By the time Continuum 10 closes the album with a flash of rapture, and a gentle piano progression that signals the closeness of the next rebirth, it feels like your soul has been thoroughly cleansed.

Autobiography offers a fascinating glimpse into the complex mind of one of dance music’s most enigmatic figures.

Viagr aboys is a return to form and pushes the band’s strengths to the forefront. Although the album perhaps lacks tracks with the earworm qualities that past songs like Sports had, the band succeeds in creating a bizarre and entertaining listening experience.

The strained clarity of Zauner’s voice is what makes this album so beautiful, particularly during the contemplative balladry of This House. Moving and inspired, Soft Sounds From Another Planet is yet another lesson in guitar pop perfection.

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.

At 16 tracks the album does slightly outstay its welcome, and in its latter stages it begins to feel like ideas are being repeated, but with less focus and immediacy.

Pensive, resting beats provide a backdrop to the album's many experiments with it really popping in its quieter moments of lyrical reflection and confrontation. Loggerhead requires repeat listening to discover its true depth.

A dozen records deep in their career, we find Lambchop at their most adventurous, and it sounds wonderful.

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

The whole record contains this sense of purity, the songs sitting somewhere between hymns and nursery rhymes, not just in their simplicity but in the sense they seem to have always existed.

A challenging but rewarding album, Aviary continually grasps towards communication, exulting in common humanity amid societal ruptures.

Baker doesn’t shy away from the weight of depression, but depending on your emotional state, the album is either cathartic or overbearing.

If anything, uknowhatimsaying¿ is a little more controlled than Brown’s previous record, and perhaps that’s the experienced hand of Q-Tip exerting influence. It does nothing to besmirch the crown that Brown has already claimed as his own – as one of the best, and most boundary pushing, artists in the rap game.

The Attachment Theory highlight fascinating new aspects to Van Etten's craft, like the reflective prisms of precious stone. What is lost in cohesion is made up for by an exploratory freedom that the band revel in, hopping from wistful to explosive to triumphant.

The question of identity is touched upon throughout the songs here (national, political, gender), but in terms of musical identity, Hurray for the Riff Raff know exactly who they are.

What could well be their best effort yet. ... We're taken on a journey through many different genres, concepts, voices and anthems (I Don't Wanna Live in This World Anymore) which all manage to work cohesively to create an unbelievably satisfying whole by the time of finale Joy Stops Time.

This is something at once new and familiar, and it demands your attention immediately.

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

As much as has been made over the years about their esoteric methods, what they've always managed to do as a band is keep clever-clever at bay. This continues on Crooked Wing. For all their hifalutin techniques, they remain at their sublime best when most heart-on-sleeve.

Tina’s bossa nova rhythms slip awkwardly between homage and parody, its retro charms uncertainly realised. Yet even these misfires retain the warmth and sincerity that make More an inviting return. Pulp demonstrate here that revisiting the past can yield genuinely uncompromising and organic rewards.

The vividity of NAO’s lyrical expression leaves the listener deeply enthralled and invested in her stories. Thankfully, downtempo closing track A Life Like This provides some reassuring confirmation that everything has come together.

Gargoyle kicks massive ass; here are ten songs you won’t be able to hear enough. Just about essential.

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.

On the Land Blues is especially reminiscent of the latter’s Blue Ridge Mountains, but lacks their pathos and grandeur. Otherwise, there’s plenty else for the ears to feast on.

It’s in the curation of the record where Ayewa excels, presenting a platform for black and queer collaborators throughout.

It's a continuation of their bombastic instrumental rock, adding enough new experiments to keep things interesting, but staying close enough to their well-hewn sound to ensure a cosy familiarity.

Plowing Into the Field of Love was a champagne swilling, country honky-tonk left turn; and now comes Beyondless, a record altogether more iconic sounding, but no less strange. ... Iceage continue to be one of the most exciting bands in music.

A poignant but punchy triumph then, perfectly timed for mid-winter maladies.

Out of My Province finds Reid on magnificent form. ... For all the emotion she conveys and coaxes from the listener, she sounds like she’s been singing these songs all her life. Like all her thrilling and incredibly distinctive inflections come as easy as breathing.

Chinouriri siphons every good idea from her previous EPs and evolves them into great ones; hits we saw in the prophecy fulfilled in the present. It also contains what should be referred to as ‘good-ole-fashioned-pacing’: front-load with hits, dip for a few ballads, repeat with an uproarious middle section, and coast off with acoustics.

Is Clouds In the Sky... better than Waterslide...? They both reward repeated listens so time will tell. Does it matter? No. Fans will love it, and new listeners, who fall in love on the strength of this album, have a stellar back catalogue to devour.

While Painless is not so far removed from its predecessor that it could alienate existing fans, the closing brace of the mystic and anotherlife present some of the more interesting ideas here, exploring the complexities and capabilities of Yanya's voice, as well as her more ethereal pop chops. If this is hinting at where she's heading next, it’s very exciting indeed.

