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

‘Happier Than Ever’, then, is not just a triumph in progressing a signature sound into new territories, but a lesson in how to own your reality with confidence and class.

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.

It’s novelistic. It’s smart. Of course it is, it’s a Destroyer album.

Both heavy and cumbersome and light and uncertain, it will prove difficult for some to find an entrance to it, but once you’re inside you’ll find yourself enveloped by its bold experimentation and the stunning way they execute it.

It starts with a slow drip and builds to a raging flood. It’s irresistible and so eloquently convincing that despite their claims of failure, Protomartyr are unstoppable.

They may be using Morbid Stuff to face their demons head on, but there’s a sense of reckless abandon to the whole thing that makes it entirely freeing.

It’s uncompromising yet nonetheless inventive, with eccentric flows and inspired production choices.

‘I Inside the Old Year Dying’ will likely take some time to fully unravel, but on the surface, it looks like a daring return.

On all fronts, with ‘Daddy’s Home’, St Vincent has delivered spectacularly.

‘The Overload’ lives up to its hype with flying colours. Brilliantly constructed to unfurl like some sordid soap opera of Brexit Britain, it brims with vignettes populated by instantly-recognisable caricatures of the now.

It’s musical exorcism at its very best, rallying against socially-imposed doubt and anxiety and - in its unique horror - finding welcome moments of inner peace.

A dystopian, focused pessimism that sounds (unfortunately) exactly like the world outside, but doesn’t sound quite like another band on the planet. A perfect soundtrack to nagging doubts and creeping realisations.

After Saturation's freewheeling spirit and an insatiable appetite for fun, Iridescence had to confront the past nine months, and make a statement as to how the band move forward. It does so emphatically.

While some might mourn the loss of their one-time raucousness, ‘Gigi’s Recovery’ shows that their momentum swings only forwards.

Aat large, the album is a quiet predator.

A bright, well constructed and boldly vivid first outing, showing a first rate ear for instantly osmosing melody, this debut is written for the Christine in everyone.

There’s a track or two that don’t add much to the album’s direction, ‘Maggot’ being one of them. But on the whole, this feels like Amyl and the Sniffers finding their purpose. It’s something to behold.

All three members are now capable of operating on a different standing, and when I See You strikes best, it’s when these level-ups lock limbs.

Jack Antonoff’s fingerprints are easy to spot. The producer layers Taylor’s intimate stories with electronic drums that push certain moments to understated crescendos.

Deafheaven finally look comfortable in their many different skins, their opposing worlds gliding together seamlessly, able to change between brutally heavy and light as air in seconds.

It makes for a quiet reinvention in the face of adversity, with Le Bon as stylistically light on her feet as ever.

Accompanied with her scatter board samples and untold charm, ‘Juno’ is a resounding celebration of existence and Remi Wolf is the MC.

In short, Silences is the sound of an artist grown tremendously in confidence and hitting her stride.

‘Model Citizen’ takes everything that has driven the scene forward and injects an unapologetic - and very welcome - Gen Z spin.

It’s a record that does more than just pitch him just leagues ahead of anyone else in the game; it’s a portrait of a man who’s more than happy to invent a whole new one.

Laura Marling crafts yet another hard-to-pin, experimental, statement. A shape-shifting artist who never pauses, the record patters quietly away in a flurry of footsteps and birdsong, as the elusive morning finally arrives.

Less wildly daring than its predecessors, yet remaining totally assured in its vision, ‘Seeking New Gods’ stands as another finely-crafted addition to Gruff Rhys’ illustrious repertoire.

It all works together, amping up the winking, cheeky side of country while also showing CMAT to be an artist enthralled by the genre but not beholden to it.

Suede maintain their magnitude through emotional craft - single ‘15 Again’ is the perfect microcosm of ‘Autofiction’’s ups and downs, its euphoric chorus built around painstaking regret. In essence, ‘Autofiction’ finds Suede still fiercely in motion.

A truly seminal record, ‘Ultra Truth’ is a radiant voyage for Daniel Avery, and for everyone who dares join him for the experience.

Measured and calm where ‘I, Gemini’ was erratic, and packing some of the strongest pop punches we’ve heard in yonks, Let’s Eat Grandma look like they could go anywhere from here.

For those who missed the rabble-rousing of ‘Dogrel’ but liked the darkness of ‘A Hero’s Death’, this record splits the perfect difference, sealing it along the middle with the superglue of a band who now know exactly where they’re going. Truth be told, they’ve never been more at home.

