With ‘The Million Masks Of God’, they’ve written something that feels similar to one – a record that traverses every corner of their sound, from beefy rock songs to string-assisted grandeur and acoustic bliss, further cementing their place as an under appreciated band to treasure.

‘Mutator’ might well find favour with fans of his distant descendants like Squid, Perfume Genius, Sleaford Mods and Black Midi. A quarter of a century on, this lost rumble from post-punk vaults finds new context, as a lesson in uncompromising art from an old master.

They imbed stories (thought-provoking, moving or entirely made up) into future-pop bops that are bright and, most importantly, fun.

This long-awaited personal and artistic rebirth is channeled through unashamed euphoria on album highlights ‘Look At The Sky’ and ‘Something Comforting’ – two of the most uplifting yet tear-jerking songs you’re likely to hear this year.

Although not every track is a total slam dunk, AJ has here crafted another successful project whose streaming numbers, singles and infectious melodies will live on in memory – just like Michael Jordan’s infamous match.

While previous album ‘Truth Is A Beautiful Thing’ was a sombre affair, a new energy saturates ‘Californian Soil’. Fizzing with club sounds and filled with bright lyricism, London Grammar are more confident, and more fun, than they’ve ever been.

‘McCartney III’’s freshness lends it to both faithful covers and complete rewrites – there’s no baggage to these songs.

‘The Battle at Garden’s Gate’ is a mixed bag of heavy metaphor and lazy observation.

They deliver a record of impressive contrasts; one that allows them to show off exactly why they’re beloved in their native Scotland, and soon beyond.

While ‘Old News’ also has a light, airy quality – every note of ‘Roadrunner’ is imbued with a deep melancholy. While it might not provide the same hit as the jubilant likes of early hits ‘Boogie’ and ‘Gold’, Brockhampton are still masters of tapping into a mood, and it’s an immersive trip as a result.

Production here is crisper and warmer than that of the original, and Swift’s vocals are, understandably, more mature.

Like most break-up albums, ‘This Is Really Going To Hurt’ is self-indulgent. There are moments of relatability, but for the most part, Taylor’s fury steamrolls everything.

Things even get a bit classic rock on the anthemic ‘All The Way’, which features Ride’s Andy Bell, but this self-produced and self-released record is DIY punk through-and-through.

Fans will be thrilled to hear her sounding so playful.

Godspeed’s new album articulates dark times, but it also presents the countermovement with breathtaking power.

While they’re an intricate, tight band in their own right, their greatest weapon on ‘New Long Leg’ is allowing Shaw’s vocals the space to make their impact, swelling and retreating at the perfect times.

Ben Howard’s fourth record sees the artist move beyond his usual methods and proves, if anything, that he has too many good ideas to stay focused. Of all the problems to have, it’s a pretty good one.

‘For Those I Love’ is not only an immaculate debut, but a beautiful record that speaks to anyone who’s ever loved and lost, anyone who might be mourning or just processing the days of youthful abandon, or perhaps those who need reminding that you can’t have shadows without the light.

Death From Above still pack a punch, but the bruise is a lot more colourful this time. ‘Is 4 Lovers’ is surely the band’s best work since their debut. And while they may never feel that vital again, they make right now feel like one helluva rush.

‘Sketchy’ takes the best, feral pulses from tUnE-yArDs’ DIY material and the richest sounds of later records in its doubling down on societal crises. If Garbus was worried about finding inspiration, she needn’t have been.

Serpentwithfeet’s warmest album yet, ‘DEACON’ is like a kind of blossoming – the result of meticulously excavating through heartbreak, and hitting on the joy waiting beneath.

The rapper’s attention to detail is undeniable – but serving up a pile of rhymes, rather than full-bodied songs with snappy hooks, can be boring no matter how skilful you are. Even the star-name features can’t really lift this skippable sequel and its samey songs, which is a shame, given Benny the Butcher’s proven penmanship.

