Steeped in blissful American nostalgia, Bleachers’ sublime self-titled fourth studio album embodies it all, from the rolling vistas to the warmth of distant city lights, at once watching the world pass by and deeply cemented in a moment. It’s rare for an album to capture a feeling so intensely, promoting a universal recognition through something so intrinsically linked to an individual’s time and place.

Never has an album title been better chosen - the duo are at the centre of a brightly burning, ever-expanding sonic explosion, all of their own making, and just like a supernova, it is utterly stunning to witness. Bow down to the queens.

‘Loud Without Noise’ is flawless. Wildly ambitious, it works to showcase perfectly why the Merseysiders have garnered such a fervent fanbase to date – and just how far they could go.

The picture it paints as a whole is a hugely rich one - not just of the album itself, but of English Teacher as the opposite of a flash-in-the-pan buzz band; as a group really only just getting started.

St. Vincent showcases Annie Clark as a fiercely accomplished musician, a relentlessly original artist, and now, an innovator of pop.

A rare album without a single Achilles heel, The Magic Gang have created a debut that’ll be remembered as a milestone moment in years to come.

After years of the slow build, the release is here. Believe the hype.

Sounding like their most ambitious and handsome release yet.

Cure-y closer ‘24 Hours’ underlines the fact that Heartworms are one to keep a trained eye on, its rumbling outro an omen not for an oncoming rapture so much as the arrival of a Seriously Fucking Cool new artist with vision and formidable talent to her name.

Hurrying urgently down the rushing veins of every song, colliding surreally poetic lyrics with thumping racket in a tense, on-edge mess, Untitled could well’ve put WALL on the same trajectory as their equally absurdist contemporaries Parquet Courts.

It does everything a debut should, dipping into multiple pools but uniting them all with a consistent outlook and a clear voice. Joy Crookes, by rights, should be riding ‘Skin’ into the big leagues.

‘Hideous Bastard’ sees Oliver take on both these past and present realities with a candour that surprises even him.

‘Heaven knows’ pushes PinkPantheress into new realms of utter brilliance.

Melodrama's acceptance of taking what you can get while never failing to reach for the stars makes it one of the smartest pop records of the decade.

‘Happier Than Ever’, then, is not just a triumph in progressing a signature sound into new territories, but a lesson in how to own your reality with confidence and class.

MGMT haven't necessarily re-discovered their mojo, but re-imagined it, and in doing so, may well have given us one of the best albums of the year.

More than anything, ‘Tigers Blood’ is a refinement of the blueprint laid down by ‘Saint Cloud’, and a showcase of Katie at the peak of her powers.

Both varied and beautifully evocative, Voyageur is the perfect listen for merging wintery wistfulness with ethereal wonder.

It’s as fun and messy as it is timelessly trendy; as silly as it is erotic.

There’s something invigorating about how audibly Porridge Radio stare their demons head on, step up to the plate and turn them into something big and ambitious and beautiful.

Sounds layered upon sounds; the intricacies here may hint towards Mosquito being more of a grower than its older siblings, but it proves that Yeah Yeah Yeahs are a band to cherish.

‘Where’s My Utopia?’ is as much a joy intellectually as it is musically, a leap in the right direction from one of our most promising groups of the day.

Pushing nearly 30 years in the game, JARV IS... still an absolute one-of-a-kind.

The collaborative spirit of producer Fred and long-time friend Haai flows throughout ‘Mid Air’’s eleven-strong homage to an unforgettable era, but it’s Romy’s autobiographical candour that adds a depth beyond the record’s inarguable ecstasy.

‘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.

Vols. 11 & 12 yield nothing but successes. The eight tracks here are scrappy, sure, and have the understandable feel of demos rather than fully formed final products. But the bones of the beast? Well, they’re kind of brilliant.

‘Classic Objects’ walks the line between art and humanity, between nature and fabrication, between the real and the conceptual. It’s the audible equivalent of a painting affixed with human hair.

Striking a perfect balance between familiarity and unpredictability, immediate choruses coexisting with a relaxed, breezy sound, ‘IRL’ is a delight.

This isn’t britpop recooked, reheated or reserved. Be it 1993 or 2013, In Love stands proud.

It’s testament to their skill and commitment that it all hangs together so well. What could brush off as mere novelty instead thrives as an almost unique ability to mix anything and everything within arms reach. By being almost completely unrestrained and unmoderated ‘The Talkies’ can exist in its rawest and most vital form.

These bold theatrics more than work, and maybe more so than ever, they present Creeper with a clear track to bringing camp, dramatic rock back to the very top of the pile.

In a contemporary pop age of increasingly tired homogeneity, AlunaGeorge are a very welcome breath of fresh air.

The sheer number of curtain-drop moments is remarkable, somehow never overused or superfluous. There’s a mastery in the songwriting, too: simultaneously gut-wrenching and incredibly cathartic, continuing a thread that has underpinned the band’s material this far.

Another truly original triumph.

Goldfrapp's singles collection is a triumph of compellingly brilliant classy pop.

