While perhaps lacking the simple yet intricate beauty of his purely instrumental work, In The Furrows of Common Place is another strong release from Ghedi, and fans of Chris Wood, Alasdair Roberts, Seth Lakeman and other modern folk luminaries will find much to enjoy in this confident and atmospheric collection of songs.

It confirms how they’ve always been a band that have explored human emotion in deep, meaningful ways but Distractions feels like something more, like the beginning of a fresh chapter in their story.

Open Door Policy is quite possibly the best Hold Steady album since 2008’s Stay Positive.

An album that’s up there with their best, one of their most powerful and cohesive statements to date.

Me And Ennui… is pure articulation. Just when you think that Sarah Mary Chadwick has shone a light on every one of her warts, here comes the ‘and all’.

Undaunted by the pressures they continue to face, Virginia Wing present a disarming form of resistance to life’s troubles.

In the face of personal and public devastations, the friends have avoided inertia and constructed a garish and cathartically atonal album that unbelievably manages to avoid catastrophe.

Throwing a light on the minutiae of his fraying psyche doesn’t always make for the easiest of listens. No longer buoyed by adolescent concerns, Alec Ounsworth may not be in the happiest of states. But if you heed closely you’ll hear the sound of one man’s combing for moral redemption amidst societal and individual collapse. And that deserves applause.

Django Django’s style is well-worn by now, and a little more stylistic or structural invention wouldn’t go amiss, but Glowing In The Dark still delivers the goods with ease.

Distinguished by its wide eyed, maddeningly flamboyant mélange of ideas, these Perth psychonauts’ latest is so potent you risk getting tinnitus and/or a contact high from each monolithic twist and turn.

What keeps you coming back to Good Woman is a sense of hope and optimism that shines through – that sense that, despite the grief and pain, there’s always better times ahead. Maybe it’s exactly the sort of record we all need in these times, and it certainly contributes towards this being the best Staves album of their career to date.

This is a characteristically strong, uncharacteristically sloppy (in a good way!), album by one of the few remaining shining lights of rock music. Greatness is almost a given at this stage.

Black Country, New Road are no gods, but this inventive and likeable album should earn them a million or so disciples.

The full blast of bass and guitars from Nic Bueth and Alex Sprogis that respectively fortify tracks like The Big Curve, Decoration and Slideshow are as grotty, inexorably heavy and domineering as the world frontman Charlie Drinkwater finds himself lashing out at.

Occasionally the sparkly pop stylings and dependably profound poetic musings give the record an air of interchangeability, but this minor parlour trick merely invites an opportunity to explore the contents further at a pace comfortable to the listener.

Alive After Death is a record interesting enough to satisfy those with a taste for the transgressively predictable, as long as you don’t scrutinise it too much.

Somehow, there’s an odd clarity to be found amongst all the noise, distortion and decay. The Body might have looked to their past in finding the sound for this album, but in creating this slab of grief and anger, they’ve managed to be uncannily prescient. This is probably one of the most relevant and affecting albums of 2021.

Weezer have made one of their most catchy and insightful records to date.

This is a good, and sometimes great album, that feels like it’s a few tracks short of being a masterpiece.

Surrounding contemporary anxieties within a collage of expertly designated snatches of melody, the record feels slight at first glance before eventually revealing its complexities to the listener, without ever suggesting notions of self-pity.

A Common Turn is a questing and provocative record that’s both remarkably dynamic and audaciously exposing.

It’s not the sort of record you look to for big surprises or revolutionary moments, but if you’re looking for an excellent pop-soul record from an artist who’s going to be around for years to come, you can’t go wrong.

Spellbinding debut album, its vivid subject matter dealing with depression, sexuality, prejudice and matters of the heart with an uplifting old-school feel complemented by celestial vocals.

Had they been performed by any other band, these regularly mawkish and sorrowful lyrics could have tipped the album over into an joyless torrent of petulant whining but the Danish rockers’ mish mash of catchy hooks and reflective self-awareness skilfully instil just the right amount of vitality so as to prevent that outcome from happening.

Travelling beyond the accepted norms of the swarm of post punk girl groups operating at the same time, this Technicolor tinged album somehow melds droning krautrock sections and psychedelic experimentalism into its jaunty street hoodlum doo-wop core.