For the most part this is a flawless, breathless lap around both pop and "underground" music. 'Devotion' is the sound of modern pop, modern love - and heartbreak.

‘Classic Objects’ walks the line between art and humanity, between nature and fabrication, between the real and the conceptual. It’s the audible equivalent of a painting affixed with human hair.

Each track feels like a different corner of Pusha T’s mind, all coming together to form a complete brain, glimmering with glitz and glamour on the surface and exploring darkness and deep thought below. If this is ‘The Prelude’, imagine what Pusha T can do with the rest.

Muchacho is a record which can soothe even the darkest nights and moods.

Totalling eight songs and clocking in at just over 30 minutes, Two Parts Together feels surprisingly well-rounded and complete, with strange journeys taking place within each track, and enough crunch to keep things exciting right up to its thundering climax.

It’s unlikely to win over the naysayers, but, for those already enamoured with their kitchen sink Dadaism, ‘Stumpwork’ is yet more magic from Dry Cleaning.

It presents itself as an almost impossible follow-up, but Goodness more than holds its weight, and shows its beauty in time.

This solitary endeavour - which she describes as sitting in front of a mirror and staring at herself - results in near-complete reinvention, all while retaining melodic guts and expanding the malleability of her misfit artistry.

Bobby is a jack of all trades when it comes to surmising his subject matter while balancing the line of fact, fun, and fierce emotion. It makes for one of the year’s most essential records yet.

This is intelligent dance music (with no capital letters)--clever and warm, sophisticated and joy

To call ‘Topical Dancer’ pure fun feels to diminish the real sentiment behind the lyrics; to pigeonhole it as wholly political does down the infectiousness that runs through its core.

There’s nothing about the album that’s easy or comfortable to listen to, but it’s so meticulously constructed and so raw across each fragment of existence yeule lays out that its most perplexing moments become its most moving.

It’s verbose and it aims high and it’s not a record you can stick on in the background while you play Candy Crush. But unplug from this modern game of life just for a little while and it’s a very, very special reward indeed.

A restrained pace imbues the album with a feeling of deep sedation. It’s a blissful listen from start to finish.

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.

At every moment ‘Home Video’ presents a vivid snapshot into an upbringing that fundamentally defines Lucy Dacus’ adulthood. In each tale she finds both loss and hope, a musical representation of the intricate jigsaw of life.

Not an easy listen - as one might expect - but definitely a rich, rewarding one.

Boards of Canada have created a fascinating vision, one that will reveal more and more gifts over time.

‘This Is Why’ is a blistering melding pot of artistry.

He may know damn well how to deliver a banger, but also when to tone it back a bit too. Though it may not all hit hard and there are some sonic kinks that could’ve been ironed out, when it does hit, it’s impossible not to be swept up.

Despite the foreboding darkness within their offerings, there are still glimpses of light that shimmer within.

The War on Drugs are reliable - not in the sense that they’re workhorses, but more in that Adam’s years-long close study of guitar rock has now evidently become an incontestable mastery.

Spoken word moments peppered throughout hark back to the ‘80s on an album that pushes musical boundaries well past the present day. In sound, it’s as bold as the personality that runs through it.

It all sounds a little inconceivable on paper, but is tied together and brought to life by a singer-songwriter who evades pigeonholing--on purpose or accidentally, it doesn’t really matter--and provides a debut that’s all her own.

Goldfrapp's singles collection is a triumph of compellingly brilliant classy pop.

Radiant, joyous record.

Whether it matches up to its self-proclaimed sister record or not, 2020 has seen Taylor Swift deliver over two hours of the most relatable stories in contemporary pop. There are lyricists and there are storytellers, and in a year of uncertainty and inconsistency, Taylor Swift has emerged as the most assured songwriter of her generation.

Jenny Lewis has never sounded this confident in her own skin.

Unpacking messy feelings over delicate guitars, Crushing may have been born from a place of confusion, but Julia Jacklin’s voice sounds clearer than ever.

For the most part ‘Dance Fever’ is an expert revamp from one of alternative music’s torch-bearing misfits, a welcome shot of fairy-tale hedonism ripe for post-pandemic dancefloor indulgence.

Not so much Marika 3.0 as the Marika who was always there, but tougher, stronger and more triumphant than ever.

