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.

All Thoughts Fly is undoubtedly a peculiar album, but absolutely one well worth investigation.

Blue Hearts finds him upping the ante yet again.

While some fans will always have their favourite Deftones album (White Pony being the most popular), it’s becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish what their best album is, especially when they’re in form as hot as this.

Róisín Machine sees the singer charismatic, confident and in control, and Barratt’s beats accompany that mood perfectly. Accept no imitations, this album has some of the best electronic music you’ll hear all year.

The Pineapple Thief’s latest work is a positive reflection of prog rock in the 21st century asserting, after all this time, how underrated they are. Let them be a mystery no more: on Versions Of The Truth, this band bear the torch of prog rock, and it burns still.

With Apple A. G. Cook shows plenty of potential, but ultimately more consistency is needed with his songwriting if he is to really make his mark.

It’s better than some actual Sonic Youth albums, and that alone makes it an essential listen. A thriller from the first second to the last.

It’s unsubtle and it’s inconsistent, but Ultra Mono has an awkward frankness to it that isn’t entirely without charm.

A heady amalgam of Ibiza chill-out anthems and Carnival bangers, with poignant choruses and repeated minor chords, ACR Loco is a stomping reminder to celebrate the eccentric pleasures of life in multicultural cities and the liberating night life they offer.

The Ascension is a far superior and more ambitious album [than 2010 album The Age Of Adz].

Shore is a glorious, life-affirming collection of songs, a move to the centreground that shows his absorbing of musical influences is paying rich dividends. It has ‘future classic’ written all over it.

Epworth packs some interesting sonic tricks into this record, particularly the chaotic crescendo of interlude The Eternal Now, but overall Voyager doesn’t have the memorability or consistency to justify stepping into the limelight when semi-anonymity has served him so well.

Keys has pitched this album as genreless and, although the sonics are manifold – reggae, R&B, funk and even country – you get the sense that Keys has her eyes more on the narrative. There is genuine hope, despair, frustration and even ambivalence. In a world more in need of a key change than ever, we need this Alicia.

If you can get past the vocal onslaught and the occasional uneventful passage, it could prove more broadly rewarding over time.

Gunn’s perfectly snarling vocals amplified in intensity by the punchy production, it is a electric opener which sounds unmistakably PVRIS, just with a fresh energy.

This is not your average industrial metal album folks – this is a slab of repugnant, malignant noise made with evil intent. For all the hype and bluster surrounding the most popular metal acts, Uniform deserve recognition as one of finest purveyors of heavy metal (of any kind) anywhere in the world. They’re now six albums into their career, and they’ve never been stronger.

The album also reflects the rebellious nature of Haiku Hands, throwing two fingers to the male establishment through a sound which is provocative and tantalising, one which sets about establishing them as a new powerful female voice in the era of explicit pop.

It’s when the pop sheen is dropped and they head in a twitchy, darker direction that Hurts are at their most effective.

As with each album in the quartet’s canon, Re-Animator requires (and deserves) repeated listening. Once that is achieved then the dividends start to pay, and this darkly shaded album is revealed as a very different string to be added to the Everything Everything bow. The band continue to sound like nothing else around.

Manson has given his audience a collection of tracks that are stronger, tougher and better than they have any right to be. His ascendance led to the death of the original rock era, but his music is more vital and creative than ever. A stunning work.

Cafe Carlyle is the perfect venue for Vega, a small, bohemian and glamorous venue in Manhattan’s Upper East Side, and this fitting tribute to New York praising its riches, uncovering its faults and exploring its tragedy is as beguiling and incredible as Vega herself.

For the most part The Universal Want lives up to that triumphant return presaged in Carousels. Calling back to various touch points from Doves’ career to date, it’s a fitting summation even if not a culmination or a career peak.

Whilst it’s not quite in the same league as many of The Flaming Lips’ albums – not just The Soft Bulletin – it has plenty of worthy moments that can blossom in time.

The songs are generally short, befitting a short release, and sometimes the structural choices feel a little eccentric because of it, for example the abrupt end of Chills Me To The Bone. At times like this there’s a feeling that more could be done with the songs to make them feel complete, but as it stands Fall To Pieces is an intriguing sampler for Tricky’s present-day sound.

There’s no real new ground being broken on Agora, but it does make a good entry point if you’ve not been acquainted with Gilberto’s music before.

The album is brief, almost EP length, and doesn’t end nearly as well as it begins, but Spell My Name still features some great tunes and is proof that Toni Braxton’s smooth alto can grace a trap instrumental just as well as a Darkchild production or a slow jam.

Overall, it adds up to form an accomplished album that manages to be both outward-looking while also proud of its heritage.