The layered and intricate soundscapes that embody Isles are testament to the vast and diverse musical influences that Ferguson and McBriar have explored and savoured over the years. Bittersweet and introspective, yet hopeful and spellbinding.

It may have been written and recorded in double quick time, but Won’t You Take Me With You is still an impressively assured, fully realised record.

Stripped back tracks, smart beats, punchy bass, and Williamson’s dextrous barked delivery are all in place, and it seems that the band are in their dis/comfort zone.

In spite of all that’s going on, the ground that Shame manage to cover, it all hangs together brilliantly. Drunk Tank Pink is a great album, from whatever angle you look at it.

With The World Only Ends When You Die, Skyway Man has come up with a boldly visionary record that is bursting with ideas and provides unexpected twists and turns at every corner.

Greenfields is a fine reminder of just how legendary a songwriter Gibb is, and while there’s no big surprises contained within, a Volume 2 would be a very welcome thing.

Half Japanese have once again smashed it out the park, this time with a bewitching assortment of rubbery love songs and caustic noise, all centred on the subjects we truly wanna hear about: celebrities, Hollywood monsters and unrequited love (often between celebrities and Hollywood monsters!).

The sound on Welfare Jazz may be more of the same glam-phetamine trash disko bomp that made the first record so distinctive – a ramshackle wad of low-end guitars that spit and burn like chip pan fires and boisterous oft intoxicated vocals with a surplus of undulating sax – but there’s something else that’s been added to their arsenal, something that was hiding in plain sight all along. The protagonist of these songs may not be all that apologetic as he pontificates of his transgressions, but he is at least man enough to put his grubby hands up and forewarn friends and lovers that he’s a little damaged. It’s a good start.

The rock history books have not been as generous to Live Skull as to their contemporaries, but with luck this crazy melodic record will go some way to restoring them as kings and queens of the urban jungle.

Akin to falling asleep next to an electric fire whilst snow begins to fall, Camila Fuchs have created an extrasensory gift of a record, one that is affectionate, woozy and a comforting delight in these most taxing of times.

An exuberant and heartening spin of the songwriting wheel, a carefree and not overthought documentation of how creativity can be harnessed and fledgling ideas brought to realisation More importantly, it’s a valuable addition to his catalogue that should provide happiness to many.

We Will Always Love You is an emotional rollercoaster, and a lovingly put-together tapestry that signals The Avalanches entering the 2020s as vibrant as ever.

In all aspects has Swift built upon her work on Folklore, creating a vast soundscape of poetical stories, and it is only at the end of this album you realise that Folklore did leave you wanting. Evermore also does this, not because it doesn’t reach up to the pedestal of folklore – in contrast, it covers the more complex ground.

It’s a bold, contemporary sounding record that is also aware of its broader lineage, something encapsulated by opening track Stranger Than Fiction.

Odin’s Raven Magic captures the group reconciling their actual genius with the mountains of praise heaped upon them.

The album reaches something of a climax with On Each Of The Six Fives Of The Moon, which features thick, metallic tones encircling over bleak and unforgiving terrain. Its Deathprod-like heaviness is sustaining and compelling in equal measure and, like much of the album, there’s little option but to submit to its force and embrace the imposing mass face-on.

It quickly becomes apparent that it very much deserves to be conidered equally alongside the rest of the Calexico discography and not seen as a novelty or one-off.

Opening track Last Breath is worth the price of the record alone. It provides the album’s title, all the more poetic when encountered in the grief-stricken context of the song: “I didn’t understand how beauty holds the hands of sorrow / How today can outshine tomorrow.” The production here is wonderful, with crystal clear dynamics and a real contrast between intimate and sublime.

When Megan moves away from her standard lyrical fare, perpetuating her beef with Tory Lanez on opening track Shots Fired or penning the poppy tune Don’t Rock Me To Sleep, the results are some of the best moments on the album, and if these aspects of her style had been explored some more it could have made for a more diverse LP, but Good News is still chock-full of catchy hooks, stellar verses and feisty attitude.

