For the most part though, this is a party for one, best enjoyed curled up with few distractions in the twilight hours. Sit, contemplate, and be absorbed into Aldous Harding’s spellbinding realm.

Pure X have emerged from a dark abyss into beatific splendour.

Contradictory, complex, and worthy of endless re-listens, Angel Olsen has crafted her most compelling record to date.

Experimental, psychedelic, mad, and oddly, very listenable pop music.

Instead of sewing the seed for a brighter future, TV on the Radio leap ahead with a renewed sense of being.

For every radio-ready chorus, there’s a fascinating tangent, and plenty of pointers towards Marmozets being the most important rock band we have.

A genius--and yes, perhaps a little bit crazy--with an attention to detail like no other, no matter what might slip from his grasp ($53 million for one, if recent statements are to be believed), Kanye West is in full control of every atom of The Life Of Pablo.

Wavves have created their most varied collection so far.

Falling somewhere between Poliça with an Americana tinge and a less naff Fiona Apple, the likes of ‘Inner Lover’ and ‘This Time’ are cerebral cornerstones that hold up a record characterised by evident catharsis. One for when you’re feeling reflective.

Having been better recognised as a key member of Wild Flag and Ex Hex in recent years, Mary Timony’s singular ability as a guitarist and songwriter had been forgotten somewhat; ‘Untame The Tiger’ serves as a stirring reminder of it.

Across the record, Thrice conjure an atmospheric beauty but maintain a connection to the dirt beneath their feet.

Unflinchingly honest, Wet don’t specialise in happy endings, but they’re always telling a good story.

Endearing and relatable without ever lapsing into total fondue, Faye Webster knows exactly how to roll with life’s punches, how to find the humour in a vulnerable moment. She knows she’s funny, but we think she’s pretty smart.

For all its adventures into the weird and wonderful, You’re Welcome retains the hallmarks of Wavves at their most recognisable and best.

The Underside Of Power is heavy going, but completely, necessarily so.

Why Make Sense? is a stripped back affair, an album of emotionally intelligent, lithe, pared back R&B.

Dave’s voice holds up well throughout, showing vulnerability. It makes for an exciting, experimental, laid back 11 tracks, and we can only hope this isn’t the last solo work from him.

There's enough variances in the sound, with the tracklisting set up in such as way that you notice the changes in style, to make sure you pay attention to every minute.

Rife with feelings of ephemeral isolation and deep personal anxieties, they have realised a new wave of modern storytelling, forging ‘The Line Is A Curve’ as an answer to an open call for honesty.

‘For Those That Wish to Exist’ is both furious in spirit and epic in scope. A sprawling fifteen-track opus that runs just shy of an hour, it tackles the weighty issues of the day head on.

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.

What’s most impressive is in how Cole’s story peaks towards the end. Instead of dragging you down or being overbearing, Is The Is Are’s tale finds stark truths when it closes.

25 25 sounds as great in a bedroom as it would do in any sweaty nightclub, and for that reason, it’s a triumph.

Like a pop phoenix rising from 2011’s ashes, ‘Let Her Burn’ is Rebecca Black showing us just what she’s capable of.

For all their goth rock exterior, My Mind Makes Noises is ultimately a pop record with substance at its core.

‘Perfect Picture’ is the pinnacle of today’s hyperpop yet steers away from its once abrasive nature towards a well-rounded, rebooted version: one where all that Hannah is and can be is indeed made picture perfect.

One of the consistently brilliant musicians working today hasn't let us down yet.

Coupling a dexterity honed over countless live shows with a wry sense of humour, with Down In Heaven the band find their own slice of paradise, primed and ready for anyone else who wants it too.

Written throughout their teenage years, they deliver an unfiltered journey of self-discovery.

It’s clear from the album that Tate McRae’s arsenal of jagged pop weapons is extensive, and can be expertly wielded when she wants.

A dazzlingly-polished record that sonically does justice to the boisterous energy of these clever subversions of the kind of melodic indie rock you’d normally associate with Pavement or Built to Spill.

To call untitled unmastered a follow-up would be unfair, but what it reveals is that rap’s most innovative has a lot more left in his locker.

An ambitious project, King Gizzard succeed into enticing you into fully absorbing yourself into their wild, bizarre universe.

Slowness doesn’t surrender its wonders easily. But when it does, and there’s no guarantee it will for everyone on every listen, it can be perfect.

hat this soundtrack does most though is demonstrate the versatility of the duo, proving there is far more to Summer Camp than just sunshine and lollipops.

If you’re new to Trail of Dead, this might be a good place to begin your investigations, and if you’ve lost track of them since their critical and commercial peak, then ‘Sound Of The Silk’ and IX as a whole is as good a way as you’ll find to rediscover this consistently fantastic band.