Nothing As The Ideal never fails to entertain and covers much ground in doing so. It’s a case of which aspect do you like about the band at times, though: the metal side or the stoner rock side. You probably won’t be disappointed if you sit in either camp; equally, however, you may feel disappointed that you haven’t had enough of your preferred All Them Witches fix.

Another album imbued with wisdom and sharpness of mind, undoubtedly music for the slow lane. As a writer of quasi-autobiographical songs that offer uniquely considered observations on human relationships and general life detail, Gold Record proves he’s moving into a realm of his own.

Disclosure have always had an attention to detail in their production that gives the songs that much more depth, be it the irresistible breakdown one minute from the end of Douha (Mali Mali) or the fluttering arpeggios that populate closing track Reverie. And in this respect, as well as songwriting, structure and guest selection, they’re back like they never left.

Plum does little to rock an established boat. Going forward, consistency is the key Widowspeak must aim for, because if you took their top moments from across all five albums then you would have an absolute classic on your hands. Plum needed a larger smattering of their best capabilities to warrant repeated listens.

Musical diversity has been embraced to better reflect his character, whilst a positive tone remains, even when he’s examining negatives. No longer is McKenna a teenager emerging at Glastonbury, he is someone for the generation he speaks for to listen to.

Sometimes the music allows itself to just be childlike and wonderful, such as on the closing moments of final track Sue’s, but for much of Sun Racket, there’s a constant tension that makes these songs worth revisiting over and over again.

It’s atmospheric, after a fashion, but it feels overproduced and it’s often physically difficult to listen to.

The Baby is an album that, the longer you live with it, the more you grow to love it. It’s a debut that slowly winds itself into your heart, and promises even better things to come.

Flowers Of Evil is awash with religious imagery and allusions, snatches of mythology, and nature. The band is looking at the state of humanity and how progress doesn’t necessarily get us very far at all.

Hibbert’s voice certainly sounds older, perhaps even a little weaker, but it still has a communicative power that sometimes allows it to sit at the forefront of the music.

Whole New Mess has a lot to carry on its shoulders – and carry it, it does. This is a superb album, and a more than worthy companion to its sister.

She has not made Smile to impress critics, but rather as an emotional catharsis, and in some tracks this catharsis does sparkle. But it would be great if, in her next creative venture, she focused less on just her smile, as wonderful as it is, and more on the complex emotions that make up the main draw of Smile.

Bleak memories are retold here, and at times you really have to stick with Bayley with a sympathetic ear as the album extends to 16 tracks, including childhood interludes. But it’s delivered in an exuberant manner and, despite some very profound lyrics, songs such as singles Heat Waves and Your Love (Déjà Vu) would have had kids dancing at the festivals in the summer sunshine.

Quirky, idiosyncratic and unafraid to go against the grain, The Magic Gang have forged their own merry path to find success. Wide-eyed, ebullient and self assured, Death Of The Party is a welcome late summer ray of light.

While there are certainly all manner of influences on KOMPROMAT, this is an album of considerable depth and intellect that rewards careful investigation, and a well timed return from a band at the top of their game.

Nothing is overstated or overplayed and individual parts are delivered with a care and delicacy which sustains a sense of empathy and warmth. The arrangements are deft and adventurous, but never at the expense of a sense of space and a grounded quality in the music.

The deeper resonance of the piano is boosted further by judiciously deployed synth sounds and the effect is slower and more dreamlike. Quando eu era Pequenina is particularly beautiful, with its expansive piano chords and haunting synth sounds, while Os meus olhos são dois círios, rooted in electronics, is flatter but, thanks to Lina’s vocals, scarcely less beautiful.

The Front Bottoms here have underperformed with what is a tiresome collection of repetitive songs that don’t require much effort to listen to.

Girl Friday are quite clearly on their own path, and all the better for it.

It’s astonishing how much ground gets covered on Good Luck, Seeker. Sure, not every track is likely to resonate with every listener, but that’s all part of the charm: it’s a remarkable achievement that sits near, if not at, the top of the band’s entire catalogue.

If shiny, overstated hooks and operatic melodies are your thing, stick on the Twigs’ latest LP right away and you’ll have a ruddy glorious time. But for many, Songs For The General Public will be an overwhelming, even frustrating listen. The brothers wear their huge list of influences so prominently on their sleeves that it’s hard to put your finger on who they really are – and what they’re trying to say.

By the time the album’s 54 minutes have drawn to a close, you feel exhausted but in the best possible way.

What this three-hour opus does is show Matmos to still be intrepid sonic explorers, pushing the boundaries of musical orthodoxy and consolidating their unique position within the avant-garde.