With ‘Smiling With No Teeth’, Genesis Owusu has delivered a riveting album that underscores the power of self-knowledge, perspective and art – one that should be cranked loud.

Well-meaning and positive, ‘Zoom In’ is the aural equivalent of wishing somebody a ‘Happy Hump Day!’ over email, while wearing a daft grin. For all its flaws, this is a hard record to hate.

Bieber appears to have rediscovered his mojo, resulting in one of his most focused projects to date.

It’s a reminder that, more than just being influenced by the likes of Joan Baez and Stevie Nicks, she’s now on a par with them. Lana Del Rey is at the peak of her game – just don’t expect her to come down anytime soon.

‘Written And Directed’ is a thrilling step up from a band quietly coming into their own.

‘Revelación’ retains the confidence that shone through on her last record.

Lynn throws things back even further with a spirited version of ‘Keep On The Sunny Side’, written by Ada Blenkhorn and popularised by hillbilly originators – and two-thirds female – the Carter Family in the late 1920s. There’s new material too, but the message is always the same, with the focus on women’s innate strength and capabilities.

As a record ‘The Art of Losing’ also holds up a reflection which is both painful and familiar – it captures the unpredictable, spinning chaos of grief with a searing precision that’s hard to turn away from.

On a lesser album, the eclecticism might lead to a lack of coherence, but this record is always threaded through with Beer’s diaristic lyricism. With its consistent, gut-punching honesty and witty wordplay, you’ll always find something special on ‘Life Support’.

Breezy and club-ready standout ‘What’s Next’ isn’t too dissimilar to ‘Laugh Now, Cry Later’; the quietly simmering ‘Wants and Needs’, which features a glittering star turn from Lil Baby, evokes some of the more brooding parts of ‘Scorpion’; and ‘Lemon Pepper Freestyle’ is the kind of exuberant freestyle cut that we know Drake likes to close his projects with.

We’re unlikely to be totally rid of guitars on a Kings Of Leon album any time soon, but there are more daring rhythms and more sophisticated production here.

This catchy and characterful album already feels like a job well done. When this girl’s having fun, we are too.

With lyrics that encompass the reality of ageing with all its wisdom and regrets, and with music that employs the deftness of touch that can only come with long-term honing, Arab Strap have delivered their defining record.

Aside from this one harrowing moment, ‘Nature Always Wins’ is very much an album packed with joyful pop songs and introspective anthems.

Soaring closer ‘The Room It Was’ reminds us that, even after 10 years in the game, there’s enough punch and gusto behind this band to swerve overall disappointment, despite a lack of inventiveness and some lacklustre songwriting. ‘The Shadow I Remember’ undoubtedly packs enough muscle to excite at Cloud Nothings’ return to chaotic live shows.

‘Carnage’ is arguably Cave and Ellis’ best record since The Bad Seeds’ latter day reinvention on 2013’s ‘Push The Sky Away’, or maybe even ‘Abattoir Blues’. It’s certainly two master craftsmen at the peak of their melodramatic powers.

An album of stunning emotional clarity that sees Baker’s words sent skyward with help from the beefy instrumentation of a full band.

‘For Those That Wish To Exist’ isn’t exactly the kind of sonic reinvention one-time scene mates Bring Me The Horizon pulled off with 2019’s ‘Amo’, but it pushes Architects into unexplored territory and a bold new future where even bigger venues and audiences surely await.

Overall, ‘times’ is an incredibly cohesive collection of slide-across-the-kitchen-floor dance-pop bangers that encourage you to hold on to the good times. SG Lewis’ long-awaited debut album is a much-needed beacon of light.

‘Conflict Of Interest’ could sit on the same shelf as Dave’s ‘Psychodrama’ as an album that depicts honest tales of London through the art of true lyricism, a tradition that will never die out.