Raw and uncompromising, yet always harbouring a degree of melody, it’s the product of ten years of learning, and succeeds in deftly balancing subtle nuance with a sense of uncompromising aggression.

If there’s evidence of musical progression, meanwhile, it comes via an apparently new-found fixation Neil has with modular synths; he deploys them tastefully here, perhaps to most striking effect on ‘Chained to a Cloud’. In general, though, ‘everything is alive’ very much gives off the sense that the slower gestations lead to the richest rewards.

Dave Longstreth conjures up something resembling a clear picture from all the record’s wildly disparate elements, and ‘Dirty Projectors’ serves to unify his most experimental moments with the door-opening impact of ‘Bitte Orca’.

A stirring and immediate listen, as Charli takes us with her on her lockdown emotional rollercoaster in real time.

While it’s not always the easiest of listens, the raw emotional honesty and potency of her arrangements makes it truly a pleasure to have Leslie Feist back.

As something cooked up on short notice, it’s a glorious postcard from an unprecedented global moment, and a wonderful teaser for what is to come.

Colors is Beck at his most exuberant, concocting weird, wonderful dancefloor fillers like a mad disco scientist. Good things come to those who wait.

This album feels purposely written to soundtrack their future barbecues, like they’re just playing what they’d want to dance to. That kind of pure, genuine enthusiasm is always infectious, and ‘Marble Skies’ feels like a joy ride.

With lyrics that simmer with self-awareness serving as the record’s backbone, the obvious points of comparison are Parquet Courts and Car Seat Headrest, but the idiosyncrasies that really make ‘Collector’ tick feel as if they’re all Disq’s own, from the subtle subversions of pop and rock tropes to the wry-beyond-their-years witticisms at every turn.

A post-break-up sexual revolution decorated with metaphor and sonic experimentation, that’s both dizzyingly unique and creatively assertive, this is a comeback that demands accolade.

This is a record replete with droning psychedelia, an infectious energy and a sinister, carnivalesque feel.

Citizen haven’t mellowed per se, the emotion on ‘As You Please’ is as grand and raw as ever, but they have refined their delivery, and their latest album manages not to shortchange that underlying sentiment while expanding their sonic palette.

Love or loathe their destructive attitude towards convention, Coming Apart is an exciting, if extremely strange album.

Whether figuratively (say, the disjointed delivery and post-punk rhythms of The Slits and the fearlessness of Kathleen Hanna) or literally (that Spice Girls riff in ‘F.U.U’), Dream Wife have taken all they’ve absorbed from decades of iconic women and created, well, a dream of a record.

It’s difficult to imagine the results being this good if Cross had limited studio time, or if she tried to record vocal takes with strangers listening in.

[Singer Colin Meloy's] ability to write hooks is still as strong as ever, and the narrative prowess he has always made absolute use of is ever stirring.

They're a throwback to the eighties heyday of playing around with the familiar shapes and sounds of songs whilst still being, well, listenable and accessible.

From the hyperactive ‘Momentz’, which sees De La Soul returning to the fold once more, to the creepy, intense Grace Jones-featuring ‘Charger’, Humanz is by far the weirdest Gorillaz album ever released, and a struggle to get through in one sitting. There’s a certain cohesion here though, largely focused around dissatisfaction and rallying together.

On the surface Of Monsters And Men’s second album is a lush master-class in pop sensibilities and folk storytelling but Beneath The Skin is more than a name. Scratch below that glittering surface and you’ll discover a band that has discovered themselves.

The music itself is bolder, yes, but still operating on the same cloudy register, stamping above experimentation into the domain of an artist who is more determined than ever.

For now, it’s hard to know whether ‘…Pt. 1’ is indicative of the overall direction of ‘Fever Dreams’, or merely one facet of it. Either way, it’s the polished sound of Johnny Marr putting his best foot forward.

Aluna and George balance each other in the perfect see-saw, and Body Music is an absolute playground of pop music.

The Altar is very close to being a razor-sharp pop blueprint.

Jersey Devil comes with a real sense of sharp focus; cleverly worked melodies and handsomely crafted choruses come to the fore, pushing the woozy soundscapes to the back.

She is as captivating as ever, but the rougher edges have been removed slightly giving us a more polished, and immediate, album.

2014 saw many bands trying to recreate sounds of the past in their own way, but with Viet Cong, the band are remoulding genre conventions and confirming that they’re not settling for anything other than pushing the boundaries.

With every sound shoved forward in the mix, oodles of white space floats inbetween the sound-splats. Every moment is for the taking. Painting With marks an immediate, and physical new direction, and anything seems possible.

A record that improves on their second effort, placing them in a strong position to break through even further.

It might not be perfect and it might be reductive in parts, but it’s not contrived or calculated.

Kintsugi sees their eighteen-year-in-the-making intentions fully realised, and--eight albums in--Death Cab For Cutie are born again; a little cracked, but all the more golden for it.

