Ultimately, ‘Tension’ plays like a fun, flirty night out with an old friend who isn’t the kind to burden you with her problems. Whether you’ve known Minogue for a lifetime – or just since ‘Padam Padam’ – you’ll want to lace up your dancing shoes and join the party.

It all adds up to an overlong, slightly repetitive but ultimately compelling album of two halves.

It’s an impressive step-up from an artist who was already operating miles ahead of their peers. ‘soft scars’ can be an emotionally excruciating experience, but it finds yeule connecting with their humanity in ways that seemed impossible just one year ago.

With little allegiance to one particular sound, expansive love for their heritage and bold statements in each track, ‘Chai’ is a bright declaration from a band forging their own sonic path forward all while acknowledging where they came from.

Never afraid to push boundaries or show vulnerability, James creates a compelling world of sound with ‘Gentle Confrontation’, and does so with grace. An incredible achievement.

With their third album, Nation Of Language prove their able to stretch their auditory imagination, all while sticking to their roots. In just 10 quick tracks, the NYC band demonstrate that their reminiscent sound has always been more about the future than the past.

The tightness of ‘First Two Pages…’’s singles like ‘Tropic Morning News’ and ‘Eucalyptus’ are somewhat absent, though the looser structures and decision to allow the songs room to grow, melodically and lyrically pays off.

There’s one too many generic, string-laden ballads, and a stop-start feel to the record, a frustration given how enlivening its highs are. But if anything, it feels like a record Beer has been desperate to make since the very beginning: she’s come a long way in her time in the spotlight, but now we’re finally getting to know her true sound.

The gear shifts can be jarring, but album four is actually more cohesive than it has any right to be, a fact its creator has attributed to her common thread of influence in Stony Island Arts Bank. Horns up: Corinne Bailey Rae has thrown the musical curveball of the year.

The choices and the arrangements on ‘The Land is Inhospitable…’ are some of Mitski’s most complex and richest, yet they translate to such simplicity, a statement that there is pain and love and that’s it. Those are the ingredients with which we make everything.

This love for dramatic highs and muted lows on this album makes the record a rollercoaster of emotions and sounds, and a polished and entertaining debut.

Often catchy and always from the heart, ‘Killjoy’ is a deeply human debut. Their polished sound benefits massively from the odd punk outburst, and other parts of the album feel destined for boisterous end-of-gig singalongs.

A playful record imbued with a sense of mystery and occasional glimpses of autobiography, slowly revealing itself as the cracked mirror image of ‘Róisín Machine’’s bruised optimism.

As ever, Blake’s singular vision results in electrifying and innovative electronic music.

It works as a display of real power, range and versatility – all of which Rodrigo possesses in abundance.

‘Bewitched’ enchants in its own beautiful, unique way. Richly detailed orchestral arrangements and her masterful musicality – the multi-hyphenate is an an acclaimed cellist, and studied at the prestigious Berklee College of Music in Boston – support her thoroughly Gen Z ripostes

It’s the work of an artist with a sincere appreciation for dance music and the skills to make her own galvanising bangers. Many of these songs will give you a prick of emotion at the back of your eyes – a sure sign that Romy really appreciates the healing power of a packed club floor.

On their 10th album, The Chemical Brothers remain the best in the business.

‘Back To The Water Below’ feels like a return for Royal Blood. Honouring their gut, as Kerr said they did in the studio, has manifested fertile results for their band.

It’s a project where everything has been allowed to evolve and align properly: Clay’s willingness as a songwriter to go to a place where he was once uncertain, and his courage to compose and lead with his most authentic playing yet.

These are the sharper edges that Neil let out on Biffy’s earlier work, but elevated that the pure ultraviolence of Vennart’s songwriting and madcap riffery.

Overall, ‘I Told Them’ is not only more memorable and focused than its expansive predecessor, but it’s his strongest album yet.

If their previous albums sounded like hardcore on steroids and deranged, this is the same for their brand of rock-and-roll. The album’s best moments are when The Armed get brazen with their genre experimentation.

‘WEEDKILLER’ expertly weaves public and personal politics into an impressively captivating narrative for a debut.

The best moments of the album come when the band get candid about their hardest experiences, all the while leaning into the driving, raw rock sound they were known for.

An expansive ode to human ingenuity and the boundless ability of music to foster connection.

Much of ‘Struggler’ may be unsettled but it never feels restless.

Hozier’s vocal abilities are on full display across ‘Unreal Unearth,’ but much like the album’s instrumentals, it’s his understanding of when to give more understated performances, as on gentle ‘I, Carrion (Icarian)’ or to go full-force, like on the end of pared-back ‘Unknown/Nth’, that make the songs triumph.

