It’s the kind of stylistic pick’n’mix Mykki has made their name on: ‘Ketamine’ with Slug Christ nods to the latest iteration of pop-punk; ‘Your Love Was A Gift’ shows a fragility to Dianna Gordon’s vocals amid ghostly production; ‘Trust A Little Bit’ shimmers with a tender nature. And best of all, it works as a whole.

‘The Car’ is Alex and crew’s most soundtrack-like work so far, flowing together in one long movement made cohesive by Bridget Samuels’ lush orchestral arrangements which adorn it.

With this near-mystical storytelling ‘Quiet The Room’ leans heavily on folk, yet in style it embodies something entirely different. Seemingly on the edge of collapse, it tells a fraught tale of fragile memories that exist on the very brink of reality.

‘Here Is Everything’ lands in the sweet spot; it’s creatively ambitious, pushing the quartet into new ground, but it does so with a renewed sense of fun.

‘Dirt Femme’ sees her juxtapose elements ingeniously. If she’s singing in a straightforward manner, on a more direct number, then the music is twisting and turning in offbeat ways.

‘CHAOS NOW*’ might not have much of ‘80s Mancunian misery in its toolbox, but there’s an exhilarating meeting of grunge, pop-punk and indie with hip hop rhythms: Beck if he’d used a palette of early ‘00s MTV2.

There is something strangely satisfying about its consistency and confidence. Have no doubts, ‘Being Funny…’ is most certainly still The 1975; they’ve just refined their pop nous that little bit more this time around.

There are plenty of good ideas across ‘Suckerpunch’. It just could’ve done with fewer bad ones.

For a record born of fatigue and exhaustion, she imbues a renewing sense of urgency to each bar she delivers.

‘Into The Blue’ comes across like the pair swapping mixtapes; a little ‘60s psych here, some ‘70s soul there, with a smidge of ‘80s R&B between. ... In lesser hands, this may have presented a mish-mash of confused homage, but here, it’s just a pleasant, nostalgic listen.

The stories being told match in tone, driven forward through a tantalising mix of urgency and despondency – mirroring the detached hustle of England’s capital.

Uneasy and unpredictable, yet invigorating.

Across ‘Cool It Down’, Yeah Yeah Yeahs remain true to their roots without making it sound like a nostalgic grab for previous glory. ... It turns out Yeah Yeah Yeahs 2.0 is exactly what 2022 needs.

These 14 tracks are so sonically rich with a multitude of textures, each listen peeling back just one measly layer; Molly’s vocal hooks and turns of phrase will remain in your brain days after the last listen.

With fewer hands stirring the pot this time around, she’s had ample opportunity to come even more into her own, pulling off the bouncy, subtly ska-influenced WLW bop ‘hover like a GODDESS’ and introspective guitar pop groove of ‘curious/furious’ and ‘ur a stranger’ with stylish ease. Most intriguing, perhaps, are her forays into post-hardcore, unleashing a tremendous scream over the top of crunching guitars in the dying moments of ‘ it’s my fault’, but not everything goes quite so smoothly.

The record makes no attempt to shroud emotional reactions to the modern world, and it results in a thematically poignant, lyrically sharp and sonically surprising statement piece that redeems what was once used as a dismissive label.

‘GULP!’ isn’t Sports Team’s number one-scoring album (that could well be still to come). What it does offer is a heft of new ammo for pint-flinging, moshpitting chaos on the dancefloor.

The Lounge Society clearly have more in their influence pool than just one slipstream, and it’s when they embrace the full flood that they shine.

It’s a testament to his talents that he can produce an album that encapsulates his weird and beautiful world, which is full of more questions than answers.

‘Tough Baby’ gives us a distinctly moving experience of serious artistic intent. It’s like watching a wound open, flowers growing out of it.

The LA quintet’s third album doesn’t quite explode as much as it hopes to, though a few songs threaten to, largely the acid-tongued, grinding ‘Roadkill’ and the vintage-sounding title track.

There’s an abundance of over-excited jitters that keep you bouncing to each wildly mercurial moment. ‘demon time’ is an undeniable rush to your systems, and a deliciously futuristic one at that.

A deeply thoughtful and yet infinitely danceable collection of songs, it balances honest truths with taunting vocals and bursts of synth-prompted energy.

‘(self-titled)’ is Vegemite: the same, but different. When he strips it right back - ‘Prior Warning’, with its bleak reminiscing reflected by a sonic hark back to the London scene in which he made his early name, and the stark ‘Dangerous Game’, where Marcus’ voice allowed to linger for just the right amount of time - there’s a warm quality to his songwriting that seeps through.

Suede maintain their magnitude through emotional craft - single ‘15 Again’ is the perfect microcosm of ‘Autofiction’’s ups and downs, its euphoric chorus built around painstaking regret. In essence, ‘Autofiction’ finds Suede still fiercely in motion.

‘Spark’ presents a jarring change: not one from that familiar warmth to icy cold, but only halfway, a sort of uncomfortable mild chill.

‘Asphalt Meadows’ may not be a lockdown record, but it’s one that finds its voice in emerging into musical freedoms found in separation.

It’s an honest and visceral look into more painful moments that come with processing past pain.