Fabiana Palladino is a near-effortless reinvention of retro pop, soul, funk, and R&B tracks with a glossy modern sheen, setting the stage for more grandiose statements in the future.

If it doesn’t quite hit the consistent highs of 2017’s Love What Survives, The Sunset Violent is a clear next step for Mount Kimbie. With limited features and a cohesive throughline, they’ve never felt so much of a unit, embarking on a trip together.

It's this juxtaposition between strong experimental instincts and ability to weld them seamlessly to a keen interest in (and talent for) engaging and accessible songwriting that makes Love In Constant Spectacle (and Weaver’s previous run of solo albums) such an unmissable treat.

To this extent Only God Was Above Us defines itself by a heady mix of retrospection and relinquishment to the future – a coming-of-age awareness writ large in previous phases of their career lent further prescience with the passing of each entry in their canon.

Dense and immaculately detailed, nothing about Act II is accidental, and no one could begrudge Beyoncé her moment in the centre of the rodeo ring. There’s no question that Cowboy Carter is a landmark record. Arguably, an inevitable one. But once the dust of its audacity settles, it misses the mark of a classic.

Whether Crow is tucking into the midtempo rock bohemia of “You Can’t Change the Weather,” or getting lost in the groovy R&B psychedelia of “Love Life,” she demonstrates that she is a musical everywoman, able to move from knowing convention to wider experimentation.

It is easily El Perro del Mar's most impressive work to date. In lesser hands, such difficult topics might have been rendered in a cliché, one-sided way. But Assbring manages to deliver a heart rending, honest, multifaceted meditation on grief in a tightly-penned ten track album that demands nothing less than our full attention.

Bite Down, then, is a rare record. It excels both as a richly resonant, often deeply beautiful gem. It is singer-songwriter introspection and a high octane field recording from an unusually fertile and harmonious gathering of five likeminded musicians at the seam where hip country rock meets the wide-eyed extemporisations of contemporary cosmically inclined psych-rock.

She releases something new, or as new as old can be, and the sun has more of a reason to shine; it’s a thing of beauty.

TYLA is turned up to 11 – there is little emotional or energetic dynamism on the album, but every song is club-ready, danceable and infectious.

Girlfriend Material sees shimmer traded for increased complexity alongside a confident pop-punk presence – one that defines the album’s major strength alongside a sharply served side-eye view of society.

With Tigers Blood, Crutchfield continues to perfect her songcraft and elevate the Americana genre – asserting a panoramic vision, radiating wisdom.

Each time I play even a moment of this record back, my ears ring and hum and vibrate my head as if they’re rejecting another listen to its mad, sad glory.

Indeed for the most part, the sparser these tracks are, the more enjoyable. The album hits a real stride after the halfway mark with perhaps its three best songs, “Cura”, “Fácil”, and “Sucia”.

Each track will commit to Whack’s usual first minute, but suspiciously lingers on, sometimes embellishing an idea and other times letting the same moment marinate on repeat. This often does little to diminish the power of each particular song, but on the macro-level, the record is still a collection of fleeting snapshots, albeit with high resolution and long-term fidelity.

Despite the occasional lack of captivating subject matter, it signifies a grown woman embracing new beginnings. The grim clouds are already clearing towards the finale – a million little stars bursting, fluttering, ready for more grandeur.

There are a number of highlights on the record, but “supernatural” is the shining star. .... There’s also moments that don’t quite hit where they should, with “true story” and “i wish i hated you” being perfectly nice but lacklustre or simple in their writing.

Jones places a premium on tonal variance and equilibrium throughout Visions; it’s a wise chess move, ensuring an absorbing listen with every spin.

Her eye for her own artistic point of view has never been sharper. The rest of the record is an equally thrilling ride.

It’s a wonderfully strange, dense, and visceral album that finds solace in uncanny experimentalism.

Bleachers would have felt more complete if their signature goofiness prominent in the upbeat production had seeped into more tracks. Despite some occasionally affecting lines, songwriting isn’t their forte; instrumentation is.

Each sound is lovingly wound up and left to tick away in the groove, a feat accomplished few times this side of LCD Soundsystem. Most impressive, however, is that this is just a damn fine collection of material.

Mass appeal might be the only thing missing, perhaps not possible for a band that has to asterisk their name sometimes. It’s not stopped them from perfecting their place in vibrant scenes that have scaled to wider appreciation, and with I Got Heaven now in the back pocket, few groups deserve a share of the limelight more.

Where does Mountainhead stand in their canon? Only prolonged exposure will tell, but one thing is beyond doubt; it’s the best concept album you will hear all year about a subjugated society literally digging a hole that takes them further away from those at the top of the heap.

Amidst the unexpected twists in its production, Webster still retains a strong narrative voice throughout, her intentions unfolding with each new line.

The entire EP clocks in at just under 15 minutes. Despite this, this has ensured quality over quantity and makes up for the potential disappointment felt by listeners due to Club Shy’s speedy turnaround. The synths are fat, Shygirl’s voice steps into places she rarely visits, and it's absolutely everything you could want from a Shygirl club cut, soaring as it takes a victory lap around what has played prior.

Still is somewhat of a step forward for the alt-R&B star, but often loses its way with repetitive songwriting and a lack of shine; its stillness might be too lax an angle.

With Filthy Underneath, Shah doesn’t necessarily reinvent herself, though she certainly recommits to honesty, vulnerability, and stepping out of comfort zones, all the while documenting an important self-initiation.