Plastic Hearts is a change in direction that works really well. With names like Billy Idol and Joan Jett guesting, there’s even a sample of a Stevie Nicks song in case you were any doubt that this is a Miley Cyrus album that your dad would feel comfortable listening to.

Following some recent setbacks in his personal life, Luke Abbott has got round to making, for all intensive purposes, his impression of a breakup record, and damn, if it isn’t a total knockout.

All in all, Shadow Of Fear is a well-rounded release.

Night Network may not be the 12 tracks which would shake the person who doesn’t like The Cribs out of their most curious position. But it is 12 more assertions of greatness from a band who you really should like.

III is not a record that makes too many demands on the listener’s attention: its instrumentation is calm, unintrusive and balearic, and the songs tend towards a slow evolution rather than a formal structure per se.

The message of the record is as faultless and as invigorating as the field recordings of raindrops and tributaries that gush over it. Ana Roxanne won’t be hampered by other people’s definition of her; her musical genius will encapsulate multiplicities and blossom of its own accord.

Third albums can be tricky, but for Fogarty, this is a challenge he grasps with both hands, coming up with an all-encompassing record that explores many musical possibilities.

Molchat Doma are having a blast reclaiming their heritage and proving themselves to be a more than an entertaining chip off the old Bloc.

It’s an album that’s full of poise and confidence, which bodes well for her future.

AC/DC do their thing, and it works.

Over three tracks in under an hour, the microtonal performer traces a luminous and defiant path against the historic threat of religious tyranny, delivering a provocative expression of devotional purity.

Monument is a record that you’d wish didn’t need to exist. But its staggering, sobering beauty will linger in your mind long after its 55-minute running time elapses.

The adoption of low energy, skeletal electronic instrumentation serves to shine a light on her often brittle and vocoder cloaked vocals. A sensation of emotional fatigue circles above proceedings, as the music elicits the haunting effect that this ongoing lack of human intimacy is having on all of our psyches.

They’ve produced one of the very best albums of the year, despite the long gestation period.

This is an astonishing work, one that highlights Kanaan’s remarkable worldview, that you’ll unconsciously find yourself gravitating back to, time and time again.

Contemplative and unstable, the record is a 12-track paean to the benevolent act of taking domestic solace in retreating. ... William Basinski is back within his element, and we should take all comfort in that.

Whilst the record is without doubt clamorous, murky and often times boisterous, it’s in no way petulant or immovable.

Tunng presents Dead Club may be their darkest album to date but it is arguably their finest too. ... A creative peak even for a band with more than 15 years’ experience together.

Earth To Dora finds him in a relatively peaceful place – and it will have a similarly calming effect on Eels fans too. More than 20 years on, this band are still very good at what they do.

Loftin and his colleagues have succeeded in creating a mood of joy and togetherness.

Minogue more than holds her own here. The sound is largely fresh and pays genuine homage to carefree nights at the disco with gusto, charm and flair, all qualities that Minogue has in spades.

The structure of the album is beautifully crafted, with each of the tracks like pages of a calendar that detail Croll’s life, presenting a personal diary window of sorts into his world.

Generally it seems Dizzee fares better when bouncing off others’ contributions. This makes E3 AF a step in the right direction, and while it doesn’t quite display the finesse of his first three albums it’s a welcome trip down memory lane.

Packed with oodles of overdrive and a dissociated, ambient feel, Sour Cherry Bell is another enjoyable release from an artist who is rapidly reaching the top of the dream-pop scene.

Both artists possess in spades the ability to make affecting, heavyweight emotional music. This emotional intensity and willingness to continuously explore the possibilities of sound (heavy or otherwise) is what May Our Chambers Be Full pivots around over the course of these seven incredible songs.

As uneven as Hey Clockface can become, there are still enough reminders of Costello’s genius scattered across the album. After all these years, his aim is still mostly true.

Musically, it’s more ambitious and further reaching than any of Brun’s previous records.

For all of its strengths, the album is somewhat let down by its monstrous length – 78 minutes, to be exact. That’s not to stay that Cunningham and his collaborators can’t hold the listener’s interest for the entire running time (they can), but that the whole experience can be overwhelming and a little draining.

Yet another indication that Ty is going from strength to strength.

