This compilation, the fourth and possibly final in their Switched On series, collects some of the various EPs, compilation tracks and tour 7″s they made between 2000 and 2005, along with some deep cuts that stretch back to the Mars Audiac Quintet era and proves the critics wrong.

They inch ever closer to the boundaries of the mainstream with this simmering assortment.

Banane Bleue is a contrast of blissful pop music and highly contemplative soundscapes, juxtaposing our ideal version of living and a difficult outer reality. This record captures the essence of ‘the blue banana’, a place too vast to navigate and too complex to fully understand.

It all confirms Believer to be a suite of disaggregated, miniature sonic tapestries from a pair of young Scandinavian polymaths that delivers a welcome reminder of music’s endless capacity to surprise and delight.

In lesser hands this mélange of vocalists and styles would be an unholy mess, but with experienced mood masters Raymonde and Thomas at the tiller In Quiet Moments is holistic audio balm to soothe, hug and give hope in these ‘unprecedented times’ and beyond.

This is sensitive, heartfelt and resolute rock music that shuffles its feet while looking at the stars.

With this fun and obnoxiously reverent album, they should get the inmates rioting.

On this outing, greater rewards arrive from a more engaged, active approach to listening, one that helps ensure that nuances and small details are appreciated. It might not ultimately have quite the impact of their earlier work but it still has much to offer, showing them still capable of responding to new creative surroundings and edging forward with small refinements to their sound.

In Furneaux, a travelogue split into two durational phases, is explicitly built around archival sound recordings accrued from across the globe over a 10-year period, and emerges as a ferocious and often anarchic statement of intent from the noise composer.

Together with the slimmed down line-up, Nature Always Wins feels like the start of a new chapter for Maxïmo Park. They’ve always been better than a ‘landfill indie’ punchline, and they prove it in spades on their seventh album.

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 is the penultimate songs that show some signs of invention.

It’s a clear attempt to deliver a more mature, varied work than Nothing Great About Britain, and in that it succeeds. But considering his lofty aspirations, there’s nothing here that others rappers like Dave or Akala – both blessed with greater emotional intelligence, intellectual gravitas and grasp of social and political issues – haven’t done better.

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.

A Billion Little Lights is a good album when heard in isolation, but it pales in comparison to those albums that inspired its creation.

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’.

Ultimately though, Music is a case of too much filler, too little killer, even when divorced from its controversial origins.

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.

Legacy+ shows two sides of the Kuti coin that, while inevitably reflecting and respecting the history of Fela, also show his restless quest for the future and what that holds carries on with subsequent generations.

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.

It’s a conflicting record, filled with swells and dry spells, but the forecast is generally clear in all directions.

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.

It is not instantly recognisable as Groove Armada, but it shows how the pair have moved on from constant festival sets and gigs to managing farms in France, as Andy Cato now does. Clearly they still want to have a good time, but the stress is now on music that feels older than it does new.

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.

CYR may be a good record, but even with its overblown 20-song length it leaves the listener wanting more, given the context of this band’s capabilities.

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.

Billed as the spiritual successor to 2017’s Flying Microtonal Banana, sadly a lot of this new record feels like exactly that, the musical equivalent of the yellowy orange filter Hollywood tends to put on films and TV shows to indicate that it’s the Middle East. Yet as flippant as that may sound, there are still some flashes of innovation.

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.

Adulkt Life prove middle aged doesn’t mean middle of the road.

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.

Confetti is a dependable album with recipe staples, but to keep future interest piqued, something new is now required in the mix.

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.

Positions is a perfectly fine light pop/RnB album by the numbers, but Grande’s relentless work ethic over the last few years means that the shine on her songs is starting to dull a bit.

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.

The decision to feature Marcus Mumford of Mumford & Sons on Lay Your Head On Me is baffling but not disastrous, as a soulful guitar lick dances around earnest vocals about honesty and intimacy. Trigger featuring Khalid is woefully boring, his low-key delivery rubbing up against sludgy chords and a weird mixed metaphor in the hook. Rave De Favela is by far the best track of the record, with hard-edged 4×4 beats, novel sound design, infectious syncopation and lively performances from MC Lan, Anitta and BEAM.

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.

Love Goes wallows too much in its comfort zone to be truly memorable.

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.