It's a more expansive, more ambitious and more accomplished Raime than we've heard before.

None of these ventures feel forced, instead they flourish under the weight of some heavy emotional themes. After this versatile and unexpectedly wholesome depiction of a broken heart, Mykki Blanco has earned some deserved beauty sleep.

This is not Jaar's best album, nor is it his strangest, but it's a wonderful listen that tempts you to get lost in its many layers. It is beautiful but confounding, an artwork whose "solid form" still passes through like water trickling down between your fingers.

I Hope You Can Forgive Me, ten songs under a half hour that move quickly but stay with you long after, is a full-fledged real-time resume that demonstrates how complex rhythms and careful arrangements can elevate the human voice to the ultimate instrument.

Captain Of None places Schott's voice front-and-centre and folds in her long-burning love for dub and reggae rhythms, making for her most approachable and otherworldly record yet.

It's an album of gorgeous sounds and textures that prefer to lay in the dark and be discovered rather than assert themselves.

Harlecore is the souvenir, a collection of dance music so deliriously upbeat you can't help but surrender to it.

There are no new tricks at hand here, no experimental forays into the goonier psych-prog ends of the space disco genre. And you know what? Thank f*** for that.

It's tricky to make music this mopey without sliding into shtick, but Holy Other pulls it off, balanced right on the brink of bathos.

Though it's way too long to listen to in one sitting, Grime 2.0 is catnip for the grime fan, and good bait for those new to or curious about the genre.

Wise's third album is striking not only because of his unparalleled voice or his candid verse, parts of his artistry that already caught our attention on the last two albums, but because of the way these elements come together in such an assured way, in a space that demands swagger bravado from its virtuosos delivered with a welcome vulnerability.

Their lush synth textures are a few tints darker and their songwriting is a whole lot tighter.

The Night Land lands in beautiful and occasionally unexpected places.

Sebenza sounds like nothing else out there and yet LV's knack for genre-mincing produces an album that sounds both timeless and completely of its time, crossing musical and political borders with confident finesse.

Not so serious, just damn fun. Davis is taking big swings, purposely stomping through giant puddles like a kid again, eager to see how stain patterns form. So even when he misses, he still hits.

The album's wordless songs are almost as riveting as their counterparts.

It's infectious and almost a little too odd, yet it's totally at ease. In other words, it's DJ Koze doing what he's done for well over a decade.

Hye Jin refines her sound, pulling from trap and boom-bap, not to mention dubstep and techno, to turn out a coming of age hip-house album. Before I Die is the clearest artistic vision we've heard from Hye Jin.

Together, Dom Maker and Kai Campos are something truly special. Apart, they still sound pretty damn talented, which makes this diversion a welcome one as the group work towards their next grand statement.

On Giant Swan, the duo display a fearsome mastery of techno dynamics, but it's their detachment from that world that makes their music so compelling.

JIAOLONG is one of the year's most consistently compelling LPs, whether as home listening evening fuel or out and about in the sweaty rooms for which it was designed.

Taken as a whole, Incubation is an album that lures you into dark places in your brain rather than moving your body on the dance floor.

In the hands of artists as confident and unflinching as these three, the scope for discovery and growth becomes infinite. The darkest of gems.

They'll be fully outted soon--with an album this good, the backstory can't help but see the light of day--but even without the anonymity, Tiger & Woods will be plenty spicy.

The extended runtimes on Perpetual Now provide each of these pensive sound pieces enough room to tell their own meandering stories, with a dynamism that takes you out of time, placing you firmly within each boundless, everchanging meditation. At this music's core is an insight into the machinations of rRoxymore's mind.

As gripping as the album is all the way through-it seems to chart an on/off relationship even more directly than their eponymous album did-its best moment is actually its first. Opener "Angels" is one of the meekest xx tracks, but it's easily among their most powerful.

Shepherd's flawless Eglo catalogue had the power to coax his followers off the dance floor with him, and Elaenia's sophisticated sense of musical accomplishment ought to keep them there.

The progression in Atobe's work is incremental. Beyond the title-track, Yes mostly does away with the classy, tech house-style snap prevalent on 2018's Heat. For an artist that emerged as a model of consistency, Atobe takes a surprising amount of left turns.