‘Volcano’ certainly isn’t overstuffed with ideas. Often, the uniformity in this approach – muddy vocal line that could be a chopped-up classic, and a minimal but effective bassline – mean that several of the songs meld together, struggling to stand out. .... But when they get it right, it’s hard to deny how hard it hits.

Having spent 11 years away from the studio, The Hives zapped straight back into the only mode they know: pure pandemonium. It’s about time new generations received this healthy dose of old school Hives, packed with the same intensity, goofiness – and of course, the matching black and white suits.

Despite a sprightly run time of just under 38 minutes, the pair cover vast ground, much of it new, across ‘Alchemy’. However, after several sporadic vibe changes, the album’s overall cohesion feels slightly lost, though perhaps that was the intention due to the personal circumstances in which it was created. Nonetheless, it’s clear that Guy and Howard are enjoying their newfound creative freedom to push beyond what’s expected of them.

A record, feels truly – and brilliantly – emblematic of the sharp, controlled chaos that Paris Texas have honed over a handful of previous EPs.

Where he’s inventive and precise in directing his energy, he’s able to make real uplifting and imaginative indie bops. It’s a shame this album’s not full of them. The potential is there, but he’s not quite hit it.

The shift from trap beats and hip-hop delivery to purer pop suites Malone well, proving that slowing down can be a creative advantage, especially when you’re heading in the right direction.

By going back to the sound of his early work, Scott steps back into the gargantuan shadow of his mentor. Kanye West – particularly the mechanical abrasiveness and fragmented textures of 2014’s ‘Yeezus’ – is not just an inspiration but an apparition that looms over Scott’s identity on this album.

There’s a certain power to ‘Euphoric’, but it certainly could have been a much more potent album. It’s a shame, and a missed opportunity: we don’t learn much about Georgia’s new worldview on a record that is, supposedly, dedicated to moving on from the past.

Across 11 tracks, Jessy Lanza has delivered her strongest album yet: ‘Love Hallucination’ is a record that boldly soars towards synth-pop ecstasy while retaining its experimental desire.

‘Sunburn’ still acts as a love letter to the place he was raised in, however, allowing Fike to return home not only to the relentless humid state but to himself.

Cosentino announced her solo debut the same day Best Coast announced their “indefinite hiatus”. It was a bold move, but judging by the fruits of ‘Natural Disaster’, it was worth it.

Despite its underwhelming second half, ‘Barbie’ is packed with a surprising diversity of sounds paying homage to the Mattel muse. The soundtrack has some wonderful highs and some miserable lows – but then again, it’s not all rosy in Barbie Land…

They have a way of transporting you to a precise moment or emotion. It’s why ‘The Ballad of Darren’ is so memorable and touching: you can feel it, everything, in every line sung or note played.

An elongated, yet joyous return from J Hus. Splintering the sonics between drill, dancehall, Afrobeat and hip-hop, he allows himself to explore more musical terrain than ever before, while the rapper channels his lyrical potency, struggles and romantic pursuits into one unified portrait.

The Timothée Chalamet-sampling ‘As If’ sees him defiant and refusing to change. With nods to homophobia and fentanyl addiction, it’s a modern take on bratty emo and the rest of Glaive’s debut album is just as complex.

‘IRL’ reflects a young woman fully becoming herself, not just confidently throwing her hands up but boldly letting her guard down too.

There is a sense that Lifeguard will only kick on from here, finding greater balance between the competing elements in their music while also growing in confidence when it comes to taking creative leaps.

Inspiration comes in a myriad of ways, and the talent must have the time to put these parts together and let them mature; it’s how we’ve ended up with an album as epic and impressive as this.

While the meaning part is sometimes tough to decipher – far more so than her previous work – it’s not the answer here that’s important but the journey. It takes a little time to immerse yourself in Harvey’s world, but once there, you won’t want to leave.

There are blasts of harshness (‘Go Ahead’’s fuzzed-out polemic, or ‘Scapegoat’’s bombastic crescendo) but ‘My Back Was A Bridge…’ is still, by some distance, the most accessible thing she’s ever made. Though much of its palette is drawn from ‘classic’ music of the past, however, the record’s brilliance lies in the way it doesn’t retreat from the present.

In the disarray of anxiety, touring and being thrust into the unrelenting bright light of fame, Chatten found a semblance of balance by channelling acute discomfort into a stirring, spotless debut, and what he excavated from the biting darkness is not only beautiful but promising.

