Cry will make you cry, because Gonzalez knows what he's doing. It's cathartic, stunning, it'll awaken your senses and it's not to be missed.

The singer elicited production help from Noah Georgeson ( Joanna Newsom, Devendra Banhart), a smart decision, given the subtle yet always effective sonic touches here. The result is a stunning work that will draw you back to repeated, if oft intense, listening.

Big Dark Love has big, dark secrets hidden away in its seams that call out for repeated listens until you can draw them into the light.

Alex G is a genius at crafting intimately familiar feelings while injecting off-kilter miscues that satisfy the oddball compulsions living in our heads. The level of restraint routinely becomes unbalanced in an instant, yet the results are more reassuring than anxiety-inducing.

Sonically, the album is a time capsule of the greatest moments in black music history. Lyrically, it's hard-hitting reality about the present day, the good, the bad and the horrific — but it's also a captivating tale about using love as a weapon to overcome, as well as the reality that sometimes love also fails, whether it be romantic, platonic or social.

Her most ambitious work to date, both conceptually and instrumentally.

His gruff vocals hold pain and weariness as he reflects on his struggles and challenges. Yet, however difficult it might be to ingest his candour, there is also a maturity about Miller in which to take solace. There's a sense of growth and lessons learned. These are the marks of a life well-lived, however short.

Americana record of the year? It's up there.

On Majid Jordan, it's clear the Toronto pair have refined their sound, with subtle but meaningful touches that make for a stunning, cohesive work of art.

The Consuming Flame is Matmos at their finest. Daniel and Schmidt have taken the simplest of concepts and manipulated it into a gorgeous and grotesque beast of an album.

A more challenging and elusive listen than the felted atmospherics of Chance of Rain or In Situ, this is Halo at her most artful and poetic.

House of Sugar steps into volatile, subterranean moods not quite grounded in reality, flitting towards soupy daydreams and murky fantasy worlds. Giannascoli's creativity is endless and as he continues his never-ending output of mysteriously disorienting and strangely familiar songs, he's becoming stronger and weirder with every album.

It's not only her best work, but the best amongst her peers, the sort of album that transcends the lane she was in beforehand, transcends whatever antiquated gender biases may still permeate the genre and puts her in the same category as your favourite rapper (who's now clamouring for a Rapsody feature).

Ought have conjured one of the most refreshing and inspiring rock records of the year.

The dark, synth-heavy Post Plague cements Odonis Odonis's reputation as skilled composers, and keeps listeners guessing what they may have up their sleeve next.

In an industry where the idea of a meritocracy is as foreign as a retirement plan, Bryan James has achieved the near impossible. In My Mind is the most earnest soul album in years.

With Bécs, Fennesz achieves the near-impossible, crafting a musical sequel that retains the energy, vision and flow of its predecessor.

Breathe is Tiny Moving Parts' best work to date, and if math rock is your thing, it would be a crime to not check it out.

Awe-inspiring and unforgettable.

What lingers, along with the musical brilliance and uncharacteristic openness of his 50 Song Memoir, is Merritt's humour; his distinctive baritone delivering countless witty sardonic kernels, sometimes assisted by a well-timed dramatic pause, all wrapped up in catchy, unforgettable songs.

Just musical enough to swallow, and just raucous enough to rattle your bones, Girl Band's Holding Hands with Jamie represents all the harmful and healing qualities of noise. It won't be long until you're hooked.

No matter how many musicians he showcases, no matter how many sonic avenues he takes, no matter how many tracks he squeezes in, Thundercat sounds undeniably and defiantly like no other on Drunk

The result is a perfectly flowing album that is, at times, as calming as it is chaotic.

Every song on The End of Radio has by now made it on to a Shellac release, but it's a testament to the singular artistry of this band that these two Peel sessions provoke pleasant feelings of awe and surprise at things that sound both familiar, yet fascinatingly alien.

Traveller isn't just an exercise in classic country revivalism; like Sturgill Simpson before him (with whom he shares a producer in Dave Cobb), Stapleton has taken the old tools and crafted something that feels as new as tomorrow morning.

Los Campesinos!' brief hiatus has resulted in one of their strongest releases to date; Sick Scenes is an eloquent testament to the triumphs and trials of adulthood.

Not only is Gas' Narkopop a top candidate for best microhouse album of 2017, it may also be the best drone album and the best classical album--and possibly just the best album you'll hear this year, period.

Set My Heart on Fire Immediately is an enormous, cavernous record – the kind that invites you to sit inside and let your fears and triumphs echo against its glittering walls. It's been a small marvel to witness the transformation of Mike Hadreas, and his latest offering is only more proof that he's an artist unlike any other working today, capable of opening doors to the unknown and illuminating new pathways.