With Rakka, Vladislav Delay has created an arresting album of sheer punishing density that encapsulates the ecological pressures of a land that is brutal and unforgiving at the best of times, but occasionally encompass moments of estranged beauty.

As a whole, Shackles' Gift is more obviously tuneful and considered than its predecessor and, as established, thematically watertight. The most interesting thing about it, though, is that it works outside of this context.

MITH is an insightful record, one that gives its listener pause and feels like a valuable artefact of our time.

TOD are, miraculously given their longevity, still managing to remain interesting.

Total Control have crafted a sonic scroll that is freer, weirder, and tighter than anything they have put together before.

Inevitably there’s nothing here to rival the dark majesty of Van der Graaf Generator’s classic 1970s work, and newcomers should start with Still Life, Godbluff or Pawn Hearts. But Do Not Disturb is a worthy addition to the group’s canon and--if this is indeed their last album--a fitting end to an illustrious career.

Judging by the results of Juice B Crypts, this revitalisation of purpose feels very much like something radiating directly from the artists themselves. Hardly a complete renewal or about-face, but rather a refining of methodology and intent, a distillation of what made them so exciting to begin with.

If the EPs marked the group out as hazy, lo-fi practitioners in the Beach House mould, In Heaven benefits from a general polishing-up on terms of production, but more importantly from a more varied stylistic palette.

Ratcheting up the glimpses of honesty found on The Redeemer, it is his most transparent collection to date.

With Heavy Love Garwood has created not so much an album as a sonic dream. While you're in it, it's visceral and poignant, but once you're awake it's hard to recall the details, the lyrics, or one song from another (except perhaps the title track).

Retro styling contextualises Love and Devotion and, crucially, the album's story is delivered with an emotional heft that many current producers aspiring to hypermodernity would do well to note.

Whatever tack they take Boo’s tracks are solid, heavyweight constructions that work as well as home listening as they would in a club

There is joy here, beyond the pleasure of wallowing so elegantly and tunefully in ennui.

A taut, at times challenging, but engrossing collection of sounds.

This excellent record on Manchester's Bird label isn't some generic late adopter's attempt to take on the Moon Wiring Club, rather a genuinely unhinged, unique and deliciously weird pop album.

This is a smart record whose textures become more powerful with each successive play.

Black Metal 2 ends at an uncertain crossroads, while sonically the record is perhaps Blunt’s most easy to engage with.

While not life-altering, how i’m feeling now is fun, fast and thoroughly listenable. It’s absorbing as a document from a strange period, and its diaristic, vloggy aspects provide an intriguing peek into artistry under pressure.

It is decidedly pop in parts, both accessible and innovative, reaffirming Hubbert's standing as one of Scotland's finest and most treasured artists.

Tal National's sound fabric on new album Zoy Zoy is intricate and colourful. The music turns in wild and unexpected directions as psychedelic hues emerge and patterns form that may not have previously seemed possible.

Atkinson is a masterful, creative collector of such sounds, and she deploys them judiciously to great effect in her work. The Flower And The Vessel is no exception.

Up to this point, Hopkins is best known for the work he does with others, as an arranger for Coldplay, an in-demand producer and a talented collaborator, but Immunity is the record that defines him. You'll be blessed if you hear a better album of electronic music this year.

All in all, Instrumentals 2015 is an admirable piece of work from a man who seems to take direction from few others.

With less decay and bleed coming from the guitars, Sonancy benefits from a greater degree of separation in its instrumentation. Consequently, every track gets to breath. There’s little stifling claustrophobia at play here and much like the psychedelic experience, the music reaches and stretches out for a greater truth and space.

Boy confirms that Bozulich is at least as good as Cave or Waits at contemporising the blues, at crafting bold, gritty, assertive art that is enchantingly oddball yet still accessible, not to mention infinitely rewarding.

Anxiety's Kiss will be the record that will garner this humble band the respect they so justly deserve.

Poison Season is a luxurious creation, dappled in sunlight, and summoning all the redemptive power of pop.

Through Obel’s breathtaking vocals and ethereal piano and cello compositions, Citizens of Glass succeeds in creating a welcome musical space to escape the observations of ourselves and others.

The bending of time and place and sights and sounds across this record leaves the listener with plenty to digest and a lot to be excited for with what’s to come from Squid.

It is the sound of a musician coming to terms with the excruciation of making art and exposing himself without armour.

Nothing is a stark record, and I imagine not one that will be ringing out of club PAs on a regular basis. Instead, it joins the impressively swelling ranks of dance/techno/electro/house albums that reflect the inner workings of the individuals creating them.

Mirror II sounds so much more sophisticated, self-assured and, dare I say, grown up.

There is definitely room for some trimming. A third could easily be trimmed without damaging the listening experience too much. At the core of Face Stabber is a fun album that gets better with each listen but when it drags, and in places it does, it feels like a laborious chore to get to the good stuff again. The album lives up to its name. From the moment it starts it is an unrelenting, and visceral, album.