By intention or coincidence, the band's debut boils over with frustration. And all you crave is a piece of it.

His shifts in sound are as delicate as his music, continuing to showcase his ability to blur styles with unparalleled precision.

‘Beatopia’ shows growth without risking losing the charm that has made Bea a firm favourite.

If there is one fault, it may be that, at times, the production and backing is a little too restrained.... [But] It really is a thing of beauty, and gets better with every listen; one of the surest signs of something that will ultimately be deemed timeless.

Insouciant, effortless cool; shimmering, effervescent melodies that cut through the street-smart danger; the ability to sound vitally alive whilst simultaneously not giving a fuck: all the traits that underpin the band’s best songs are present and correct, from ‘Dancing With Myself’-aping recent single ‘Bad Decisions’, to the twinkling, yearning ‘Selfless’.

An album which is deluged in melancholy of the sweetest kind, 'Threads' undoubtedly deserves your ears.

Their boldest, most exciting switch-flip in years.

Spoken word moments peppered throughout hark back to the ‘80s on an album that pushes musical boundaries well past the present day. In sound, it’s as bold as the personality that runs through it.

A full project that transcends his current reach.

Taken individually these songs are all gorgeous, but as a whole they create an effect of being hemmed in by absence, that inhospitable land overwhelming in its minimalism. No other record today sounds so beautiful and full while being quite so sparse.

There’s a fine line between using a formula and sticking to it, and it’s the smart way in which Sheer Mag do the former that makes ‘Playing Favorites’ so enthralling.

‘World Wide Pop’ is a joyously over-the-top explosion of audio technicolor, where the group embrace their oddities and eccentricities.

There's no doubt 'Nocturniquet' is amongst the band's best work, and sufficiently different – witness for instance the loud bass-heavy synths that pervade the heavier tracks – from their career highlights that it should satisfy all comers. It's f***ing brilliant, and that's really all there is to it.

It’s the uniquely sombre and contemplative Iggy Pop album we didn’t realise we needed.

A beautiful new offering, ‘Pony’ is equal parts heart wrenching and hopeful, and shows Rex back at his very finest.

Delicate duets, bluegrass string strumming and some of the most genuinely emotive lyrics you'll hear all year combine to produce an album of rare and beautiful quality.

The band’s most concise sound yet whilst never taking itself too seriously, as Mannequin Pussy continue to dominate a world of their own creation.

‘Mercy’ provides another delicious example of an esteemed old-timer triumphantly pushing his creative frontiers into a much-shifted modern age.

The leap has definitely paid off - her inimitable voice thrives in the woozy dancehall and afrobeat-inspired ‘First’ and the big pop confidence of ‘Womxn’, but also knows when to take a step back, peppering the record with spoken word segments and heartfelt mantras that tie the whole thing together.

As twelve equally matched moments of varied tone but consistent brilliance, it's nothing short of exactly what was expected--the start of something even bigger.

While The National don't progress or indeed offer anything new to outstanding cynics, they instead rejoice in their strengths of detailing life and all its sorry baggage in the most beautiful of ways.

The real masterstroke of ‘30’, however, comes with how these lyrics - the pain, the self-flagellation (sometimes cruel, often mocking), the hope, the acceptance - are expertly matched musically.

Lime Garden offer a reassuring hand to warm shoulders and a candied melody or ten to sweeten ears. Not only this, but as an album indebted as much to Charli XCX or Bon Iver as it is to The Strokes, as equally comfortable with cello-bowing ballads or auto-tuned pop anthemia as it is with the guitar-chugging banger, it confirms Lime Garden as a band with potential to achieve even higher artistic greatness.

While the off-kilter rhythms and cowbells of ‘This Love’ give way to a central chorus line that’s almost Bowie-esque. They’re big reference points but ‘Turn The Car Around’ uses them masterfully to drive down its own sonic motorway.

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

Both what you’d want and expect from a Chemical Brothers album, as well as a whole lot more on top, it pushes the duo firmly back to relevance.

A modern-folk masterpiece which finds her moving from her previous pop bangers into stunningly simple yet sharp melodies, ‘folklore’ will be going down in Swiftie history as one of her most unexpected, and undoubtedly one of her best.

Overall, it’s a testament to the world-class songwriting of The Lemon Twigs that at no point does the record fall into the realms of ‘too much’. For most, it would be hard to strike that balance, but The Lemon Twigs absolutely master the art of crooning sugary pop-rock in the best of ways.

Squid always seemed destined to have an epic album in them, and they’ve delivered just that.

Broadening the creative scope, Half Waif is given the space to breathe both lyrically and musically. ‘Mythopoetics’ glides from the stripped back piano and layered vocals of opener ‘Fabric’ and the intimate closer ‘Powder’ to the electronic flourishes that have elevated Nandi’s sound across four prior records.

This record is a playful, daring and capricious listen, and one of the first truly remarkable records of 2012.

Often Gorillaz records fall victim to feeling a little disjointed but with many moods and gargantuan guests here, Damon somehow manages to make ‘Strange Timez’ feel like a cohesive whole. Gorillaz can often be a hard band to define, and their records haven’t always fared well in the context they’re released in - in 2020 though, it all makes perfect sense.

