Household Name is, altogether, an ineffably charming release bringing a youthful modernity to old school sounds.

The stunning Sweet Dreams Of Otherness is a burning behemoth of raging psychedelia – think Wade’s Dooms Children project on steroids and turned up to 11 – while Sans Soleil is a gorgeous, almost proggy anthem about overcoming an episode of depressive self-loathing that’s as poignant as it is powerful.

You don’t have to take a crash course on two decades of complex lore to enjoy Act II, though. For all their intricate storytelling and consummate musical skills, Coheed remain surprisingly accessible.

Not all of World Below lives up to this early promise. You can find songs like Poor Old Me – wonky guitar, jaded sarcasm – filling out landfill indie releases from the ’00s. However, late highlight Midnight twists heads with grinding industrial rhythms.

Supernova basks in its own raw originality and kicks any naysayers to the curb with its unforgettable impact.

This appears to be the start of a promising new chapter.

Heavy Pendulum is truly a remarkable record, not only for its quality but also because it represents Cave In’s ability to persevere after enduring so much trauma. It’s the work of a wholly rejuvenated and imaginative group.

This introspective, incendiary, searingly intelligent set of songs finds them as emotionally invested as they’ve ever been.

Many outstanding moments on this. ... A vicious mix of grime, hip-hop and punk, Bob Vylan Presents The Price Of Life is an intersectional look at what it’s like to exist as a black person in Britain within a capitalist society.

While DISCO4:: PART II isn't perfect, it's definitely worth your time.

Sure, some songs are better than others, but Ego Trip’s a rare thing: a 14-track album that features not a single duffer.

The confidence with which these 10 tracks are delivered is proof this is just the beginning. There’s some growing up to be done, but right now, The Linda Lindas are revelling in the joys of youth, and it sounds great.

John Frusciante’s performance is effective and restrained, and drummer Chad Smith shines when he’s let loose, notably on These Are The Ways. There are, however, way too many tracks that miss their marks, trying to supplant the old energy with wisdom; the magik with maturity.

The one thing holding Diaspora Problems back, save for its disappointing lack of hooks, is that it doesn’t exploit its strengths as fully as it might.

It really is impossible to pick fault with the record, every track playing its part, and further cementing their legend.

After that opener sets the tone with its intentionally sloppy orchestral dramatics, the frenzied Totally Fine bursts out of the gate with the kind of paranoid urgency that’s defined the band’s 12 years of their existence.

All of this is very good. Even better for the fact that, even though it ties to the movie, it doesn't have much reason to exist beyond the sake of doing it. It's wild, off the cuff, youthful, over-excited, exactly how this stuff is meant to make you feel.

While this record isn’t going to lure rock purists out of their dens, it has greater ambitions in mind, and the amount it achieves in the space that it does is staggering. For any artist of any genre, this is the textbook for innovation.

Machine Gun Kelly’s detractors will likely have you believe Mainstream Sellout is terrible. It isn’t, but nor is the fire burning as bright as it once was. There’s some fun to be had here, but ultimately, this is the weakest record of MGK’s rock era so far.

Deficiencies are rare. When Never Let Me Go calls time on its 13 songs with the exquisitely constructed Fix Yourself, it does so in a manner befitting an album that is overwhelmingly a success.

It’s music for the loveliest of golden summer evenings, but has a greater depth to it that reveals itself with more and more listens, as if it’s coming out of its own shell. And when it does, it’s nothing but wonderful.

Conceptually and musically, it’s a startlingly ambitious piece of work from a truly iconoclastic band. Their volatile negativity should, by rights, lead to an alienating experience, but instead Vein.fm summon a catharsis which feels timely and invigorating.

Cult Of Luna’s evolution shows no signs of slowing down. The Long Road North is another welcome addition on their quest to push sonic boundaries and is one of their hardest hitting releases yet.

In all the ways that matter, this solidifies their status as a collective still expanding upon their legacy, rather than resting on it.

Drug Church are as addictively seductive as ever and listening to Hygiene might just be one of the most satisfying things you can do in less than half an hour.

