From start to finish, The Hunter is a collection of songs that inadvertently expands their repertoire and capabilities while they turn off their heads and let their fingers tell the story.

In the case of Blackjazz, Shining spreads lyrical passages across songs, repeats song titles with different music attached: they basically create an environment that can only be understood as a whole.

It feels like they've been doing this for years, and while they quite literally all have, the way they have formed and moulded that sum of past experience into one new entity is nothing but impressive.

Snaith is able to hold onto his Caribou identity despite the new techno influences. His new album Swim reaffirms the supreme artistic capability that is Caribou.

There is a monumental feeling of strength and courage in their music that is impossible to deny.

Aside from dubstep-resembling "I Don’t Love You Anymore”, a breakup song that doesn’t really mesh within the political context of Hopelessness, there’s hardly any fault to find in Hegarty’s incredibly imaginative portrait of a world that’s in dire need of some reformation.

Ultimately, The Balladeer is a solidly enjoyable record, one that captures McKenna’s voice and style nearly perfectly.

Where ["The Bliss"] bubbled and spat like hot fat, its meticulous construction overflowing with polyrhythms, Black Noise seems disjointed and overlong even though it runs for roughly the same duration.

The excellent-to-annoying song ratio on this album is definitely high. Still, their first record was solid from start to finish, and this one smacks so much more of Lennon/McCartney than Kapranos/McCarthy.

Under Color of Official Right is built with a steely fortitude, treating its subjects with respect and bluntness even if there’s nary a hopeful or comforting prospect to look forward to.

It Still Moves is the kind of album that can inspire both wonder and respect in equal measures.

While every song here makes note of the relationship at the center of School of Seven Bells, this is not a downbeat album. Instead, it's a record that showcases everything the band is about.

This is one of the few releases of 2008 that shook me out of my complacency and forced me to accept it on its own terms.

For the first time is usually nonsensical, frequently transcendent, and compulsively listenable. Everything that sprung to mind is on the wax here, but BC, NR don’t forget to make it catchy and groovy. In nailing that balance, they’ve given us the year’s first capital-G Great record.

While it may not attain the dizzy heights of I'm New Here, Smith's deftness ensures that We're New Here is far more than just a vanity project

There’s so much here to enjoy, we can tolerate the occasional lyrical overreach.

If Anything was good, but this is the work of a band who are well on their way to establishing themselves as key cogs in their category.

Sure, there aren’t quite the visceral heights that the best tracks on w h o k i l l provided, but you will not be thinking that during Nikki Nack’s best moments. Listen to the words she says, let them sink into your head.

Soused, with its impenetrable construct and heavy ambition, delivers on many fronts, most notable of which is in its thoughtfully composed immensity.

Age Of is an excellent and frequently rewarding album; where one might expect a musical cul-de-sac, there is a 180-degree turn that somehow always feels appropriate, a testament to two years of songcraft that have clearly paid dividends.

It's far-reaching in scope but it's also conceptually uniform, a beautiful mess of an album from a band who is inching their way towards the imperial phase of their career.

Strange provides the blueprint for his many talents on the album—proving his taste knows no bounds—pursuing a scrappy, meandering course that can sometimes lead to rocky, albeit thrilling, dead ends.

While Wall of Eyes captures the trio at their most musically freewheeling, it also loses the ordered potency of A Light for Attracting Attention. Yorke himself has also reverted to themes of self-identity more cryptically, making less of an impact compared to his sardonic candor identifying with the everyday anxieties of living in the outside world's structured chaos. Still, it's clear that The Smile operates on their own accord.

What's most impressive is how Lenker stands apart from both modern singer-songwriter tropes and the cult psych-folk canon, creating a haunting mood that touches upon both sides with her own unique touch.

The only real issue that Shura faces on forevher is that the record can be too much of a good thing. The psychedelic grooves that back the project can almost be suffocating, not allowing melodies or choruses to flourish on tracks that feel like a huge hook could bring them to perfection.

Loom seems to touch upon many periods within the extensive annals of indie pop, but Fear of Men put their own stamp with smart, modish pop tunes that intend to make sorrow, in the face of uncertainty, sound invigorating.

Superchunk do come back full circle with a timeless, uniform body of work, though it also takes them back a few years after their late-career breakthroughs Majesty Shredding and I Hate Music.

Overall, this album contains some of the most original and hypnotically brilliant rock music ever recorded.

It’s an evocative listen, though they can’t quite break the compulsion to play around with passing fads.

Despite Live Forever not being perfect, Bartees Strange swings for the fences on every song here. It’s exciting just to watch it unfold in front of your eyes.

Delicate and lovely new project, one that chronicles a relationship blooming and decaying in equal time.

Circumambulation practically evades any trace of sheen that was found on their two previous efforts. The differences are minimal but not predictable, lying somewhere between sludgy stoner metal and expansive, yet acute rhythmic precision; it’s their ability to never stand on solid ground that elevates their caliginous mid-tempo tunes.

All told, For Clouds and Tornadoes is a quality release from a musician that's not afraid to explore outside the usual methods to create extraordinary music.