Whether it matches up to its self-proclaimed sister record or not, 2020 has seen Taylor Swift deliver over two hours of the most relatable stories in contemporary pop. There are lyricists and there are storytellers, and in a year of uncertainty and inconsistency, Taylor Swift has emerged as the most assured songwriter of her generation.

Few albums carry the raw emotion of ‘Every Bad’, and carry it with such musical confidence.

It's entirely possible that by proving they can make anything their own, they've become one of Britain's best bands.

An album that exudes charm and euphoria, while still very much being Fall Out Boy’s DNA, ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ is a real joy.

‘10,000 gecs’ is a thrilling ride from start to finish, catapulting through genres across 10 unrelenting and imaginative bangers.

It sounds fantastic throughout; there's just the right mix of intense dance floor dynamics and reverential sounds.

‘songs’ feels like unearthing an old puzzle a piece at a time. ‘instrumentals’, while texturally the same, focuses on pure ambience – the unspecific title is far more deserving. If anything, this feels more like a companion piece, a window into that cabin rather than its own separate record. If you wish you had been there, this is the best way to feel like you were.

Perhaps a less confident artist would be tempted to finish on a grand crescendo, but Angel Olsen has made a masterful record that both requires and earns a little patience.

‘POSTINDUSTRIAL HOMETOWN BLUES’ is not the soothing salve for a country tearing itself apart. Instead, it is the molotov cocktail and lighter threatening to ignite the people into taking action.

That ‘Laurel Hell’ exists only because it almost didn’t gives it its power. It provides the space for her mastery of songwriting, and Patrick Hyland’s understated yet orchestral production places Mitski in a realm all her own.

What’s remarkable about ‘What A Devastating Turn Of Events’, though, is that the gravitas of this weightier material isn’t cheapened by the sudden contrast, just as the LP’s initial buoyancy somehow doesn’t become retrospectively flippant. Instead, the album honours that life’s lightness isn’t contradicted by the dark moments, but rather co-exists alongside them; a reminder that everything – and everyone – contains multitudes.

As the record builds to a final cathartic hushed scream, ‘Punisher’ marks a clear step forward, but one that remains as fundamentally graceful as all that has come before.

Whether it’s a modern California of wildfires and livestreams, or a nostalgic glance at a James Dean, Marilyn Monroe make-believe - it’s Lana Del Rey’s world, we’re just living it.

Yves has carved out their own, trailblazing sound amid the racket of modernity and it truly feels like an awakening. Trapped somewhere between visceral punk, Oneohtrix Point Never and Dean Blunt, ‘Praise A Lord…’ is in fact like no other.

‘if i could make it go quiet’ has all the qualities of a blockbuster pop record - incessant hooks, A-list producer credits - but hone in on each track and you’ll find intimate vignettes that are fully-formed in themselves.

The 19-track remix record has elements of bubblegum-pop, screamo, rock, pop, hip hop and pretty much every genre you can think of, creating an album that is a masterpiece in its madness.

Not so much Marika 3.0 as the Marika who was always there, but tougher, stronger and more triumphant than ever.

These guys just made you want to flail your arms around and shout the lyrics. Heel-stomping music. God-forbid, head-banging music.

Swampy and tumultuous like a month’s worth of rain, the Dundalk five-piece have spared no expense in creating immersive, cavernous spaces of shoegazing, post-punk splendour.

Nothing Great About Britain permeates everything about this fantastic first record from the soon-to-be-star that is Tyron Frampton.

So, taking all the wide-eyed playfulness of their earlier work, and the confidence in creating a sonic tapestry of their latter, ‘Only God Was Above Us’ is both their most accomplished and most Vampire Weekend album yet.

Endless Flowers is an amazing effort that deserves a place at the top of its genre. This album deserves to be heard and loved. Do yourself a favour and get yourself a copy once it hits the stores.

With seemingly none of that badass-ery from their classic late-’90s output diluted by the passage of time, ‘Little Rope’ sloshes up nothing less than a condensed, rocket-punch collection of ten three-minute bangers.

There may well be no such thing as a ten out of ten album, a level of perfection and flawlessness that is by all likelihood totally unobtainable; but it's hard to imagine anyone coming closer than these five men from New York.

Everything here has been given room to expand, songs drifting from dreamy ascension to full-blown rock revelation and back again. An album of immense power and conviction.

Full of heart and full of ideas, it’s big, clever and brilliantly odd.

She once again explores new ventures, crafting a pop album that celebrates the old classics as well as the new, and cements her status as a true pop trailblazer.

The lyrics are a little more personal, the band a little more developed - it seems that this is the start of a new and exciting chapter for The Gaslight Anthem.

This is a fully realised version of who and what they have always been.

Confined to merely six tracks, the ‘La vita nuova’ EP feels like it ends too soon - and that’s entirely symptomatic of how strong the songwriting is. In 2020, Christine is still truly in a league of her own.

One of the most endlessly intriguing albums of the year so far.