An album that cannot and will not stand still, or be quiet, or remain one thing for very long. In a world where many cushion themselves from ills with complacency, it’s good to have a record that’s ready to shake (and shit) people up.

Impera is among Ghost’s very best and sure to push them even closer to those heavenly heights.

There’s all manner of the energetic offerings you’re yearning for here. But there are the slower soul-bearers too, in the same vein as the classic I’m With You, such as Avalanche, which will appeal to fans of what Olivia Rodrigo is doing.

There are no crashing power chords, OTT theatrics or questionable haircuts to worry about on All The Truth That I Can Tell. Just an open-hearted, increasingly middle-aged man, his acoustic guitar, and the same brand of chest-swelling songwriting many of us have known since we were young.

Blood Incantation have definitely achieved what they set out to accomplish and it’s by no means executed poorly, it’s just lacking the instantaneous spark that their previous two releases encompassed.

Wild Loneliness is the fourth and best album Superchunk have recorded since returning to active service in 2010, and even stacks up next to classics from earlier in their career such as Here’s Where The Strings Come In or No Pocky For Kitty.

Ultimately, though, Krüller is best experienced not in its individual segments but as an overwhelming whole. The meld of muscle and mechanisation still demands that listeners hand themselves over entirely. So stay plugged in through the epic title-track’s spiral down into an inevitable acid ending and you’ll be haunted by the ghosts in this machine.

Synchro Anarchy is a triumph for both Voivod and progressive thrash. Not only is the quartet’s ability to remain so adventurous, skilful and consistent utterly remarkable (considering how long they’ve been at it), but they continue to showcase how perfectly such seemingly disparate styles can be merged.

FTHC is likely to hit hardest with those who have grown with Frank, witnessing his evolution and the ways in which it’s helped chronicle their own. That’s not to say there’s not much to enjoy for new fans, though, who will no doubt find an empathetic ally in a man whose honesty and anger and heart continue to inspire.

This is a record that plays like Eddie’s soul is plugged directly into a jukebox skipping through different eras of music history.

From the moment six-and-a-half-minute opener Almost Always shimmers into existence, it is a record that mesmerises without compromise, and which could not have come from anyone else.

Musically, Requiem is heavy but not stodgy, fresh but familiar, and accessible without ever feeling forced. Its wisest creative decision, though, is keeping things lean and mean. At just nine tracks, there are few moments that feel anything less than essential.

The end result is hardly jam-packed with jump scares, but there are more than enough surprises here to keep you wondering what the hell might be coming next.

Ultimately, there are enough ideas on display here to just about see Twin Atlantic right. While it may not be a clear-cut success, Transparency does prove once again that its creators have it in them to be bloody great.

While the album ends quietly, with Kamikaze and the subtly moving It Floated, it’s that sense of fun that burns brightest in its aftermath.

The BBC Sessions is a collection of impossibly fluent songs delivered in momentary fashion by one of America’s great bands. To hear them doing their thing without the clutter and fuss to which they have increasingly fallen prey is a wonderful thing.

The result is an album which is remarkable on every level.

On Motorheart The Darkness’s timekeeping is impeccable and with songs about shagging droids their virility proven beyond doubt. As for staying on the right side of that fine line, give the boys credit; two outta three ain’t bad.

This might be a more reflective, experimental IDLES, but they remain a band filled equally with anger, humour and vitriol. And, whichever direction they take, it still sounds fantastic.

For Thrice fans, Horizons/East is another strident step forward from one of post-hardcore’s definitive outfits. For listeners at one of life’s soul-stretching crossroads, though, it could serve as so much more.

Bottom-heavy power dynamic shines on tracks like Dark Horse, a parade of colossal bass drums and Demi’s pseudo-organ effects wizardry, which then reveals its true colours with a flourish of doomy, speaker-blowing riffs.

Engine Of Hell is not only a testament to her seemingly endless talent, but an unadulterated glimpse at a human being’s soul.

This won’t be an album for everyone. But for those with an appreciation for the cold, dark and depraved, it’s a hellscape worth falling into.

This knowingly middle-aged iteration of Limp Bizkit is far more likeable and less obnoxious than their younger self. But even so, they’ve lost none of their Big Durst Energy, and the knowing winks have only become bigger and knowing-er.

