An album to live with, to live long.

No Cities to Love is a towering, fists-up record of thundering guitars and soaring hooks.

There are solid guest turns from newcomers such as New York rapper Leikeli47 as well as legends D’Angelo and GZA. But Rapsody herself is the undisputed star, offering up empowerment in droves on the catwalk-worthy Tyra (“damn I’m stunning”) and Serena, an ode to grafting hard for your fortune.

For old Jarrett fans and prospective new ones, it's a must.

These subtle, interesting songs lost out to brasher, more basic tracks – Welcome to New York, Style – on the original 1989 tracklist, but who’s to say whether their inclusion would have affected Swift’s trajectory? Clearly she made a pretty good call on that front. This carbon copy of her blockbuster album doesn’t rewrite history but adds some instantly treasurable footnotes.

Send Them to Coventry sounds like it would have been successful at any time, regardless of extraneous circumstances: it’s too fresh and inventive to ignore.

There are an awful lot of singer-songwriters around exploring the kind of subjects Mitski touches on here: disillusionment, isolation, broken relationships, overindulgence. But it is questionable whether anyone else is doing it with this much skill, this lightness of touch or indeed, straightforward melodic power: in the best possible sense, Mitski feels out on her own.

It’s utterly transfixing – not just for the gorgeousness of the tone, but for the absolute wondrousness of the melodies.

Though the arrangements are predictable, Staton's versatile voice is a revelation.

One of the year's best already, by a mile.

The songs’ difficult birth has given them a bracing, anthemic, heartfelt and occasionally even eerily dreamlike quality. Architects aren’t a band for anyone with sensitive hearing, but it’s hard not to be moved by this loud, cathartic howl.

Moreover, as apocalyptic as his vision can be, the thrill as he pushes his sounds further outwards proves to be as seductive as it is forbidding.

It's Bassekou who dominates, with a new, tougher, amplified ngoni style that shows the influence of co-producer Howard Bilerman.... Magnificent.

Musically, the album isn’t dark at all. It’s overwhelmingly lovely, with classy hooks and rousing choruses.

Improv conundrums but with an unwavering spiritual intent, these on-the-fly Coltrane experiments were part of a 1960s step-change in the evolution of jazz and much else in contemporary music, still making waves from those long-gone analogue days to the eclectic present.

You're left with an album from which ideas continually gush forth in a torrent.

Unvarnished and emotionally raw, it frequently makes for tough listening. Equally, as a showcase for Dave’s talents, it unquestionably works. His lyrics are smart, thoughtful, unflinching and self-aware. ... The end result is certainly the boldest album to emerge from UK hip-hop’s renaissance. It may also be the best.

As addictive as its predecessor, Untrue confirms that Burial possesses not just the keen ear of a Lee Perry or Martin Hannett.

an Lynch’s Déanta in Éireann, about Irish emigration, and The Granite Gaze are particularly hard to shift from the mind. Lankum inhabit a harsh, uncomfortable world, but a vital one.

This beautifully curated set covering their earliest years. ... It often feels like you’re listening to the birth of something more than a band: the contradictions at Hüsker Dü’s heart would fuel American alt-rock for years to come, from the Pixies to grunge to emo.

St Vincent's 40 minutes offer an embarrassment of fantastic songs.

On this form, there are few around who can match them.

While the duo deliver hard-nosed disses at a rate of knots. Early, meanwhile, matches distorted synth with an old-school storytelling piece about pursuit and arrest by the police. It’s an unrelenting style, which may sound like overkill to some, but there’s no disputing its power and sophisticated composition.

A trove of bewitching melody and subtle invention, Rounds succeeds not only as a meticulously conceived piece of art but also as a moving expression of human warmth.

Whether the album ends up exerting the kind of influence over the Top 40 that her earlier releases did seems questionable--it feels almost too opaque and inward-looking for mass appeal. As evidence of a unique artist pursuing a personal vision in a world filled with the commonplace, however, Honey is perfect.

It sounds timeless and contemporary; the instrumental interludes and the stylistic and tempo shifts all hang together because of his warm, sincere vocals and fantastic songwriting.

It's hard to hear Modern Times' music over the inevitable standing ovation and the thuds of middle-aged critics swooning in awe. When you do, you find something not unlike its predecessor, Love and Theft.

Superficially, this is a straightforward set; musically, it’s anything but.