So We're New Here isn't exactly groundbreaking, but it showcases a producer so in love with the music of now that he not only preserves the power of his source material, but makes it more relevant.

If you've ever wondered what growing up in middle-class 1970s America would have been like, these deeply personal revelations are for you. [30 Apr 2005, p.64]

The songs splatter unpredictably with little concern for cohesion, forming a whole that is emphatically unique.

Debut album Songs Of Praise courses with venom and a lithe vigour that is all their own.

Soused manages to feel understated and ripe for listeners to engage with entirely on their own terms.

For in the Düsseldorf duo's continuing remit to bewilder and dazzle, conformity is the enemy. Sick of being billeted as d'n'b smugsters, 'Idiology' is a post-everything record - it's the sound of music being carefully shredded in the hope of finding something new and better.

With High, they’ve recorded an almost perfect 30 minutes of indie-punk. There’s no flabbiness, no million-dollar production that adds nothing to the songs, no bloated guitar lines or pointless drum fills and nothing that even comes close to seeming in any way meaningless.

A magpie pop masterpiece that could only be made right now and right here. And for every stupid joke you’ve heard about avocados and house prices and safe spaces and jazz hands, this is a piece of art that shows another side to a generation, one of achievement, wit and humanity in the most confusing of times.

Where previously the comparisons to their Radiohead catalogue could warp expectations, the breadth of the material on offer here suggest that it could, eventually, flip that dynamic right on its head.

Recorded with help from Fantomas shrieker Mike Patton and Buzz ‘Melvins’ Osbourne on guitar, Carboniferous rocks out with little competition.

Intelligent and visceral in equal measure, PUP is effortlessly cool, charmingly nerdy and wholly brilliant.

It may not be the most exciting project to be released by the singer, but it’s complexity and composition make for a perfect power-down playlist.

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.

A record that beautifully articulates the giddiness of love, ‘Forevher’ subtly queers up the love song in its most timeless form.

Psychological trauma aside, there’s a warmth to Weiss’ soft, sighing vocals and Daniel Falvey’s rippling guitar textures that lifts Loom to the heavens.

The high-tempo, energetic sounds throughout match Ahmed’s razor-sharp lyrics and fast-paced rhymes. The use of South Asian instrumentation – especially the Qawwali harmonies – grounds the production. It takes an unconventional approach, but the ‘The Long Goodbye’ manages to distill complex topics with fervour.

The result is a glorious neo-rap sound. It doesn’t quite fit in with his contemporaries’ party music, and he’s not always as crafty and traditional as hip-hop, so rappers like Saba often stay on the wayside, delivering absolute perfection without many accolades. That would be a shame, as this is an album at a divine level.

Taking so many chances means there are inevitable hiccups, but they scarcely matter.

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.

All of this makes for a record that never sits still, an album of considerable polish and scope and by far the boldest thing the Danes have ever made, but also a album that still feels distinctly theirs.

On Clarity she establishes a glamorously appealing pop persona that’s all her own: resilient, materialistic, ready and able to call the shots.

‘Lianne La Havas’ is a far more cohesive record than any of its predecessors, focused around a primary nucleus of intimate vocals, nimble guitar-work and driving percussion.

You leave American Gangster longing for more of this don't-give-a-fuck attitude, but the feeling that presides is Jay-Z patting his wallet.

That same battle between tension and relaxation runs throughout, fueling this understated gem of an album.

It's a success, the influence of the body on the music making it sound positively alive.

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

They’ve kept those colours nailed firmly to the mast, and never more so than on ‘No Money Music’, an aptly named track that adopts the aural scare tactics of Suicide’s ‘Frankie Teardrop’.

It is a serious album for serious rock fans, even though taking anything seriously isn’t exactly Andy Falkous, Jack Egglestone, Jimmy Watkins and Julia Ruzicka’s strong point.

The glorious quirks and inventiveness of Let’s Eat Grandma’s earlier work might be amiss on ‘Two Ribbons’, but its immediacy will likely win them new fans. This is the stirring sound of reinvigoration in the face of loss.

Movements is full of urgency; songs struggling to keep up with everything thrown at them.

‘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

He has an uncanny feel for the triangulation of folk, jazz and blues that came from the fleet fingers of Bert Jansch and John Fahey back in the ’60s.

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.

Danger Mouse and Black Thought remain firmly in their comfort zones, and though the record constantly delights, it rarely surprises. It seems a little churlish, however, to criticise two greats for simply living up to their own high standards. ‘Cheat Codes’ is brilliant.