A long-overdue show of individual brilliance.

Hushed And Grim is a triumph from a band who have long been the final word in balancing the intelligent and the primal.

As with 2000’s perfect Midian – and this is the band’s best record since – Existence Is Futile’s magic is a surge of inspired creativity and pyrotechnic energy.

Not every single one of these 16 tracks is totally essentially considering their already-enormous discography, but anyone who wants less Every Time I Die is quite simply a fool – especially when the band are on such blistering form as they are here.

Deconstructive, deliberate and exquisitely designed, The Myth Of The Happily Ever After is the sound of a world-class band making truly world-class music. The only thing more exciting than every bar of its 11 songs is the promise of where Biffy Clyro might go next.

Eternal Blue is dizzying, cleansing and frightening. You need to delve deep to find your place within it, but that journey is the very thing that makes this album so interesting. It’s an entrance that brings darkness and beauty in shades of heavy that you haven’t quite encountered before.

Despite Tom’s superlative guitar playing tying it all together, the way it switches genres and atmosphere so chaotically ultimately makes it too uneven to really work as an album. Still, there are plenty of gems here, and – given how disparate it all is – probably something for everyone, no matter where your musical tastes lie.

Fearless album, an absolutely banging document of the last two years that will resonate far beyond his existing audience.

Musically there’s a touch more considered atmosphere than on predecessor AmeriKKKant, but this new Ministry line-up – featuring former Tool bassist Paul D’Amour and guest appearances from the likes of Billy Idol guitarist Billy Morrison and former Megadeth man David Ellefson – still knows how to rage.

This latest actualisation of their sound is just the beginning of an exciting new trajectory of musical exploration and experimentation.

A set of excellent songs. It’s a cohesive, largely understated collection, too.

The end result is not only an album that will delight diehard Tom DeLonge fans, but one that lovers of anthemic and occasionally experimental alt.rock will enjoy too.

By no-holds-barred closer The Scythes Remorseless Swing, it’s hard not to be overwhelmed with sheer awe just seeing these death metal progenitors getting back to murderous business. Killer stuff.

A staggering statement of endurance, diversity and sheer unbending power. Bow down to the kings.

In general this is a more reflective, far darker album than we’re used to from the former god of partying.

Now there’s much more to them. Forget the sophomore slump, Comfort To Me is the sound of a band on the rise.

Every single one of these songs flags up Bad Waitress as a genuinely exciting prospect.

The uninitiated are likely to be overwhelmed by such a glut of material, particularly when it takes so many stylistic detours and about-turns. It’s worth the endeavour, though, because there’s some sublime music here, deep and diverse, which has plenty to offer nerds and newbies alike.

Senjutsu is simultaneously more diverse than its predecessor but somehow manages to concentrate its punches. It’s the sound of a band that continues to strive when it’s already honed its craft to perfection.

The Mutt’s Nuts is the absolute dog’s bollocks, and well worth a sniff.

Staggering third album GLOW ON changes the game once again. Upping the experimentation and layering on unprecedented emotional textures, its mixtape-alike 35-minute sprawl is more intricate, engaging and ambitious while feeling simultaneously even further laid back.

Halsey’s If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power is an album best served whole. Sure, it’s packing some infectious, radio-ready choruses, but there is so much more to unpack, with each listen peeling back layers of heartache but also dexterity and adventure, and much-needed sense of danger that their peers are lacking.

While this is certainly different from anything they have released previously, it is unmistakably an Amenra album – they’ve lost none of their razor sharp edge and are every bit as crushingly oppressive as they’ve always been. However, De Doorn has allowed for them to explore a much wider range of the emotional spectrum that their music is skilfully able to express and, as such, breaks down the boundaries that they have spent decades expanding on and pushing the limits of.

The solos are absolutely enormous and are some of the most interesting song writing that they’ve produced to date.

Katakana builds from scratchy verses to a drilling riff, Missile Command boasts an undulating Sergio Vega bassline par excellence and album closer Rodan summons an oversized riff worthy of its kaiju namesake. Yet so often it’s the little surprises, the achingly cool flourishes, that impress here.