Partners is another triumph in Broderick’s career. It will simultaneously disorientate and captivate; it will feel both familiar and unlike anything you’ve ever heard previously.

Clone have struck a good balance, and there is not a single bad track amongst the 13 included here.

Spike Field isn’t particularly immediate, but is the kind of album that sits in your mind: you come back to it and it surprises you in a new way.

Rather than sounding phoned-in, Melvins make this louche lack of effort seem joyous and energetic, and though it can indeed feel uncomfortable, there is a sense that that’s what they want. They were making in-jokes for themselves, and the fun sludge bits were just by-products. Nonetheless, this record works, and those who vibe with the arrogance and the spikiness of Buzz and co. will warm to being joshed a little.

Setting banjos and bonfires aside, the folk roots are now replaced by a rich baroque pop accompanying a dark ride inside Huebert's mind.

The tracklist, and the fleet-footed manner in which Halo mixes these selections, provides an excellent snapshot of 2019 dance music, one that is being propelled by a unrelenting tide of weirdness. It never quite reaches superlative highs or lows but it ticks along tirelessly, getting better with repeated listens.

Mitski’s devotion to music has resulted in a tremendously earnest and endearing record.

There’s an ancient sense of purity to this music which seems a cut above any similar projects.

Carpenter, Cody and Davies have united to form an extremely tight, polished and powerful piece of thematic music with the third volume of Lost Themes. With much less to focus on then a full-length feature Carpenter really elevates and draws the most out of the fewer ingredients he works with and in doing so, truly distils the essence of his craft.

Seeds is the most streamlined, most polished, most sharp-edged album of their career. And yet it manages to retain their trademark schizophrenia.

The Age of Immunology finds the group tightening some bolts and adding depth to their mythology, and it’s really quite a treat.

It is a record that inverts and internalises its inspirations rather than externalising and projecting them. It's delicious. Try it.

Like Tyler and Brooks, Sheppard unveils his pleasure in what he sees around us gradually, his final destination ultimately unimportant so long as the quest is enriching. This is a trip that comes seriously recommended.

Time To Die is not perfect, but it's a nastier, hungrier album that stands with their best work.

The constant sense of apnoea and claustrophobia saturating all his previous work is gone, leaving space for a rediscovered breathing. Sprouting, springing, beaming, the lyrics follow the course of the seasons, paralleling the introspective thoughts of a man’s healing and the ever-beguiling cycle of nature. There is a light that filters through the notes, irradiating the sonic landscape like sun rays at dawn.

Rarely have a band so perfectly captured the nonchalant thrill of being beautifully stuck in their groove.

Far more than a collection of club tracks, it's an elegant, fully realised narrative.

Big Wows is a risky, but remarkable move for the trio--even the weaker songs in the lineup offer a buzzy dance break, densely layering up the punchy synths and calculated, sharp percussion.

Open Your Heart is the most thrilling and exciting album of the year thus far and one that demands your immediate attention.

Some of Collins' finest work can be found here.

Like the curveball they are, Shake Chain zig just when you expect them to zag, proving that there is such a thing as a jaggy snake.

Dilloway, Gordon, and Nace stick in a precarious balancing act, a taut zone between form and formlessness. Like Mac Low, it doesn’t seem about recklessly pulling something asunder, but poking at the glue that holds the parts together. Delving into errs and stumbles and finding the poignancy that resides within.

Every moment on the album feels open, inviting every spontaneous sound that enters the fold. Much of the album occupies an unsettled, unpredictable trajectory that’s coloured by a sense of poignancy.

It is a proper bass album representing all aspects of the current dance music scene through a noble kind of austerity.

A Short History Of Decay is raw, honest and painful: listening to its 10 songs feels like intruding on someone’s personal grief.

His finest work since the first two Suicide LPs.

Their most rowdy and rambunctious album yet.

Oczy Mlody re-presents Flaming Lips as a band to be taken seriously once again, despite how much fun they’re clearly having doing it.

Put simply, this is one of the most exciting live albums to be released in many, many years.

Their musical vision is one that's so obviously well-honed that they know exactly when to kick the music into overdrive before lulling the listener back into a state of sonic paralysis.

While Sleep can be regarded as eight plus hours of ambient drift, it also grows into a piece of considerable emotional weight.

Each of the tracks on The Loud Silence pointedly, yet effortlessly, foregrounds the folk-y marranzano within the otherwise calm, techno-centric sonic context that Dozzy has outlined notably on Plays Bee Mask and with his group Voices From The Lake.

While challenging intellectually, Fountain is also nothing less than a pleasing listen, like a delicate wine that opens over time.

After The Disco is an exceptionally successful record filled with the type of uplifting melody we've come to expect from the pair, as well as more direct, clearer lyrics and an overall sharper edge.

