separated initially by lockdown, an emotional core burned a hole in the centre of this new record instead of a six-minute space-bound instrumental.

With Where I’m Meant To Be, the jazz quintet have crafted a supremely effective call to surrender yourself to the present and celebrate life through dance.

Unmistakably human touches are the key to the album’s balanced sound – still ominous and complex, but with less of an underground bunker feel than previous outings.

Radio Red bears all the hallmarks of a carefully constructed labour of love, one rendered all the more elegant by the glacial pace of its gestation.

A triumph for Anderson, it's a more than worthy addition to his extensive and revered body of work; after over a hundred albums, his reign as king is as secure as ever.

Nueen’s understated drill elements bring a benevolent, tense space that Iceboy Violet has complemented with their lyrical expanse.

On choke enough, Oklou's mature and assured debut album, any potential bombast is subdued, like it was recorded underwater.

With Loner, Barry Can’t Swim cements himself as a boundary-pushing voice in electronic music, one fluent in mood, movement, and meaningful reflection.

Consistently flowing from heartfelt numbers to classic electrifying rock, Futique is one of Biffy's most personal albums to date, cementing their status as one of the country’s most iconic bands.

Memories Are Now is a gorgeously delivered elegy to heartbreak and loss; powerful, perfectly executed songs to bring comfort and strength to the weary, broken and scorned.