The highlights aren’t enough to make this album feel as vital as top-notch Sia efforts – namely, 2014’s ‘1000 Forms Of Fear’ or 2016’s ‘This Is Acting’. For the most part, these are reasonably catchy pop songs that become forgettable after their last chorus.

‘As The Love Continues’ is an album that opens impressively but falls short at times during its second half.

It’s a challenge to come away from ‘Death By Rock And Roll’ with much of a sense of who The Pretty Reckless really are. A pastiche of their epic rock ambitions? Something deeper? It’s that tension that frustrates and fascinates.

There have been plenty of albums borne out of the pandemic (Swift’s ‘Folklore’ era) and some whose recording wrapped up before it all went to pot (Dua Lipa’s ‘Future Nostalgia’), but few bridge the gap between the old and new world quite like ‘Who Am I?’ The band capture their optimism of a new life worth living, but never shy away laying bare the challenges of doing so in times like these.

It’s the naturalness in how Claud pulls it off that makes ‘Super Monster’ feel so exceptional. Dance, cry, think about someone in particular, fall in love with it overnight.

‘Glowing In The Dark’ travels through endless landscapes, erratically veering from sun-drenched psych-pop (‘Right The Wrongs’) to video-game instrumental weirdness (‘The Ark’) and acoustic bliss (‘The World Will Turn’). Vitally, though, its feet never touch the ground, and the illusion is never broken.

On ‘TYRON’, Slowthai roars.

After a year that took so much, the return of the Foos feels like the culture getting back in credit. Consider the record’s closing track, ‘Love Dies Young’, which sparkles with effervescence that the last 12 months have lacked – it’s one of the best songs the band have ever put their name to.

‘Flowers for Vases/descansos’ rakes back the debris and leaves Hayley Williams exposed. Sowing new seeds, it’s an approach that reaps rewards.

Their peak may be years away yet, but this is still some of the most exciting music you’ll hear until then; I’m not sure what more you could ask of a debut.

With so many influences laid bare, it does take until seven-minute-long crescendoing closer ‘Saintless’ to truly showcase what they can achieve musically.

The result is an album that pulses with energy, one that’s not a dancefloor record in the traditional sense – we can’t see Diplo dropping any of these tracks into his inevitable socially distanced Las Vegas comeback set at some point in late 2021 – but one with an insistent groove woven into its 10 delicately emotive songs, which deal with love in all its messy permutations.

Allen’s lo-fi production does nothing to dispel the notion that we’re eavesdropping on his innermost thoughts. At a time where many encumber sleepless nights and intense self-reflection, Puma Blue’s debut may well provide a brief moment of relief for those lost in the darkness.

Soulful but never morose, and thoughtful on the passing of time and the importance of cherishing these tiny moments, it’s a sophisticated return to form.

There may be elements of these greats in her vocals, but as ‘Not Your Muse’ proves, Celeste is on her way to becoming a star in her own right.

Through glowing stasis and solemn ceremony, Divide and Dissolve’s sonics of despair and destruction have been crafted into a remarkably life-affirming experience, and it’s never been more needed.

It might not hold any firm answers or blazing rebuttals to the world burning up like a flaming, stinking trash can, but crucially it refuses to look away from the mess, and confronts it instead.

Weezer have delivered an album that’s intimate, thoughtful and resolutely human.

Parks has a singular talent for tapping into sadness and turning it into something uplifting. ... Arlo Parks may be the voice of Gen Z, but there’s no doubt that this is a universal collection of stories that’ll provide solace for listeners of all ages and backgrounds for decades to come.

This album is a huge leap forward for Baoi. The record teams with hope, which couldn’t be more apt for a moment in which a new political era dawns and light, albeit slowly, finds its way through the darkness.

While it’s far from a dramatic reinvention, there’s enough on display here to ensure that long-time fans will be more than happy, with a consistent array of the arena-ready riffs and post-rock choruses that cemented their name in the first place. This time, however, we’re given a welcome glimpse into the darkness that seemingly exists within.