Sprinter is a bruising, brilliant record from a singular talent. It won’t soothe or placate. It’s all teeth.

‘Past // Present // Future’ does what it says on the tin in a masterful way, melding the influences of the past into something that sounds shiny and modern, and achieving the rare feat of making pop punk still sound distinctive.

EL VY could have been many things for Matt Berninger--in the end his first non-National album serves to take him away from firm rooting in gloom to a certain extent, but largely just exhibits him doing everything he does so well, just with a few tweaks and exceptions.

IV is a wondrous beast.

At its heaviest, ‘TEXIS’ is blistering, ‘Justine Go Genesis’ as mind-bendingly intense as it gets, with closer ‘Hummingbird Bomb’ and single ‘Locust Laced’ not far behind. And when synths do take centre stage, no impact is lost: ‘True Seekers’ and ‘I’m Not Down’ are akin to a more in-your-face Chvrches, Alexis’ vocal sitting juxtaposed with expansive electronics. It’s the best of both worlds.

The music is the same gorgeous blend of folk-rock in the vein of Joni Mitchell and Stevie Nicks as on previous albums, and indeed, many of the song titles, such as ‘Children of the Empire’, feel lifted from the dusty cover of a forgotten LP of ballads.

Streamlined and with every moment as vital as the next yet playful and curious, Heydays manages to craft a new path from a well-travelled landscape.

It should come as little surprise that Lydia has spent time on the standup circuit, and it’s this ability to send up any notions of seriousness that’s Gustaf’s greatest trick. Add some suitable spiky, metronomic riffs and ‘Audio Drag…’ is anything but.

Gallows at their harshest, their angriest and their most thrilling and it turns out that no change in frontman can stop that.

It stands before you with the reverence of a cathedral and leaves you with a lasting sense of piety and clarity.

The LP’s darker moments are its most affecting, but the playful brushes of humour throughout never diminish anything; in fact, they make ‘It Is What It Is’ a richer, more human experience.

Lysandre frequently charms. It is a primarily low-key statement, but does enough to suggest that Owens' future post-Girls may be very promising.

Still, for all his determination to thumb his nose at convention, I Love You, Honeybear finds Tillman falling face first into perhaps the most expected of musical tropes: the “mature” sophomore release.

While more of a slow burn than his previous efforts, ‘Gold-Diggers Sound’ sees Leon Bridges shine brighter as a songwriter, as an artist and as a man than ever.

Richly nuanced, effortlessly cool and at times beautifully bleak, ‘Home for Now’ feels like the sound of Babeheaven finding their feet in an atmosphere of uncertainty.

‘Migration Stories’, might be his most impressionistic yet, a collection that began life as eleven woozy instrumentals that came together during sessions in Québec with two members of Arcade Fire, Tim Kingsbury and Richard Reed Parry.

There are plenty of shout-a-long moments along the way though (the frantic whoa’s and blah-blah’s on ‘Lionheart’ arrive at exactly the right time), and all-in-all it’s an extremely commendable effort that solidifies PUP as one of this year’s bands to get sweaty to at a festival.

Witty, complex, and endlessly intriguing, Lust For Life is a painstakingly woven record from start to finish, with very few gripes.

What you see is what you get with Kero Kero Bonito. Instant sugar rush pop with extra icing on top, they’ve perfected the quick fix formula.

Westerman may be less accessible than either artist, but his latest is just as notable in its ambition. ‘An Inbuilt Fault’ is an acquired taste, but well worth the effort.

It all feels remarkably familiar, but given the record’s pedigree, that’s far from a bad thing.

‘As Above, So Below’ feels more refined. It’s fair to say there’s no one else quite doing it like Sampa The Great right now.

An album of shifting, shimmering textures that is both a spaced out exploration and the perfect pop album.

It's a patchy but rich tapestry of sounds whose strange shape bewitches you.

Even with a debut album, their ascent has been so steep the opening salvo feels like a premature greatest hits.

Why Love Now truly comes to life when the band uses their punishing sound to explore the absurdity of modern masculinity.

Poignant, refined and still packed with relatable energy, the duo feel even more confident second time around.

With this second album, they’re still offering an exciting, engaging alternative to pure chart pop, and they do it so bloody well.

A record which triumphs whether you’re a Scot or not, casting a very golden glow on the culture and traditions of such a vibrant country.

These are pretty, sweet, gorgeously simple songs, some not fully formed, which have come, been and gone.

He hasn’t lost his knack for a great pop hook, as demonstrated by the bubbling synths and snappy 808s on ‘It’s Good To Be Back’. It certainly is.

This is a seductive if not immediately obvious piece of work, her adventures into folky-jazz work well, never straying too far from pleasing familiarity into all-out experimentalism.