Everything about You Won’t Get What You Want is carved out of sheer insert-synonym-for-unhappiness-here, from the guitars to the drums to the vocals, but there’s more than enough nuance and versatility to earn your respect, even if it’s not something you’re typically drawn towards.

It's her sprawling vocal range and smart, sharp songwriting that holds everything together, making Premonitions a thoroughly enjoyable and dazzling collection from one of the more promising artists in recent years.

Aviary is an incredibly immersive voyage and arguably her greatest achievement. In fact, it wouldn’t be too bold to say this is an Art pop masterpiece via one of the best songwriters alive—it’s just not for everyone, and Holter is ok with that.

Darker Days is colourful and playful but Morén’s beautifully ornamented vocal builds stretch through any presumptions of an album of “Young Folks” into a reflection on our demons and counter measures.

Saturn is quite the trip, more than worthy of its stellar name.

Forever Neverland is an illustration of how modern pop should be--full of character, colourful and 14 tracks full of pop hit after hit.

The use of live and programmed beats, a dozen or so models of synthesizers and controllers, and zither gives the music proper depth and moments of beauty, as does Jahnsen's voice. But even for all of the lush and layered arrangements, what Pure-O lacks above all are the kind of nuances needed to help it stand apart from its obvious influences past and present.

It doesn't offer any real answers or solutions, nor should it have to. Instead, it offers something more valuable than other albums exploring heavily topical subjects occasionally lack: empathy. Which is something we could all use in these fraught times.

Jassbusters is an unusual album in that it’s not quite unusual enough.

Though there are hints of doubt and yearnful ambiguity associated with detachment and abandonment, littered throughout, Us is a project album radiating with friendship and the comfort of simply being next to someone.

On Last Building Burning, Cloud Nothings provide their take on a stripped back album. Belts were loosed, fingers bled, and there was probably some howling at the moon. But in a world so interconnected, you can’t forget the primal that’s in you still trying to make sense of it all- knowing a starry sky is the back drop to honeymooners and prisoners.

For every lightning in a bottle moment of inspiration or fun, there are several misses. His sound might be lighthearted, but it can at least be memorable. (Don’t try to act like ‘Broccoli’ would’ve been as big as it was without Yachty’s help.) He has nothing to prove but not much to show either.

Dime Trap is very much alive, and having entered his elder statesmen phase with, frankly, astounding grace, T.I. looks to remain present for quite a while.

How and where Halloween ranks in his long catalog as a composer is up to Carpenter fanatics to decide, but for my money, it proves itself just to be just as consistent and wildly inventive as anything else he has done, painting with broad strokes and bringing to life its surroundings.

Sheck masterfully transcends one-hit-wonder status throughout his debut.

The only other hiccups are a couple of occasions when the synth lines get a little too rambunctious for their own good, bordering almost on comic. These blips aside, Certainty Waves is inventive, uplifting and fun, with something new to be discovered on every listen: an excellent entry into the Dodos’ discography.

It may not be perfect but it's another solid release from a project that even after all these years still has plenty of promise coming from all sides.

Love Is Magic is his most consistent and enjoyable work yet.

CHAI may be a fledgling band, but on PINK, they’re already shockingly sure of their sound and what they want to accomplish with it. It doesn’t hurt that they kick ass at it.

The circular fate of a world that is doomed to repeat itself is told on the thrashy ‘Ouroboros’ which is riddled with scuzzy feedback, but Ted Stevens’ melody manages to crack through the darkness. It’s these under-written melodies that somewhat cut the bleakness which is on offer here. That’s not to say there aren’t any moments of hope. There are.

It’s his weakest effort to date. His range of voices, from his familiar craggy baritone to a hesitant pitch-shifted falsetto (on ‘Echo’) are made to do all the heavy lifting because Dear the producer is too content with letting tracks spin their wheels and sputter to a halt.

Bottle It In does enough to keep himself and his fans happy, but it leaves waiting those of us that wish a bit more from him.

With Elephants on Acid they often sacrifice, clearly by choice, catchiness for a more avant-garde complexity. There is a fantastic set of songs awaiting murkily on Elephants on Acid, and for Cypress Hill's intended audience here--the true fans--it's sure to be a joy unearthing them.

Songs ebb and flow between different styles, motifs appear and recede like roadside landmarks glimpsed briefly and passed in a blur. The result is an album that even in its slower moments seems to be constantly pushing forward, a hazy, dreamlike soundtrack to a classic road-trip movie.

She’s channelled this tenuous bond into 10 skeletal songs, kissed them with all the warmth in her heart, and released them into the world to blossom and light up the lives of all those who'll listen.

It certainly doesn’t break any new ground, but it’s a committed, charming throwback to the early years post-millennium, when rock did one of its perennial about-faces, away from prog-y electronica and back to the days when wearing leather and ripped white or red t-shirts was actively encouraged.

Perfect Shapes is a confident step forward. It all bodes well for whatever shapes come next.

Siesta may be a celebration, but it keeps it low key. You’ll find yourself refreshed, minus the clean up. It’s a salve for a tiring year.