It’s minimal without being clinical, catchy without being clichéd and, thanks to the influence of MBV and Neu!, full of sonic left turns.

It’s a deft, heartfelt and above all personal record that pays fitting tribute to Jara’s immense legacy, all the while providing a platform for some of Bradfield’s finest songwriting in recent years.

On his Sub Pop debut, he's sliced off the excess, preachy rhetoric for something inventive, bold and brilliantly fresh.

Melding Motown melodies and pop chords for heartbreak and house party listeners alike, Hive Mind is a triumph.

The fourth album from Caribou is the sound of the summer we're only just getting round to enjoying.

An album of gloomy, almost gothic techno splendour. Beneath its typically sleek, urbane deep house grooves, it beats nervously with foreboding, fear and loathing for humanity as a whole.

Weirdness far from gallops across the dozen songs that make up the pick'n'mix bag of The Whole Love though, as the straight up alt.pop of 'I Might' testifies, coming across something like a breezy Weezer packing PhDs and lime-topped Coronas.

It’s Grace’s own personal journey with gender dysphoria in ‘True Trans Soul Rebel’, ‘Paralytic States’ and ‘Drinking With The Jocks’ that has the most impact, though, the latter being the sort of raging polemic that proves the hardcore spirit of Black Flag is still alive and kicking.

The perfect entwining of brain and brawn. [9 Sep 2006, p.37]

A joyous surge of drums, guitars, wild brass and potent Spanish-English vocals from powerhouse frontwoman Victoria Ruiz.

It’s a satisfying ride. This smooth and consistent journey through nostalgia and the energy of new ideas means that ‘Profound Mysteries’ parts one and two stand up as latter-day career triumphs for Röyksopp.

By going back to the music that producer Don Was calls the “fountainhead of everything they do”, however, they sound younger than they have in decades. Blue & Lonesome is proof that old dogs don’t always have need of new tricks.

They’ve made an absolutely magical record--the jagged edges of their past have been smoothed by the sea, making Teen Dream a soft shore gem in the crown of the great chronicles of youth.

When it works its magic, as on the opening suite of tracks, you will happily sit mesmerised for seven or eight minutes of glimmering sonic twilight and translucently tingling ambi-organic pearly-dewdrops droppery. But when the spell is broken, as on two or three later tunes, when more traditional instrumentation turns up late and dishevelled for a half-hearted cosmic-rock supernova, the effect is rather like gatecrashing some purgatorial soundcheck by a Pink Floyd covers band in, say, 1968. Or possibly Spiritualized.

Every tangled note of Option Paralysis drips with honesty and endeavour, and it shines like a beacon of integrity in a world that's been focus-grouped into the dirt.

There really ain't anyone bringing the world party quite like LV.

Nine Types...will make those who over-contextualise TVOTR finally quit their chin-stroking and live a little.

I’m A Dreamer is another stellar effort.

Even if you've been fortunate enough to live with these tracks over the last year or so, they still sound more vital, more likely to make you form your own band than anything else out there.

She’s combined the joy of Chairlift, the atmospheric mastery of Ramona Lisa and the experimentalism of CEP. The result is a Caroline Polachek record in its most distilled and fully realised form.

The result is a thoroughly modern pop album that will best appeal to ageing clubbers.

Lyrically lucid and sonically exciting. [11 Jun 2005, p.67]

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

Metz deliver the same righteous anger that informed much of their favourite music in the early '90s.

Like the works of other great swooners from Cole Porter to The Divine Comedy, 'Poses' is held together by its maker's maniacal attention to detail and conceptual strength.

The album has a coherency that was absent first time around, and there is also a rattling freshness to the sound that Timbaland has rustled up.

Thank you very much, Mr Rubin--The Man In Black is still with us. [1 Jul 2006, p.36]

This real-life fairytale is made up of myriad difficult home truths but Marling's hejira, her flight to freedom, makes for absolutely compelling listening. Oh, and there's a happy, redemptive ending to boot.

A more diverse and calculated album than a usual Hey Colossus offering, and all the better for it.

Overall, though, despite a couple of subpar verses, ‘Insomnia’ is one for the books. The UK rap world has never seen three of the scene’s most in-demand rappers surprisingly team up for an album. Here the best of north and south London have come together and paved the way for others to follow suit.

With ‘CRAWLER’ they take their own advice, adding a whole new dimension to an already beloved band. This appears a stepping stone in the band’s evolution, rather than the finishing line.

