Multiple minute-long interludes flesh Wildflower out, feeling like breaks to an all-out, never-ending stage show. It needed to take something substantial to feel satisfied after those sixteen long years, and The Avalanches have gone beyond their calling.

It’s chaos, the most extreme kind of hybrid imaginable. With that freedom, they sound more excitable and progressive than ever, like they’re chasing a pot of gold that contains endless truths.

When it works, it really works.

As expected, the album’s only low moment comes with the introduction of vocals on ‘Richie Sacramento’. Thankfully, this doesn’t last long. The group are soon back on top of things with the majestic ‘Drive The Nail’ and we’re instantly transported back to their uniquely-formed wonderland.

It moves away from what many a critic will lazily refer to as Burial-esque, but still retains the throbbing heart that's always sat at the centre of his music.

If straying always leads to things as great as this, Iceage should continue veering from the path.

The atmosphere isn't always strictly severe, knowing right when to let up with gorgeous melodies seeping through the chiselled cracks. These moments save the record from being vociferous without a cause, allowing the more vehement moments to speak louder than they would otherwise.

Spiraling from stripped back laments into squalling chaos with an innate dexterity, Johnny Foreigner subvert their surroundings into a place of their own making.

For Nils Frahm, this record is nothing new: on his terms it is not extraordinary. But for mere mortals, All Melody is a bracing cacophony of the possibilities of minute sonic experimentation.

Beyond what has come before, ‘PAINLESS’ feels like a true representation of its creator; simultaneously delicate, fierce, vulnerable and fiery.

One of the most endlessly intriguing albums of the year so far.

It’s the underlying sense of unease and something to prove that really adds the edge here.

Nothing here will quite fulfill the satisfaction of her original work, but as a fun, thoughtful way to ground oneself during quarantine, ‘Covers' is an audition that is guaranteed to see her through to the next round.

‘Night Network’, far from being the exercise in kicking and screaming that it might have been, is instead a study in elegance in the face of adversity. The Cribs are back.

It may not be one for the impatient listener--Centralia can drone a little in places, and almost touches on music reminiscent of that you'd relax to while having a deep tissue massage. But take the time to listen properly and you'll realise it's beautifully crafted.

That ‘Laurel Hell’ exists only because it almost didn’t gives it its power. It provides the space for her mastery of songwriting, and Patrick Hyland’s understated yet orchestral production places Mitski in a realm all her own.

There are playful moments - a self-referential take on Cat Stevens’ ‘Pop Star’, in which the 80-year-old icon declares his showbiz intentions, chief among them - but the album is best when it embraces the singer’s age, experience and stature.

yeule’s willingness to play with sonic landscape and sci-fi dystopia means their version of emo is more infectiously haunting than the blueprint.

Hopelessness is an exercise in provocation. It’s anti-apathy, determined to stir thought, even if that’s total disgust and dejection.

Packed with brilliance, ambition and warmth, SVIIB may be the full stop on the band’s work together, but it’s an album that will stand as the perfect goodbye.

A big and brilliant step out of the box.

Their more collaborative process has brought an album that, while rarely deviating from that Hot Chip sound, feels lighter and freer. Like a band finally feeling confident in their own skin, inviting us to find escape from whatever troubles us in their music.

A poignant, thought-provoking record on so many levels.

It’s smart and knowing, flitting between perspectives with ease. Barely a year after his last, Josh Tillman makes this shit look easy.

Black Country, New Road’s seriousness and determined intellectualism is sometimes to their detriment.

Because despite the weight that this album carries, the overall feel is of a celebration of life itself.

The power and ferocity with which they do so across the album--as well as its rollocking instrumentation and clear social conscience--makes it a triumph.

It is a work that demonstrates how sheer and utter horror can be turned into music, and while that may not appeal to the majority, the fact that someone is brave enough to do it is really quite brilliant.