As they prove across ‘Isles’’ 10 intricately-crafted tracks (which were whittled down from more than 150 demos), few other artists can conjure up these much-missed moments of patiently rapturous rave ecstasy quite so artfully.

It finds the band cruising along the middle of the road, with occasional interesting detours.

‘Cheater’ is one hell of a trip with a rare band who are singularly themselves. No-one else could do what Pom Poko do.

A debut album proper in all but name, in fact, ‘Demidevil’ shows that Ashnikko’s far more than a two-trend wonder – with a tank full of intriguing bangers that evade living under ‘Daisy’s formidable shadow.

This is massive leap on from ‘Songs Of Praise’ – ‘Drunk Tank Pink’ is more ambitious and more accomplished than its predecessor, showcasing a band brimming both with ideas and the confidence to pull them off. ... ‘Drunk Tank Pink’ confirms Shame’s status as one of the most exciting bands at the forefront of British music.

There’s a clarity here, a sense of maturity in the lyrics too – something that was often missing in his previous work. ‘Nobody is Listening’ has its flaws, but Zayn is clearly working out a few chinks in his armour, and this comes across as a step in a new and fresh direction for the enigmatic artist.

It’s rare for a rock record to feel this exciting, especially coming from a band seven albums deep and, y’know, from Surrey, but every track ‘SUCKAPUNCH’ feels inspired in some way.

Here’s your prescribed dose of reality with an unmistakable and intoxicating Sleaford Mods flavour. The extraordinary ‘Spare Ribs’ is graffiti on a concrete wall; there’s no manifesto, no easy answers and nowhere to hide.

Initially, you might be disappointed to have waited two years for what at first sounds like an underworked collection of throwaways. In places, though, the record rewards repeat listens. ... But there’s no getting away from the fact that at 24 tracks long, there’s not a lot of variety on ‘Whole Lotta Red’, and the biggest take away here is perhaps that perennial rap fan favourite: less is most definitely more.

‘Welfare Jazz’ sees them sidestep any so-called second album slump. There’s no huge reinvention of sound – except for some country-ish sounds, typified by the Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn-style call-and-answer ‘In Spite Of Ourselves’, a punk hoedown with Amyl and the Sniffers‘ Amy Taylor – but a definite reinvention of mindset.

Irrespective of the permanently changed world it’s now entering, Park Hye Jin’s second solo release demonstrates her confidence to create free from the confines of categorisation.

Along with its album-ending coda, it helps to shroud the album in a rootsy, pastoral intimacy fitting for the times and akin to (although significantly meatier than) ‘McCartney’. In between, as you’d expect from a legend who’s been pushing his electronic boundaries on recent albums such as ‘2018’s ‘Egypt Station’, Sir Paul approaches the record with the same adventuring spirit as he did ‘McCartney II.’

Kid Cudi gives us every part of himself, laying out his insecurities and inner demons in the hope that it might help someone else, his words etched into a vivid backdrop of intoxicating melodies and palatial riffs. No one does mood music quite like Cudi.

If ‘Folklore’ is an introspective, romantic older sister, ‘Evermore’ is the freewheeling younger sibling. ‘Folklore’ was Swift’s masterful songwriting spun through a very specific sonic palette; ‘Evermore’ feels looser, with more experimentation, charm and musical shades at play. The new album reaps the rewards the stylistic leap of faith that ‘Folklore’ represented, pushing the boundaries of that sonic palette further still.

After all these years, the songs still stand up, even in a different dimension. ‘Black Stallion’ can either be listened to as the twisted inner monologue of a masterpiece, or a standalone rattling gun of gnarly and weird electronica.

The diversity of guest musicians, expertly woven music and compositional strength of the tracks on offer here add up to a journey well worth taking. ‘We Will Always Love You’ completes The Avalanches’ 20-year triptych on a hopeful note.