The heavier tracks are the album's most interesting moments, allowing for singer Nicola Kearey to stomp out her vocals with extreme force.

On Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You Cain has once again been able to translate incredibly personal experiences into deeply universal feelings that come from young love and heartbreak.

Significant Changes may well plunge you below the surface but by the time you reach final track Conclusion, tying in perfectly with the album's overriding scientific theme, we're ever confident that even deeper sounds are still to come from Jayda G.

L.A. Witch's dreamy, gothic take on garage rock is more about atmosphere than message, but you'll find plenty of devil in their details.

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.

Future Me Loves Me occupies a warm, energetic space between joyful hooks, melodic harmonies and lyrical substance.

The results are certainly a departure for an artist who seems to relish the chance to collaborate and while each of these ten songs is a Roberts original, the lush song craft recalls the golden age of electric folksters like Fairport Convention and Trees, ensuring Roberts' ongoing connection with the past.

With a clearly defined sound and unapologetic enthusiasm, The Linda Lindas are absolutely a group to watch.

The album’s tendency towards soft and sugary can sometimes grate a little, especially when the band sound so vital and exciting when they amp up the dirt and energy (Silence is Golden; I Told You That I Was Afraid). Overall though, this is a solid collection of bittersweet pop gems for anyone with half a heart.

A moving synth-pop paean to the pair’s powerful relationship and a fitting finale to their School of Seven Bells project.

The result is intimate and arresting.

A stunningly controlled and moving work, for fans of ambient and instrumental music Temporal is a must-listen.

The band consistently reward close listening with little treasures, like on Echo, where a deceptively barebones instrumental is coloured with keys that decay slightly differently every few seconds, and bass that uses flourishes so understated they’re basically subconscious. That’s to say nothing of the songwriting, which is as catchy and uncool as ever.

It’s strange then that in its opening stages it feels so lifeless. .... Then there’s the one-two of immaculate singles Girlie-Pop! and S.M.O., and it’s like the record has put its finger in a plug socket.

God's Favorite Customer showcases Tillman at his most levelled: sly-tongued and biting, emotional and soulful, articulating life's most complex feelings in a way we can all understand.

Forever Howlong sees Black Country, New Road take their individualistic aura another gallant stride forward. What comes next is anyone’s guess.

Wall of Eyes is a kaleidoscopic, mind-altering pronouncement: The Smile are not a band of their component parts, not echoes of their previous ventures. They are something exciting, ambitious, and genuinely brilliant; a sentiment delivered so resoundingly by their work here that it will leave your ears ringing.

It's the wealth of exquisitely baroque moments, exploring history as a pliable, multi-dimensional rift, that makes Age Of Lopatin's most ambitious album yet. There is exceptional sonic depth, and those who were confounded by his dive into industrial alternative on Garden of Delete will notice a bewildering continuity.

There's so much going on in this record, but it's far from a case of throwing everything against the wall and seeing what sticks. A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships is a considered, ambitious album from a band who are constantly pushing themselves.

Recorded in a week with her friend Luke Temple, abysskiss captures a fleeting moment in time, though some minor creative decisions taken feel as if they could have larger implications in the future, as the understated synth in womb leaves us curious as to how her unmistakeable vocal would sound accompanied only by cold electronics. Said vocal is as complex as ever: delicate and strong, soothing yet uneasy, each listen revealing new emotional depth.

forevher is an excellent comeback from Shura, proving that she is more than the sum of her capacity to go viral.

Their experimentation lies more structurally than sonically here. ... It also means that when they do lock into an extended groove it feels all the more impactful, be it the slinky The Little Maker, or the fractious firestorm that emerges in the middle of Momentary Art of Soul! It makes for an album where brevity belies what an enlivening and broad world it contains.

This infectious record is a timely reminder that punk’s greatest trick has always been to make the isolated feel less alone.

There is a certain messiness that he has managed to pull together throughout the record, giving an overall impression of authenticity, as well as multiple formidable creative sources colliding.

While the slippery compressed horns and strings snaking through a few tracks feel a little over-sanitised, they do match the sense of unease in Pearson’s lyrics reflecting on loss and pain, like shadows subtly bleeding into her kaleidoscopic soundscape.

hopefully ! is a new sound, but the album is just as beautiful and personal, showing Loyle Carner’s progress not just as an artist but as a person.

It’s an album that worms its way into you, slowly revealing more and more of itself with each listen, layers of intricacies shifting beneath its drifting beauty.

After a long time away, Do Make Say Think are still able to captivate as much as ever.

Both make exclusively great records, and it’s business as usual here.

Coated in oohs, FX and distortion, the record’s production by Margo Broom (Fat White Family, Goat Girl) is rich and textured. A tight debut, ticking all the boxes; job's done.

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.

Moments of despair are gorgeously balanced by tight, optimistic motifs that are dotted throughout the record.

Luckily, the finished product is articulate and bubbling with energy and positivity--much like Lekman himself.

