Despite being an unnerving, disorienting listen, where samples of screams or phone calls clash with blank verse lines weaving in and out of consciousness, GOLLIWOG is a hugely rewarding experience. Blending an immense array of collaborators on the mic and behind the desk, it somehow manages to string them together cohesively in impressive fashion.

On Pirouette Model/Actriz continue their tightrope walk over chaos and introspection, desire and vulnerability, with camp aplomb. Another vital record from a trailblazing band.

The wordless interstitial Flutter is abstract and freeform, its processed violin combining with cranked up electronics into a great surge, but Somerville can just as easily channel that spirit of experimentation into a perfect pop song like all her forebears.

Rebecca Lucy Taylor's third album as Self Esteem sharpens what’s always been at the core of her musical identity: the tension between frank vulnerability and pop maximalism.

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.

It’s noisy, it’s militant, it’s human, and it’s a time capsule for the year you’re already burning an effigy of. Get it while it’s hot.

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.

Things start promisingly on opener Special, with the equally rip-roaring Fantasy shortly after. The problems emerge in the album's latter half, starting from the latest single Tonight, which feels sadly very safe and leads to songs that wouldn't feel out of place on an early 2000s generic pop-punk album.

Bunky Becky Birthday Boy is a return to the immediacy that made Sleigh Bells’ name – but you wonder whether they had to sacrifice quite so much of the nuance of their last couple of albums in the process.

aya pushes her sound into more abrasive territory here, yet the record’s most crushing peaks come in its sparser moments, be it the haunting coda of peach, or the subterranean drone of the album’s title track.

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

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

Portrait of My Heart channels and exudes a wild assortment of sonic influences – an approach which results in the most honest and entrancing SPELLLING record to date.art

It's to Dacus's credit that Forever is a Feeling still feels grounded in the same raw emotions and subtle details that have rightly made her a star. That said, there is a certain amount of playing it safe.

Lonely People With Power is their most sonically-rounded record, probably their heaviest and quite possibly their best.

Hadreas toys with classic rock and Americana sounds masterfully, these canonical totems of genre upended by his tenderness and specificity of imagery. This is his most band-driven album, and all the players here are vibrating on their own collective frequency.

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.

A striking fusion of psychedelic rap and R'n'B. Peng balances otherworldly soundscapes with lyrics that bleed with vulnerability.

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.

Dead Channel Sky’s brilliance is front-loaded. .... This vitality soon becomes mired in conceptual slog – testament that clipping. are capable of greatness but struggle to stay consistently great.

Alter Ego should make meteoric impact. Instead, it lands with a dull thud. The album doesn’t feel like an artistic statement so much as lab-assembled and A&R-curated; sterile and unwilling to take risks.

SASAMI can write the hell out of a love song, but something about this album's emotional side feels more generic than referential.

There are no split decisions here. Divorce have delivered a strong early contender for album of the year.

There’s no question DePlume is a remarkable saxophonist, his orchestral arrangements with International Anthem labelmate Macie Stewart are stunning, yet the appeal is a tenderness for the listener.

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

Nothing remains a heady listen, but there’s an embodied immediacy that’ll make it easy to return to when the sun hits our skin again.

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

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