It’s a delightful, towering debut that will indeed leave you ecstatic.

While hardly reinventing the wheel with ‘What Do We Do Now,’ J has yet again delivered a set of songs that only an enigma like he could.

Arresting, yet often unexpected, ‘Fairweather Friend’ pilfers from the indie pop lineage, while daring to stamp out a unique identity of its own.

A bold work of evolution, ‘EVERYBODY CAN’T GO’ utilises some fantastic production – notably from Hit-Boy – to piece together a seamless record, one that hauls his sound forwards into a fresh era.

One of Kirby’s key strengths is her lyrics, but even with her voice front and foremost her repeated appeal to “wait, wait, wait, listen” seems like it could be genuine. On the other hand, the fact that a first spin inspires a kind of relaxed inattention just makes ‘Blue Raspberry’ more of a slow burn, one which rewards listeners who come back for more.

‘What an enormous room’ is an amalgamation of its title: an expansive collection of tracks, difficult to define, but somehow remains undeniably TORRES.

Despite having to navigate different kinds of losses to get to this stage, Tucker and Brownstein have emerged stringently triumphant, their bond stronger and more unshakeable than ever.

As a debut, it cements the band as one with a long path ahead of them. As an album, it’s a deeply moving, mesmerizing work with themes that stick with you long after listening.

Future Islands’ fans will find plenty to love with this album, with some of the songs here already instant favourites and others feeling like some of the best, most fully realised of their career thus far.

A record of real depth, ‘Wall Of Eyes’ closes on a sombre note. Distinctive, melodic, and defined, ‘You Know Me’ doesn’t so much pull at the heartstrings as slice right through them, Thom Yorke’s voice dissolving into a mesh of strings. It’s a suitably potent moment to end the record on – poised and suggestive, it becomes a bridge from one phase, to something as yet uncharted.

Had it been trimmed down to ten or eleven tracks, then maybe we’d be talking about one of Green Day’s strongest releases. As it stands, ‘Saviors’ turns out to be a somewhat confident return to form, but one that also fails to build upon the records that inspired it.

‘Electrowavebaby’ is fun but doesn’t seem to add to his sound, while ‘Mr Coola’ feels a little dated. At its best, though, ‘Insano’ can be riveting.

A blockbuster that lives up to the hype, ‘american dream’ is 21 Savage at his most luminescent. In staying true to himself, he’s been able to build something unique – now he’s taking it to the world.

As with the twin EPs that preceded it, however, the glimpses of originality strewn across ‘Lovegaze’ are too often sparse islands in a sea of pleasant but generic etherea.

Whilst it might not be as immediately stunning as the mix of luscious synth pop and alternate universe James Bond themes on that album [Red Moon In Venus], she still shines on this record, code-switching between English and Romance and beat-switching between sultry R&B and sunny Latin party pop.

‘Iechyd Da’ is a forward-moving record rooted in love and loss, marking a significant chapter in the musician and producer’s career.

A gorgeous album, ‘Big Sigh’ is a winter treat for the long January nights.

The human condition and thus society is complex and difficult to navigate but Sprints have not been afraid to express uncertainty and vulnerability. And all the while they have enveloped these themes in the most glorious noise for us all to find comfort and lose ourselves in. Is it possible to have an album of the year contender on only the first week in? Of course it is.

While her debut could in places feel slight, this new record feels lived-in, and true.

Refusing to be hemmed in, it’s a record of real ambition, an example mirroring fan-pleasing tendencies with actual artistic growth. Sometimes the sequels really are better.

‘i/o’ takes us on a journey… of life and all of its experiences and is set to be one of Peter Gabriel’s greatest solo albums to date.

With a 19-track span and a colossal guest cast, not everything on ‘BLOCKBUSTA’ lands. There’s a feeling sometimes that these collaborations were done separately and then spliced together, with some moments lacking cohesion, or a sense of chemistry. ‘HOMAGE’ with Kodak Black feels flat, for example, while the record’s eclecticism prevents ‘BLOCKBUSTA’ from truly coalescing. That said, there are moments of real bravery.

The downside to the album is to appreciate it properly you need to play it front to back, no skipping. Whilst paying attention. This isn’t something to play in the background. You need to concentrate on it.

Kevin Abstract’s newest studio album continues to assert him as one of the greatest talents of this generation, an individual who eliminates conformity and remains earnest and candid, regardless of the sonic environment he visits.

Its primary strength lies in the way Drake threads himself and finds pockets within the grooves and crevices, foregoing lustre and grandiosity in favour of an understated performance piece. .... There’s an existential paranoia about this recent iteration of Drake, however.

This album is a step in the right direction in terms of mood, but it’s an overstep in terms of the emotional burden Brown is offering. The choruses are repetitive and don’t fit, and the take away should be focusing more on balance. However, it’s not a question of if he can get that balance right, but when.

Ultimately, the Achilles heel of the whole project is how invested, how much fans will truly believe in this. To some, it’s a meme stretched to breaking point, the elasticity of his flute-playing hauled out to become an opaque sheet, void of detail. To others, it’s an excellent – almost unclassifiable – mood piece. Whether it’s the meanderings of an internet-savvy millionaire or the crucial work of a modern day ambient auteur is perhaps in the eye of the beholder.

It takes a special sort to do such songs justice with a mere acoustic guitar, but Marshall manages it. When things go electric, the ante isn’t upped nearly enough, however, and can’t help but pale compared to the frantic energy of The Hawks and Dylan fighting the audience.