It remains to be seen whether Do Nothing can use the solid foundations of ‘Snake Sideways’ as a launching pad to ascend to the giddy heights of their initial promise.

Dean may have not shed all of her growing pains, but ‘Messy’ ultimately does everything a debut should, uniting multiple stories with a clear, radiant voice.

This is a special record by a band who are not-so-quietly raising the bar for the whole British scene.

If Bain’s lyrics are poised to pull you one way on ‘In The End It Always Does’, her voice and instrumentals yank you back in the other direction – it’s disorientating, dizzying and utterly intoxicating.

‘Melodies On Hiatus’, adopts the same spaciousness of the territory it was created in, allowing Hammond Jr to spiral and sprawl out sonically. ‘Melodies On Hiatus’ may seem meandering at times, but eventually it lands where it needs to be.

‘Feed The Beast’ is a tremendously entertaining showcase for a pop star who can go deep when she wants to, but is also smart enough to understand the visceral thrill of dumb escapism.

This is a powerful, memorable collection. Accessible from the get-go, ‘Life Under The Gun’ carries a universal message while staying true to its hardcore roots.

Another blistering, brilliant missive from one of rock’s most fearless bands, on ‘Social Lubrication’, Dream Wife prove two things. Firstly, social commentary and exorcising your fury at the world don’t have to be joyless, and secondly, they’re still one of the most vital acts we’ve got right now.

‘ÁTTA’ is at least the band’s best album since 2005’s monolithic ‘Takk’ made them a household name, and at most a record that gives Sigur Rós plenty more reason to exist in adding some pure and natural soul to this cold and unfeeling world.

They’ve pitched their comeback between an emotional exorcism for Homme, but with enough fan-service for the die-hards; this is up there with their darkest, knottiest material to date, and will be appreciated all the more for it.

Presented as a 96-minute opera, his fourth studio album is a haughty gesture weighed down by its own folly, scanning instead as pathos.

The boundaries for African music are constantly moving, and across this album, Amaarae pushes them even further.

Poet Toi Derricotte once wrote that joy is in fact an “act of resistance”: listening to Monáe’s liberating latest album, you start to believe that pleasure is, too.

‘Joy’All’ proves that she’s maturing into one of pop’s foremost storytellers.

If Squid can make daring, experimental music sound as fun as this, then they will take some stopping.

It’s another tension that helps to define ‘Girl With Fish’ — a sense that nothing holds so much weight that it can’t be taken elsewhere in the next moment. While that idea perhaps keeps these songs from being as memorable as they could be, it does occasionally work, shaping the album into a really nice cut of slacker-noise.

This collaborative foray successfully breaks new ground in terms of Marshall’s solo work, further ensuring that ‘Space Heavy’ will assume a lofty standing in King Krule’s already glowing discography.

Protomartyr are at home here: growing, expanding and putting up a mirror to humanity’s driest and bleakest parts, inviting their listeners to reflect on it all.

Unlike Shears’ 2018 heart-on-sleeve solo debut, it’s pure escapism and his most effortless-sounding set since bursting out of the traps nearly 20 years ago.

It’s the brightest, most listenable collection of songs he’s pieced together in some time.

It’s gratifying to hear Young push her idea of pop beyond the spacey atmospherics of her earlier material – this is the overdue arrival of a completely credible new talent.

A ‘difficult second’ album this is not, but the big set-pieces are left wanting. .... Regardless, there’s ample to consider, decode and treasure from an artist who consistently makes poring over the lyric sheet line-by-line as much fun as the finished product.

‘The Girl Is Crying In Her Latte’ is a reminder that even now, Sparks are completely content with boldly going first, taking their music into ambitious territory no one else has been before, making it easier for other acts to (hopefully) follow suit.

‘But Here We Are’ is a beautiful, noisy celebration of brotherhood and a stark, painful exploration of loss. It is messy, gut-wrenching, ambitious and gorgeous, as the remaining members of Foo Fighters push themselves to their limits and beyond. Through it all, ‘But Here We Are’ is an undeniable reminder of the healing, unifying power of music.

There are signs on ‘Aperture’, Jadagu’s debut album, of a songwriter who is beginning to find her feet in this world. Characterised by warm, crisp synth production that will speak to Arlo Parks fans, ‘Warning Sign’ spotlights this maturity: a minimalistic, R&B-fuelled anthem of reflection that grows in leaps and bounds as more elements make their way into the mix. There’s a newfound swagger and breath of fresh air, too.

It’s an ambitious, emotional monolith of a record, with all the hallmarks of future classic status.