‘ALIAS’ proves that Shygirl is in full control of her artistic vision no matter the scale.

The band operate in the same art-pop playground as bands like alt-J and Field Music, with guitars popping and chiming over Andrew Thompson and Bryn Jenkins’ rhythms, only taking a moment to change the pace for tracks like ‘Out to Get You’, with its prettily plucked pastoral guitar strings and close, breathy vocals, and ‘Smorgasbord’, which makes sparing use of anguished, weeping piano notes.

Backed up by producer 30 Roc, Big Papito and Boi-1da, this 15 -rack album is sometimes ‘big’ and sometimes ‘clever’, but occasionally goes awry.

Taking everything that’s brilliant about Yungblud and amplifying it, album two is Harrison at his most extreme. It’s exactly where he belongs, too. Yungblud’s never seemed more inspiring or vital as he proves himself as one of the most important rock stars around. ‘weird!’ really is wonderful.

‘Odin’s Raven Magic’s is built on incredibly specific foundations – the particulars of Norse Mythology and medieval Scandinavian poetry is certainly niche – so key aspects feel lost in translation without a hefty visual component or matching blurb. It feels less like conventional album, and more like a live piece immortalised on record.

While Nasty’s catalogue has found her focused on pushing to the extremities of self-expression – baking rock, screamo and punk directly into her rap with reckless abandon – with this record she flexes her chops as an artist with mainstream appeal.

There are some bangers that you’ll know, such as ‘Manic Monday’, which was written by Prince for The Bangles, whose singer Susanna Hoffs lends some warm guitar and vocals to match Armstrong’s silky sentimental side. It’s the perfect soundtrack to lazily whiling away the monotony of quarantine.

Plastic Hearts finds the pop-star-turned-rock-star going hell for leather – and when Miley Cyrus is at full throttle, it’s an absolute blast. Life has imitated art, and she’s become her very own Ashley O.

Language barrier or not, it’s a divine second album.

For the most part, the songs furrow a similar path throughout the 20 tracks and, unlike most double albums, which are either loaded with fillers or come in two bloated parts, ‘CYR’ feels like a single complete record crammed full of pop anthems. Pumpkin detractors may well hate this record’s simplicity, and they’d be right to criticise it for sounding same-y to a point. But there’s no denying Corgan’s ability to craft a tune.

Rarely does a remix EP recalibrate songs so thoroughly while maintaining every inch of their magic, but we should expect the unexpected from Phoebe Bridgers by now.

Just as ‘BE’ cycles through the various ever-changing moods the pandemic has made a constant in our lives, it’s also finds the band constantly moving between genres, each attempt a triumph.

Opener ‘Shots Fired’ is a signal that Megan is not messing around. ... Yet it’s not long before she returns to the salacious songs that we all love Megan Thee Stallion for. ... For all the sex positivity and club-ready anthems, though, there are glimpses of that tone was first introduced with ‘Shots Fired.’

No doubt many of these songs will go on to be fan favourites, but while it’s not a step backwards, it certainly is a step sideways for a band who until now have been in perpetual motion.

The Cribs’ best album in 11 years.

Intimate and inventive, it’s a beautiful exercise – and one that could provide a bridge between last year’s ‘Any Human Friend’ and the musician’s planned return to melancholic material on her next original work. For now, though, she’s given us a rich new world burrow into, filled with soothing familiarity but brimming with the excitement of the new.

Seriously brilliant stuff. ‘Send Them To Coventry’ promises that Salieu is unbelievably gifted with a ceiling nowhere in sight. He carries the entire mixtape with his singular voice oscillating between conventional rap flows, dancehall toasts and ice-cold venomous lyrics.

This is an ambitious, adventurous feat that shows off Benee’s pop-hook panache and genre-bending range.

While far from a reinvention of the wheel, ‘Power Up’ is a joyous celebration of the unbridled heavy rock that has served them well for almost 50 years and, we can hope, a unifying cry for the future.