Lopatin dispenses with radio’s interchangeable verse chorus verse format, instead replicating the labyrinthine ways the internet once promised formerly unreachable music might become graspable before being commoditised.

It’s a stately and urgent reclamation of intent from all involved. If you expected a band with such a long and storied history to ever be elegiac or pedestrian that would be a grave misstep. Under Marshall Allen’s all seeing eye, they’ve untethered themselves from the oppressive gravity of their past and launched themselves head first off back into the furthest reaches of outer space from whence they first came.

It represents a substantial advance in sound and scope from Amidon’s earlier approaches to folk material.

With Getting Into Knives, The Mountain Goats provide us with a smorgasbord of robbed emotions and new, neon-backdropped friends – and we need it more now than ever.

Listening to the music in the knowledge of its back story makes for a poignant experience, a reminder of how music can be an incredibly cathartic means of expression for both listener and artist.

Off Off On captures something of how the world is right now. It has moments that encourage us to turn off and seek escape, but at the same time also provides energy to help us to re-engage with the world. In short, it’s a perfect soundtrack to help us through these pandemic-dominated times.

The Instrumentals album is naturally a looser, less magnified affair, consisting of collages of the exploratory, freeform acoustic guitar improvisations that each day of the recording sessions would begin with. They showcase a different side to her creative process, but it’s undoubtedly on Songs where the emotional impact is located.

This is an album which, although it encompasses many feelings, never seems to fully settle on one – and therefore it’s both incredibly prescient and incredibly easy to get lost in its whirlwind wonderland of bittersweet narratives.

Of all of the guest-heavy Gorillaz albums, this is by some margin the leanest, meanest and grooviest set of the lot.

This is a fantastic box that will occupy fans for the next few weeks and months, but it’s also a superb gateway into the world of Tom Petty for those who like both pretty things and great music (and have a few bob to spare).

Letter To You provides both a moving thematic adjunct to Springsteen On Broadway and a timely and welcome burst of the sheer euphoria that only the E Street Band can inject. It also, importantly, demonstrates the band’s unacknowledged flexibility.

Optimisme is more Garageland than Graceland in its approach.

Fake It Flowers is a very well-accomplished debut, featuring a consistent, enjoyable style, a fully-formed persona and catchy tunes which speak to the head and heart.

A compendious set of cinematic, soothing and poignant songs, showcasing a deeper maturity not only in Melua’s voice, but also in her songwriting.

This is never going to replace your favourite Kevin Morby album, and it’s unlikely that it will make him new fans, but it feels like the kind of private delight that great artists bestow on their fans for their loyalty from time to time. Sundowner is Morby’s Harvest Moon, his Nebraska, his Hejira – a statement of intent made in the quietest way possible.

Simply put, no one does electronic music quite like Autechre.

Dark Hearts is a mixed bag: it has many well-crafted moments and some stellar production choices, and there aren’t any outright bad songs; the likelihood is that some of the less obviously pop moments have the potential to grow over time.

For a first solo work, Serpentine Prison is an excellent sidestep from Berninger’s vitally important and highly respected day job.

It may not be a record that grabs you by the scruff of the neck, but its quiet, understated nature demonstrates an artist confidently setting off on a new chapter in her career.

There’s little time to get bored, and there’s a distinct feeling that too much of this would be overkill. But for half an hour, it’s perfect. It may have had a painful journey with hellish events at every turn but Moveys is, for the most part, heavenly.

They’re constantly trying to better themselves, and provide their listeners with new ways of looking at old feelings. As Long As You Are is an endlessly rewarding listen, and it’s certainly worth the wait.

So much of the delight of listening to music comes from the lyrical, our tacit affiliation with the rage, wit or pathos an artist wishes to project. This record goes some way to appropriate the perception of being wordless, hushed by the beauty of the world we inhabit.

It’s considerably better than it has any right to be, made up of a surprisingly satisfying mix of bright modern pop, standard club bangers and Billie Eilish-esque miserablism.

Under The Spell Of Joy didn’t quite achieve the transcendent ritualistic occurrence Death Valley Girls pointed to, but it should still win them a few zealous new converts.

Shiver may be a step out of Jónsi’s comfort zone, but it’s a step that seems to have reinvigorated him.