This is a pleasant diversion for Whitney fans waiting for a follow-up to Forever Turned Around, and if it has the side-effect of directing people to the hitherto undiscovered treats of the likes of The Roches, Jurado and Moondog, then so much the better.

The formula is executed well, while the production and songwriting keep the Australian four-piece ahead of any imitators. ... Yes, new music is good to have and good to experience, but when the tunes become interchangeable that notion starts to feel hollow.

The album may not carry the sort of dance-fused electro-pop magnificence they’ve made before, but moving away from the more ‘expected’ type of pop song you think of when Erasure crops up in conversation seems to have worked wonders.

This is the most professional, mature, clean-sounding hit of saccharine pop the band have ever delivered, and it’s certainly their best album since Day & Age.

It never once drags or feels like a chore to listen to, for she pulls you in and keeps you enthralled for the duration. She does this across the entire album.

Schneider’s assessment of the impact of digital advances, while pessimistic, is not without nuance. ... Schneider is capable of breathtaking beauty as a writer – unafraid of exploring direct melodic communication and stirring arrangements. There is also plenty of subtlety and nuance in her writing, so this communicates honesty and sincerity more than earnestness.

Non-Secure Connection needs – and deserves – several encounters before its treasures can be fully revealed. When they are, a record to stand beside his best achievements in recent years is the result. Hornsby is a fascinating and absorbing character, and the longer his creative surge continues the better.

By the time the vocal ensemble brings Bank On It to a close, it’s clear that Twice As Tall is a novel but worthwhile fusion of disparate artists and styles.

Negrito creates a musical gallery in which each song is a well-crafted piece of folk art, bringing together fragments of genres to create something from the great unknown, something deeply provocative and enchanting. The answer to whether we’ve lost our minds yet is simple; at the end of this album, yes we have.

This band clearly has a solid vision for their sound, and with a debut this satisfying, you’ll definitely want to see where that vision takes them next – especially if that involves more experimentation.

The powerful Santiago Sunrise closes the album, confirming Even In Exile to be an undoubtedly impressive outing, both in terms of being an engaging, impactful set of songs but also as an educational exercise in shining further light on an important musician and cultural figure.

In short, it’s no puzzle to see that there’s no revolution here, and little is opposite to what you’d expect. It does, however, prove their sky remains far from blackened.

Musically it turns out to be blissful business as usual for Ernest Greene on his fourth album under the Washed Out moniker. The bittersweet sentiments remain but they are beautifully expressed and wrapped up in classy production, with a notable tension that hangs on every song.

Sex, Death & The Infinite Void resembles The Rocky Horror Picture Show if you were to watch it on a rollercoaster in the dark: it’s thrilling, coquettishly idiosyncratic, and filled to the brim with palpable pride at their lack of creative limits. If it’s one thing no critic could ever say Creeper lacks, it’s ambition, and here it really pays off.

It is inevitably an unfinished work. Studio banter is left in and some songs are mercilessly brief or feel like sketches. Nevertheless, its spacious textures, starkness and the emphasis on Molina’s understated but haunting vocal delivery mean that this music provides a window into Molina’s working process and creates a moving intimacy. It is like listening to the voices of ghosts.

At a time when mainstream house music is becoming more connected with both its past and the underground scene, ‘alternative’ interpretations like this are quickly becoming stale, and Articulation too often sounds as if it’s merely going through the motions.

Voices also feels like a celebration and validation of music itself – its capacity for profundity and to be a conduit for ideas. The world may be going through an unprecedented period of difficulty, but Voices is an album that will no doubt prove a worthy, supportive companion throughout.

Home is a groovy, infectious and deeply listenable record, recommended for all fans of repetitive electronic beats.

Welcome To Hard Times is his most magnificent album yet.

Its calmness in the face of life’s trials is truly inspiring. That something so thoughtful and positive could come from such a turbulent time is someone’s life is astounding, and showcases just what a great songwriter Alain Johannes is.

Shunning a tried-and-tested formula to focus on evolution and experimentation is always a massive risk. But by choosing to embrace their calmer, and often much darker side, the Dubliners could well have given us their masterpiece.

Like the original album, most of these songs deal with the themes of love, loss, sex and power in open, frank ways that can make for – at first – a difficult, unwieldy listen. But presented here, in a more intimate setting, the songs are more accessible, and certainly more apt for repeated listens.

Alanis Morissette has long been a rarity among her peers, more than willing to address significant, yet unsettling subject matter. Such Pretty Forks In The Road is a case in point, with inspiring lyrical touches and affecting vocal sincerity placing it among her best albums.

The Psychedelic Furs needn’t have made anything this good. Many of these songs will grow in potency in a live setting (if we ever get back to that).