If you listen to it twenty times, you still find something new.

With Buds, Ovlov prove once again, and perhaps more effectively than ever, that the alchemy of passion and songcraft is undeniable no matter where your devotion resides.

Barwick’s angelic voice channels whale song, her textless mantras capture a serene ambience, and her ear for arrangement are far beyond her years. Most impressive, though, is Barwick's relentless inventiveness: Florine is unlike anything you will hear this year.

Perri needs to lean into the experimental nature of his work—take more risks, and avoid being so laid back that his ghostly melodies have all the impact of a polite, good-natured apparition.

It’s mostly a collection of decent tunes, polished to a blinding sheen.

The hazy production in Sunbeams does, to an extent, water down some of Parks' poetic musings and reduce them to pleasant background music. Even if there are hardly any low points here, the forceful sentiments of past songs like Angel's Song and Romantic Garbage are sorely absent—both of which are just mellow as this project but more musically rewarding.

This is hip-hop that doesn't attack; it drifts. Black Up is full of ghostly howls and weird barely-there percussion, devoid of anything like a single.

Through no fault of their own, some their more twangy performances don't sound too distinguishable from like-minded acts Wednesday and Big Thief. Bad timing, perhaps. But these quibbles don't detract from Ratboys' refined ebullience, glistening with an authenticity that sounds even better when you add the Chris Walla effect of making music sound irresistibly bittersweet.

B’lieve i’m goin down is further evidence of Vile’s conclusive authenticity, and his position as one of songwriting’s most understated commodities.

Once Wilco blazon forth their centerpiece, the remainder of The Whole Love takes a more familiar form that embraces self-assurance, even if those lopsided moments sum the overall experience.

This is the band’s second album after their somewhat missed "Kamehamena," and their pounce only proves to reinstill the style of the album’s predecessor.

It's one of those rare, almost perfect follow-up, albums from a promising artist unafraid of taking her music to even more thrilling places without sacrificing what made it so compelling to begin with.

Instead of modest waltzes and looped drum machines, there’s an evident maturity in the way the production unveils itself as richer and far more multifaceted. When you can’t break the familiar, expanding on those opportunities only makes you more in control.

Whether you will enjoy this ultimately depends on whether you're more of a rocker or a dancer - indeed, some people much preferred the mellower sound of their last record - but there's little denying that this album misses a lot of the urgency and sheer emotional energy of the band's first two LPs.

One good single does not a great album make, and unfortunately, the rest of the record becomes pretty tedious, pretty quickly.

Best listened to sad and lonely in your bedroom, Pang is the perfect dance album for smart and sensitive boys and girls after their day’s journaling are done.

You can imagine, and probably relate, to the monotony and helpless angst that attacks us when we're a certain age, going through certain ritualistic processes of life. So imagine this record as the soundtrack to those feelings, and how liberating, not only that would have felt then, but does feel now.

It's the album that makes her the comparative standpoint in her own right--suggesting subtly that she may one day be the talismanic songstress for her own generation.

Utopia does function as a companion piece to Vulnicura, if only because it doesn’t require much effort to separate them as contrary forces.

Even though it does occasionally dip into overly-saccharine territory--like in the largely plodding End of the Summer--it more often makes for a good match with the band's more heavily melodic--though still energetic--approach.

Crack the Skye follows Mastodon’s uncanny tradition of crafting a brand of heavy metal that is unabashed, mazelike, and above all, fresh.

Stormzy makes every minute of this album count. By giving a voice to both the street and religious sides of his life he is able to produce a well-rounded, exciting project.

Janelle Monáe has not simply lived up to our expectations here; she has shattered them, delivering a confident, creative, and enormously entertaining record that marginally betters her sublime debut.

Panda Bear Meets the Grim Reaper can be a particularly infuriating listen since it wanders between moments of greatness and utter tedium.

Weird Little Birthday is a superb debut, beautifully recorded, with everything in its right place.

It’s another intriguing entry into the Charli XCX canon, even if it does feel like more of a stopgap than anything. But hey, right now, that’s okay too.

The good does far outweigh the bad, and had this album been a bit more condensed, it would have been one of my favorites this year.

...Like Clockwork is easily the best release from the band since Songs for the Deaf.

The duality of hopefulness and dissolution she presents is intoxicating (with droning, ethereal soundscapes that are chilling in their stillness, to boot).

Maybe it's less intimate and personal than his past releases, but Revelator sure goes down easy when it's most needed.

In Conflict is either one of those records which invite thoughtful criticism, with the repeated phrasings and imagery occurring throughout the record (not to mention the swooningly lush orchestrations) suggesting vast rabbit warrens in Pallett’s psyche worth considering, or render it entirely pointless, given that it seems set on creating something immaculate, and then mercilessly deconstructing its creator.

It’s a collection of unsightly surveillances expressed in a magnificent manner, and the work of a man more than capable of out-creating himself.

It's heady, bleak stuff, certainly, but the sheer ambition and, bizarrely, hint of liberation with which it's performed make it one of the year's most perplexingly life-affirming releases.

