If IRL is not as consistent as her previous output, this new album still cements Mahalia as a major R&B/Soul fixture both nationally and abroad.

Though acoustic tonality may appear muddy, the confident voice of Supermodels reigns loud and clear.

It may be a hard record to get a finger on, particularly compared to her last decade or so of releases, but I Inside The Old Year Dying, is another strong record in a discography already stacked with classics.

These songs feel as if they only exist as a reference for performances, rather than for their own good. Not to mention that the point of a house show is missed if I am forced to put the record on in a crowded metro just to imitate the feeling of getting thrown around in a drunken haze before work.

The instrumentation on My Back is gentle, self-conscious, and loose in structure while that on her earlier works is poised and intricate. This rawness doesn’t make it any less powerful; it intensifies the despondency haze that hangs in the air of each song like a yet-to-rain nimbus.

Despite that blemish [changing a lyric in “Better Than Revenge”], Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) is a cathartic release of pent-up frustrations of things she never had the confidence to say at 19 that are now stated proudly at 33.

The Greater Wings joins Sufjan Stevens's Carrie & Lowell and Ghosteen by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in the ranks of minimalist yet multi-layered, masterfully realised albums that are unmistakably rooted in loss and grief but ultimately transcend their painfully personal origins by blooming into life-affirming, universal beauty and resonance.

Toil and Trouble excels in emerging from imagination with a realistic moral of the story; it accepts that peace comes from within – that even if the world’s been set aflame, one can learn to achieve tranquillity amidst the fire. Debatable, of course, but practical all the same.

Where previously The Japanese House has sometimes found itself overwhelmed by production that is a little too misty, In The End It Always Does sounds like Bain stepping into the sun.

Everything here works, but that’s hardly great praise.

There’s an air of mystery that surrounds Sternberg and their songs – as if you’re encountering someone who is both stronger and more fragile than they appear. It’s this elusive quality that prompts one to visit and revisit this music. As much as Sternberg reveals, that much – and more – roils beneath the surface.

No matter how disorganised Olivia Dean proclaims this album to be, she doesn’t miss a beat – and instead generates a record with just about everything to deem itself ‘perfect’.

Luckily, there are enough tracks to cement Kelly Clarkson’s status as a long-standing pop icon – and to sympathise with her as a human being who only longs for emotional security.

The result is a hugely compelling, powerfully inviting album that manages to be simultaneously and seamlessly equal parts intimate and epic, experimental and elementally down to earth – often simultaneously. A perfectly formed gem, in other words.

On album number two, instead of writing out a cheat sheet, they have created an enigma for you to unravel. One of dark beauty and twisting longing.

This isn’t a perfect album – far from it – but it is stylistically consistent, thematically coherent and beautifully composed.

The Good Witch is pleasant pop, a record that doesn’t feel like it’s trying too hard while still cutting with witty writing.

Despite being as zesty as it is entertaining, Feed The Beast feels compromised as it shoots for the stars.

All Her Plans spotlights the Melbourne-based band as they reach new heights, exuding love, indignation, and indomitability, the essentials of “conscious” punk circa 2023.

They haven't put all the pieces together, but the evidence suggests that Geese are still capable of laying a golden egg.

While the latter half of the record isn’t as engrossing as the first half, it still concludes with a solid trio of tunes.

Life Under The Gun is a flawed but enjoyable debut album.

Heartfelt stories such as these show – not tell; King of a Land does so in the last leg, but there’s always a nagging wonder of what the record would’ve been had it done so throughout its entirety.

Williamson’s voice, writing, and sound have all evolved leaps from her previous albums, and Time Ain’t Accidental stands tall among masterful country-pop crossover records like Speak Now or Golden Hour that made their authors superstars.

The London-based trio use corrosive riffs, candid lyrics and pop hooks to deliver their most direct statement of self-autonomy yet.

Isbell’s ninth LP is a cautious refinement rather than a reinvention for the Americana icon – and as he explores a familiar set of themes, the lyrics can sometimes feel as though they could have been directly pulled from the cutting room floor of previous studio sessions.

Joy'All ends up being a bit of everything and never establishing a clear enough character. The injection of joy is refreshing yet contrived, and all the simultaneous changes seem too big of an undertaking for her collaborators, who are not able to cultivate her sound.

Although it's great to hear the forever prodigy in a better headspace, more mature and precise with his words and emotions, it was the youthful messiness echoed in past efforts that made King Krule far more intriguing than what listeners will experience under the lingering gloom of Space Heavy.