Sonic risks are taken, but they don’t always pay off.

The 15 impressively arranged tracks on ‘Tracey Denim’ will only bolster Bar Italia’s discography to date, ushering them, whether they like it or not, even further into the spotlight.

A record that occasionally shows steady growth, but this potential remains largely untapped.

This surprise album – despite its frequent beauty – works best as a puzzle piece rather than a standout record in its own right.

The band dub these 2022 sets as works-in-progress, and say that none of its members are precious about the songs, a problem that thankfully doesn’t bely this release. You sense even better is to come. ‘Live At Bush Hall’, then, offers a remarkable snapshot of a band in transition, one willing to push on and not let circumstances stand in the way of what they love doing most.

‘Good Lies’ puts the pair on the edge of a major breakthrough. Its pop-leaning moments are also its most exciting, and the creativity and skill with which they bridge these worlds is thrilling.

As albums go, ‘ATUM’ is an ambitious body of work and does ask a lot of its audience. But there’s also plenty on here to please any diehard Pumpkins fan.

For the most part, ‘-‘ feels like a warm but cautious hug from a sensitive friend – Dessner gives Sheeran space to say what’s on his mind without trying to crowd him. ... But most of ‘-’ is doggedly one-paced, an often drawback of Dessner’s mellow production stylings.

‘Everything Harmony’ plays like the next progression from their promising debut, and what stood out about them then is what stands out about them now. With their fourth album, The Lemon Twigs have honed in on their ability to not just lift from the past but transmute what inspires them into something imaginative and new.

It’s a record that’ll please newcomers and existing fans alike, but, given the backstory and heart poured into ‘Wait Til I Get Over’, the record existing for Jones feels like a triumph. Whether or not he brings these sounds or elements back to the group is yet to be seen, but this record will shake the walls of Hillaryville and beyond.

Personal yet relatable pop music that makes itself heard thanks to its intricacies, ‘& The Charm’ is a remarkable evolution.

Fans of Maltese’s typically lucid approach may find this impressionism frustrating, but it gradually builds an effective picture of fear. Here, his sense of scale is more nuanced and outward-facing than ever before, and in turn, Maltese’s writing will continue to become all the more captivating for it.

This is The National back from their brink and at their absolute best.

On ‘All of This Will End’, she lasers in on community, mortality and how where you’ve come from impacts where you’re going all with her indie pop prowess intact. ... A wonderful album.

‘That! Feels Good!’ is a maximalist tour de force of glossy pop sounds. A liberating collection that seeks to paint a three-dimensional picture of Ware – as “a lover, a freak and a mother”, as she sings on ‘Pearls’ – this album sees her embrace a Sasha Fierce-like alter ego in a celebration of dancing and female agency.

A rich and varied album that courses from atmospheric instrumentals (‘Interlude : Dawn’) to the smooth groove of ‘SDL’, on ‘D-DAY’ Agust D is an unstoppable, thought-provoking force, wrapping up his trilogy in peak form.

Here, on their seventh album and two decades down the line, Enter Shikari sound perhaps the most joyful they’ve ever been, and even when they become characteristically philosophical, it still comes from a place of positivity.

‘Fuse’, their first album since 1999, is precisely that: the blueprint for any alt-leaning electronic act in the pop space.

Eloise’s attempts to gently push her sound outwards are admirable and promising. There’s a disquieting hint of sourness to the distorted layers on ‘Take It Back’, while ‘Vanilla Tobacco’ is peppered with moments of record scratching. They may be far from revolutionary, but the fullness of Eloise’s new vision vibrates in these tender details.

‘Multitudes’ was written in part during an experimental and communal set of shows Feist put on through 2021 and 2022 by the same name, and 12 poetic tracks that make up ‘Multitudes’ embody the same inventiveness, intimacy and connection of that limited run of performances in the round.

For young fans just now learning the joys of heavy rock – perhaps lured in by the appearance of this band’s 1986 classic ‘Master of Puppets’ on Netflix megahit Stranger Things last year – this new record will be a fitting gateway drug. For everyone else there’s simply the reassuring thrill that, after so many decades on stage, Metallica are still capable of delivering sharp, spiky metal – and sticking it where the sun doesn’t shine.

‘FACE’ might not be flawless but even in its missteps it reflects the turbulence of modern life – and especially of the last few years. If Jimin’s mission on this record was to stretch himself creatively and distil that dissonance in these songs, it’s one he’s accomplished.

‘Higher Than Heaven’ may not be strictly personal, but it definitely sounds like an album crafted with care, skill and no small amount of flair.