Invigorated and with more purpose, Oldham feels the wholeness of family and unity. Whereas past projects lived in a state of flux, Oldham now feels settled and at ease. It does sound like he's found the "lightness," after all.

It is impassioned and political, but most of the album is more life-affirming than alienating. These are songs about solidarity and overcoming adversity, either through specifically female friendship or finding that strength introspectively.

It's not just the hooks of the songs that make this EP so bewitching, it's also a prophecy for post-dubstep.

Seemingly straight out of 1970, The Making of You is a lovely album to which to reminisce about pre-pandemic times.

So, Living Human Treasure is hard to love, but it’s not unlovable. There’s a smart, inventive band at work here, with the potential to rise to the very top of the current class of post-punk acts.

Sohn masterfully handles a crush of guitar and synths while a small batch of guests provide string embellishments, with Stella Mozgawa (Warpaint) playing drums on a few tracks. Primarily recorded at home, the lack of hiss or other background noise shows Sohn’s proficiency with her approach as well as the technical advances that machines have brought to music.

He’s is nothing short of a chameleon when it comes to garage rock, and this is one of his most impressive outputs yet.

Europe often finds itself lacking in ideas and sticking to de rigueur jangle and well-trodden indiepop tropes.

TWIABP demands a lot of your attention through these challenging, often dreary meditations, but they do reveal themselves gradually through close observation. On the flip side, there is no shortage of positivity either. It's a tricky equilibrium that the band embraces as they emotionally erupt over a fiery concoction of shredding guitars.

A compelling failure.

Since The Seldom Seen Kid's release it seems everyone and everyone's mum are now fans of the band. Though Build A Rocket Boys! is a strong album, it never quite matches the rampant grace of that record and in many ways caters to their more tested demographic.

There's a lot in here that brims with life but, somehow, it never quite unfolds.

The chances Young Jesus take here in a songwriting sense are commendable, and with technical chops to boot. But overall, it's not quite the powerfully compelling, or approachable, experience that Rositter will have you believe it is.

While she's developed her voice in the process, Designer being a shining example of how she showed her many talents with oft-kilter confidence, Warm Chris blends spontaneity and rigidity all at once.

Unconventional harmonies and slurred vocals are an acquired taste, and some of the more out-there lyrical moments might bemuse you first time round, but give it a chance.

Jennings appears on the album’s penultimate track, the fine Hurts So Bad, where his harmonies pop out of an average song. It’s one of the few moments on Wyatt’s album where her usually honest writing feels more cliche than distinct. Jennings’ harmonies are fine, but it feels like the tune easily could've been cut. Still, this album’s got plenty of superb moments.

Most of all, I'd like to list Angels Of Darkness, Demons Of Light: 1 amongst the ever-expanding and illustrious list of rock n' roll's most important albums.

The band brings a vigorous energy to their quirky sentiments as they walk through their surroundings, instilling a comical bent at any opportunity. Even if they know that the farther they go, the better it is to stop for a second and just be in the moment.

America takes you on a long journey across busy city streets and somber countryside and while this expedition may be absolutely overwhelming at times, it's ultimately much worth the trip.

There’s a lot of bluster and enthusiasm here but I’m struggling to identify much in the way of true substance.

You can’t necessarily call this new music, but it works because it doesn’t sound vintage, nor does it completely owe itself to any bygone era of “remember when?”.

The themes still surround the passing of his wife Geneviève Elverum, but he allows some room to contemplate on what it means to begin to move forward. As opposed to the stiflingly spare Crow, Now Only is fairly more detailed, where he seeks for some equilibrium by revisiting the sullen drones of his past work.

Perhaps the best way to approach Theatre Is Evil is not even as an album, but rather a collection of songs--all fairly similar but often good, sometimes very much so.

Salad Days is a testament to love at its most selfless and pure as much as it is the fear of holding on to it.

A very good album and only a very good album. Don’t expect it to linger like Jay Som’s last, but do expect it to keep you company as these waning days of summer transform into fall.

Titus Andronicus have created an album that will grip the listener, carry them along on a tide of spit and blood and youthful aggression, and leave them dazed and exhausted at the end, with no other option but to start the record all over again.

There’s a disagreement about whether this should be classed as their fourth, fifth or sixth album, but there’s little doubt that Wide Awake! is up there with their very best.

Very few dance albums are, and in the end, that’s what Phoenix created--a dance album, possibly the most enjoyable one since "Oracular Spectacular."

With such a huge repertoire crammed into a record not much longer than 30 minutes, it’s all the more impressive that the tracks mesh together so seamlessly, never losing the cosy, affectionate motif that hangs over its entire runtime.

Heartleap is a treasure to withhold, and though it's proclaimed as a departure, it feels both complete and satisfyingly open-ended.

The artistry on Shadows In The Night is as sharp as ever, which is a welcome reminder of how Dylan’s songwriting is only half the story. The emotional electricity of his albums stems from his composed and ardent delivery and the sonic poetry of the arrangements surrounding this delivery.

For All We Know is an extremely accomplished debut from a supremely talented artist.