To some, Infinite Granite is a further step away from what they want. To others, a step further into it. For Deafheaven, it’s simply who they are. Truthfully, it’s who they’ve always been. No surprises here.

You have a record that defies easy categorisation, reminiscent only of the restlessness embodied by outfits like Liars. If their music feels trippy and amorphous, their lyrical focus is often surprisingly specific.

By the time this EP draws to a close, it’s fair to say that its creators haven’t really strayed too far from their core sound – something they’ll want to build on with future releases – but when the songs just work and everything sounds so fun, it feels rather greedy to ask for more.

Foxing, however, just keep getting better. Who knows what they’ll sound like by the time the next emo reboot kicks in. But, for now, Draw Down The Moon makes them a champion in their own field.

Kristin has created the heaviest, most intense album you’re likely to hear this year, one that makes a tremendous addition to what is becoming one of the most idiosyncratic bodies of work in modern experimental music.

It has evolved beyond the blueprint they set out on their first album to expand their sound into new and exciting territory. Whether you’re a fan of slowcore, grunge, doom or shoegaze there is a song for absolutely everyone to enjoy on this album. Simply put, it is a must listen.

It broadens and deepens the story that began with that album [Sex, Death & The Infinite Void], acting as a requiem to the alien character of Roe. ... It’s simply eight tracks of lovely, rousing rock opera. Whether you’re after one, the other, or both, you’re sure to be left more than satisfied.

At no point is it bad, and sometimes it’s rather good, but nothing here is particularly essential.

It’s a record influenced by Sabbath and Sleep, Power Trip and Pantera – and it shows through proudly.

Hideaway could perhaps have done with a few more leftfield moments, then, because while it’s breezy and over before you know it, that’s largely because the majority of it is in one sedate speed setting.

Calm and collected when it needs to be but by no means lacking in heart and passion, this album is a fine collection of songs by an artist intent on forging her own path.

It’s a joyous riot from start to finish, and all comes together to form a loveable, middle-fingers-up record that furthers the recent work of bands like Dream Nails, Drones and Nova Twins in demonstrating the strength of modern UK punk.

On the whole, they should definitely be commended for their ambition in mixing things up at this stage of the game, the result making for a compelling, quite fascinating collection.

This is a record just as colourful as its creator’s hair (which is handy). And while rapping about Bill Gates, Elon Musk, The Office’s Michael Scott and members of One Direction in closer See You In The Future might prove one step too far for some, for everyone else it’s all just a part of the ride. Indeed, this is very weird shit. But it rules.

Atreyu’s act of streamlining has sanded many of their edges clean off, leading to moments that sound like they’ve been made by anyone but the actual authors.

This incarnation of Fear Factory is bowing out with a tense, aggressive and satisfying final act. There are exactly zero signs of them adopting fresh approaches, but dissing them for this is like criticising chocolate for continuing to taste chocolatey.

Here, remastered, it sounds even huger than ever. And on the bonus North American Tour Live ​’75 discs, the power of these songs live is captured in all its steamrolling glory.

You can’t help but feel that some creative tension and idea-bouncing in there might have led to some more invention and exploration in the album’s midsection. Nevertheless, though, this is still an impeccably delivered slab of hard rock fun.

The band’s desire to suffuse their sound with new tones and textures is admirable and frequently pays dividends, but there are moments when that drive to evolve leads them to either cleave too close to other bands or stray too far from their own fundamentals.

No Gods No Masters is one of the coolest, most vital releases of 2021, let alone one by a band some 30 years and seven albums into their career. Listen and learn.

BUMMER is an album where cleopatrick excel more than they struggle. Their sound could do with a little streamlining, but for a debut LP, this is a bold and at times very enjoyable effort.

There’s still a lot that will be familiar to longtime fans, but the most impressive thing is how passionate Rise Against remain. Twenty years in, and their revolutionary fire is still as relevant and as sadly needed as ever.

As much as the impressive company, what stands out on this compilation is the undimmed volatility of these songs, waiting to be set off.

As it is, the highlights just about mitigate the lack of surprises, making it a Red Fang album with a bite that doesn’t grip quite as much or as hard as we’ve been used to.