By tying together contrasting sounds and stories into this brilliant collection, Biig Piig embraces the joy of reinvention.

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

Variety keeps things interesting, but it also allows the duo to flex their musical muscles, and they’ve traded in some of their previous blistering punk for a more relaxed pace on certain tracks, but without sacrificing any intensity.

It’s enjoyable and familiar, but retains Billie’s disruptive streak. It’s a brave and resounding first step for an artist with bags of potential and over the next decade, you’ll no doubt see popular music scrabbling to try and replicate what this album does on every level.

Utopia is where art, real life and deep experimentation intersects, and it’s utterly compelling.

It’s not much more than the sum of its influences, but when its influences are this strong, it really doesn’t matter.

'The Czar' is a microcosm of Crack The Skye: thuddingly impressive, richly textured and constantly surprising.

Often ‘Saves the World’ is brutal in its specificity – with devastating effects.

The south London grime don delivers a knockout debut that’s brash and pensive in equal measure.

The album’s first half is fantastic.... The album’s second ‘suite’ is mellower and less consistent.

Musically, it’s a soothing sound--think Imogen Heap, Regina Spektor, Laura Marling and Tori Amos--that without attentive listening could be mistaken for a pleasant enough electronic-pop record. However, in Half Waif’s quest for some kind of calmness they’ve actually made an album that, inwardly, burns furiously.

Ultra-lo-fi, but an album nonetheless stuffed full of rich melodies and arch lyrical observations.

Brimming with the prickling anxiety and stress that’s become commonplace during the pandemic, as well as the comfort Charli XCX has found in a strengthened relationship, it’s a glorious, experimental collection.

Their third album totaling 75 minutes and spread, slightly unnecessarily, over two CDs, it reaches unexpected new heights in the pantheon of 'metal bands who mellowed out'.

Josh Homme and his all-star pals prove the virtue of taking your sweet time on a record that’s as self-assured as it is damn sexy.

Compulsive and conflicted.

With Freetown Sound, he’s made something bold, challenging, uncompromising and overlong--an album, like the man who made it, that’s the sum of its parts and then some.

‘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.

Get past the initial jolt of weirdness and you'll find in his delivery a soul-puncturing cry from the very frontlines of life, able to evoke both desperate tragedy and skyscraping joy all at once.

It’s one of the oddest beauties of the year so far.

The style is cool, the moves perfect, but you can take as much of lasting value from a stick of gum as you can from these dank-basement stomps.

I Made A Place is a soft, sumptuous delight. It’s a cult classic, not a bestseller, but we’re pretty sure that Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy wouldn’t have it any other way.

Unlikely to sway anyone not already on board with Richard D. James’ weirdo-funk, Collapse is nevertheless a brilliant, warped addition to a canon like no other.

It’s a contemplative, conflicted look at modern life and feels relevant in a breathless, always-on society. ‘Sad/Happy’ is bittersweet more than anything – which feels like the truest emotion for this album, one that successfully communicates the modern maelstrom of everyday pain and joy.

Whether channelling her larger-than-life musical heroes or shrouding her music in something more subtle, Moriondo’s lyricism shines through – she’s yet another Gen Z star willing to try the pop-punk outfit on for size. The fit? Pretty damn good.

Yes, ‘Vince Staples’ was a beautifully personal reflection from start to finish, but ‘Ramona Park…’ enriches the listener’s relationship with the rapper.

‘The Theory Of Whatever’ shows that – unless he chooses to hit the eject button for himself – Jamie T should be sticking around for a lot longer.

Scraping off the garage 
rock grit and disjointed sharp edges that characterised his 
previous album ‘Emotional Mugger’ for this definitive self-portrait, Segall scrubs 
up great.

'Capricornia' and 'Europe' thicken their debut's effervescent jangle to a rich lustre, and Morris' solo uke classic 'Tallulah' makes sending postcards of sausage-eating Germans sound as romantic as dinner on the Danube.

Absolutely stunning. [4 Feb 2006, p.29]

There’s plenty of furious bluster on the record – vocalist James McGovern sounds incensed on ‘More Is Less’, and ‘Feeling Fades’ remains a razor-sharp torrent of feeling – but maybe its most interesting moments come in the slow-burns.

Guiding you on a whistlestop tour of his life, community and resultant beliefs, the record serves not only as a statement of identity, but also an indication of the sprawling possible paths for his career to grow into.

As the album’s title implies, this is transcendent stuff.