This is an album that’s been made with care and intelligence. The results are compelling.

The Window is indicative of a newfound assuredness for a band which itself has stretched from a two-piece to a full foursome.

On Hive Mind, the positive impact of their time apart is quickly apparent. The opener, Come Together is mature and quietly devastating in spite of its perky rhythm, an emblem of solidarity in the face of senseless violence. There’s little else here in the way of political statements, though, to the album’s benefit.

This debut comes from immense, fruitful collaboration. A collaboration between beings, instruments, melodies and spaces that offer room to listen, reflect and become.

An album imbued with heartfelt sentiments, both expressed and inexpressible, At the Party with My Brown Friends is at once earnest, rippling with intensity, and a refreshing summer soundtrack. It’s a colossal forward-step for BBES, but one that keeps intact, and sees Paul’s unique artistic vision flourishing.

A warm, insightful and frequently jarring record full of pain, love, curiosity and mystery.

On G_d's Pee AT STATE'S END! Godspeed has created a perfect soundtrack for these strange times.

As ever, the potent gallows humour of The Peace And Truce... derives not from flaneur-ish observation, but from direct experience.

With Drop Cherries Billie Marten has beautifully recollected a collection of intimate feelings, thoughts and sentiments, transforming them into introspective songs that are hauntingly relatable to any listener.

If You Had Seen the Bull’s Swimming Attempts You Would Have Stayed Away provides three distinct sonic variations in its first minute alone, and does not rest on its laurels from thereon out. It encapsulates O Monolith, and elevates it.

A timely and exciting collection of songs.

On the back half of the record, the production turns towards the kind of lo-fi psychedelia of Stereolab and Broadcast, Clairo embodying Trish Keenan’s detached delivery, another previously unseen aspect of her artistry she wears well. Like Sling, Charm is a grower of an album, Clairo growing with it.

So Much Country ‘Till We Get There is barely 15 minutes long; it is scarcely believable how much promise they’ve packed into it. Believe the hype.

It “accompanies” the film. It’s also the best part of it; a correction: Brontë’s gothica as something that clings and stains. And Charli, thoughtfully and tastefully, suffusing that stain into her continued ascendancy.

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.

Brick Body Kids Still Daydream offers everything you’d expect from an Open Mike Eagle album and rivals Dark Comedy for the best in his catalogue. But it’s also his most thematically coherent work yet.

Chubb’s lyrics are so sharp they could pierce the skin like a sword. Embodying the ethos of punk, All That Is Over mirrors the horrific state of humanity that the world has found itself in.

The fact she’s instead opted for a bunch of gritty, Bunker Records-inspired analogue improvisations makes the end product all the more enjoyable. Qualm is also underpinned by a peculiar sense of Britishness.

It all sounds nice enough, but it's lacking the biting insight of the best Oldham records. Luckily, the second half is a lot more contemplative, with a fascinating final triptych of moody cuts, reveling in an air of opaque imagery (less so on the final track) and campfire rumination.

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

Not only are Ty Segall fans likely to be pressing this on people for the next few months, it also might be just about the best album he’s put his own name to.

It takes a few listens to even begin to peel back its multi-layered complexity. It’s a triumph, though: a dense, paranoid and phenomenally pretty exploration of post-millennial wonder that’ll keep you coming back, even as it fills the pit of your stomach with dread.

Like each of the other eight explosive and grinding grunge tracks that make up Heaven, I Feel Free works to wipe the slate clean and start afresh. Despite the ferocity, there is undoubtedly uplift woven into the very fabric of each of Heaven’s blistering tracks.

But with all this exploration, the record lacks a little impact, not quite achieving the cohesion and emotional gravity of Good at Falling.

At Weddings shows Tomberlin tapping into a tentative inner strength, creating a soothing record that ends up resisting its self-doubts and reaches out its hand.

Which isn’t to say that she gets everything right--the new arrangements of both Killer and Georgia lack the immediacy of their originally released versions--but when she does, you can see her making a long career of this.

Ultimately, like the Henry Moore sculptures she mentions near the album’s end, Harding’s songs can be as mundanely lifelike from afar as they are strangely alien up close.

God Games provides glimpses of what makes The Kills so compelling, but is unlikely to convert many new listeners to the cause.

A memorable addition to Chasny’s admirable body of work.

From the bombastic earworm title track to the pulsating requiem that is Paradise, to the twisted pop spectacle We Cannot Resist, Animal is utterly intoxicating – something that cannot be contained. Surrender to it.

There are long stretches, particularly during the muted take on V1 in which the pieces are impressive rather than affecting, where you can marvel at Malone’s skill with timbre without being moved in any way. It leaves a sense that the album feels more like one for the most committed fans of all three artists, but one that, given the chance, has some astonishing moments.

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.

It's a decisive success from one of NYC’s most distinct exports – though its head may sometimes come before the beat, it is no doubt an impressive achievement.