Unrepentant Geraldines has an irresistible lightness of touch about it: its charms initially seem modest next to the towers of ambition Amos has previously created, but the generosity of melody and sheer prettiness of the sound wins through in the end.

This is an album that resists being the Other, but also resists even entering into a discourse that would consider that the only position. It is music innately of itself, and a privilege to hear, even at a considerable distance.

It’s a forward-thinking, innovative distillation of the zeitgeist that pushes things forward. Indeed, while he’s had a co-sign from Drake, in the Scorpion-era Octavian’s new mixtape Spaceman is the kind of vibe Aubrey wishes he could make.

Aforger has a mysterious, almost uncanny quality to it beyond the more obvious emotional exorcism.

Medieval Femme plays to its strengths, with only a couple of disjointed cuts amongst an excellent collection, and even those keeping a tight ship on runtime.

It retains energy, but has enough twists and turns to still provide a consistently interesting landscape. They have made a beautiful confectionary, but one made with rigour, skill, and care. A joyful album, leaving me aching for a live performance.

Once you allow it to sink in, WIXIW becomes a hushed collection of voices.

Musically, it's painfully simple; sonically, it's painfully complex.

Everything you want from Richard Thompson is right here, right now, on Still. You wont notice Jeff Tweedy all that much, which is as big a compliment as one can make of any producer.

It sounds ominously worth, but on listening the level of fun is obvious too. Layer upon layer, spoken word singing weaves around carefully crafted atmospheric drum patterns and rudimentary grooves, sounding unpremeditated--spontaneously surreal.

Scar Sighted is still focused on conveying the noir duality found when the ugliness of atonality tries to devour moments of beautiful ill-quiet and creepy melody. This sonic ideology is perfectly produced and engineered by Billy Anderson (Pallbearer, Swans) who, along with Whitehead, captures the chaos in all of its multi-dimensional forms.

Who is William Onyeabor? is a surprising--yet camp--African reinterpretation of funk and disco, meant for our bodies and souls.

For all this fitful odysseying around, Hukkelberg is never more than three paces from home.

Hunter is a tempestuous album full of haunting, unsettling vocals; it resonates with evocative power.

Algiers will always be big, bold and unapologetically earnest and while you’d stop short of saying something like they’re a vital band for our times, it’s good to have someone around who cares for them as much as they do.

Threace possesses a wholly immersive sense of itself, and a free floating kinetic energy that is out of step with most contemporary riff-based music. Its command of sonic hypnosis is all the more impressive considering its brevity.

It is a huge pleasure and a relief that this comeback is so good, so strong.

Emerging as an outgrowth of Chicago house music, the principle formula is one that combines bubbling 808s and low end with angular snare patterns and looped snatches of vocal samples. It can often prove a jarring prospect in the first instance, but DJ Rashad’s Double Cup is a coherent and appealing starting point for the curious.

The blend of soul and rootsy grit may not be startlingly original, but here, at least, it's Van Etten's and nobody else's that truly shines.

Two sounds like Owls really ought to in 2014--as melancholic and complex as they've always been whilst expanding their sound as a second album should.

An extremely accessible record for a broad-range of new listeners and one that’s easy to return to.

There’s an endearing earnestness permeating Tuttle’s amble through the various landmarks of his beloved Alexandra Hills. Along the way, his arrangements, in a stream-of-conscious flow, create a childlike wonderment depicted in Miyazaki’s films, providing a restorative portal of escapism.

Howl is certainly at the more pop-oriented end of Foxx releases, and that is its strength.

While it’s a release that might disengage fans of her more sub-rosa earlier material of yore, Zola Jesus has evolved into an artist where pop--born from a need to mend from trauma or otherwise--is no longer a recurrent secondary descriptor, but a primary one. Danilova has loosened the shackles that have made this remarkable metamorphosis possible.

Each member’s lyrical proclivity, musical preference and sonic muscularity are given equal measure, a pagan triumvirate of penetrating, pointed liberation.

a softer focus feels like a breakthrough: simultaneously freer and more composed, closer and more abstract, sweeter and more caustic.

It's a brilliantly focused, glittering and energetic classy pop album that you'd never have expected from the authors of the disparate, overly quirky 'Does You Inspire You'.

When we hear that scratch of pick on acoustic, we're trained to expect some diary-entry-type emoting. Pratt plays against that expectation beautifully, leaving us just enough breadcrumbs to get us lost.

Short Movie stretches its cohesive motifs through all thirteen tracks, without sticking to a plot or forced narrative structure. Instead, the themes of self-reflection and search for belonging and identity move you wantonly through the album.

Without sacrificing any of the solidity, astringency or brutality akin to their previous blood-lettings, Zu spit out their most astral of recordings.

At many points the overall effect is hypnotizing with the way musical phrases interlock; the sounds are unpredictably stimulating, and the storytelling is relatable without coming off cheesy. Hive Mind, as the name suggests, presents The Internet as the tightest they’ve ever been.