While ‘Yellow’ mixes it up nicely with freak-outs, group chants, P-funk and mellowing R&B, it is lyrically where the album wearies.

This is a second album that builds upon the foundations they’ve laid so far and opens up their world to all manner of possibilities. If ‘Dogrel’ promised that Fontaines DC were gonna be big, it’s with ‘A Hero’s Death’ that they prove they were worth the hype all along.

Their fifth album is anchored by thudding, motorik beats that create a dancier base on which James exorcises his deepest demons, and it’s an even more intense form of communication.

Much like what has come before, it’s in this melancholic in-between that ‘Little Oblivions’ finds its voice; a soundtrack for those searching for hope in difficult times, particularly when the wider world has removed easy distraction from the pain.

Another truly original triumph.

Ultimately, ‘Nymph’ is a climax – a culmination of years of experimental foreplay – that puts Shygirl on the map as one of the UK’s freshest voices. It honours the altar at which Shygirl was born, but gently trickles into an adjacent brook, to where we might see her next.

This album only re-affirms his unique and inimitable talent.

Aidan’s scathing wit is more incendiary than ever: the vivid, often lurid portraits he paints of the society around him feel more vital than ever, as does his ability to navigate them with a grim chuckle.

By intention or coincidence, the band's debut boils over with frustration. And all you crave is a piece of it.

Definitely an album of two halves, by the time you hit ‘Ferris Wheel’ and ‘Destroyer’ the record drifts off into Dylan-isms that while are nice enough, don’t carry the same idiosyncratic weight of ‘Singing Saw’ or ‘Drunk and On A Star’ that will some day carve out a classic from this hugely promising talent.

In and out of the studio, Ryley Walker has been one of indie rock’s more colourful characters for a while now; ‘Course in Fable’ only reinforces that view.

After eleven songs of depth, colour and excitement--songs that grow more vivid with every listen--it’s always a shame to reach the slow decompression of ‘The End, Again’, but as the title suggests, it won’t be the first time, nor the last.

‘Razzmatazz’ is fun, flamboyant, and entirely of its time. A record that truly lives up to its name.

It seals the chapter of Jordan’s late teens, early twenties, and it lands up being his finest work by a country mile.

It’s older, wiser and more reflective. A wonderful surprise album whose existence in 2023 actually makes perfect sense.

Here, the sonic experimentation finds his production and arrangements reaching the same imaginative heights. A thrilling and unpredictable addition to Villagers’ gleaming canon.

Not always an easy listen, but a consistently thrilling ride.

It’s as fun and messy as it is timelessly trendy; as silly as it is erotic.

Time away hasn’t dulled No Age’s musical sword--they’re sharper and brighter than ever.

The impatient will find ‘Once Twice Melody’ a tad wishy-washy, but for those who persevere there’s still a lot going on beneath the waves.

It’s a record swathed in simple but effective neo-soul melodies, echoing Chance, but also early 00s R&B with its gentle pianos and smattering of light hi-hats and percussion. Warner’s own languid style of delivery only adds to the lilting nature.

As Biffy-ish as ever, with its cranked-up guitars and stadium-sized hooks, it’s also a deliciously unusual listen, shifting gears from the dub-flecked ‘Instant History’ to the unhinged scorcher of ‘Cop Syrup’. And while ‘A Celebration of Endings’ does explore the current frustrations felt by the band, both political and personal (“We’re fighting an ugly war / And it’s no good to freak out,” sings Simon Neil on ‘Weird Leisure’) it also offers up a brand of gut-wrenching, defiant hope.

Silent Earthling is far from an reinvention: it’s simply Three Trapped Tigers adapting and tinkering with everything that made ‘Route One Or Die’ such an exciting debut, to end up here with a leaner, more focused, brilliant second album.

She conveys a depth of emotional exploration in her lyrics that goes beyond even her previous work and sets Petal up as an affecting songwriter.

Well and truly living up to his aim of creating a timeless classic, ‘Twin Heavy’ sees Willie delivering a more concise and cohesive record than his previous, leaning into a more distinctive sound and crafting an album that shines throughout.

Bikini Daze proves that MØ has pretty much mapped out every aspect of her identity; it's up to her which path she chooses to take.

Singles ‘Level’ and ‘Being Around’ are given a new lick of paint, while newies ‘I Wish It Was Sunday - an invigorating thrash defined by screeching guitar solos - and closer ‘Boring’--a live favourite that sounds even more intense on record--show that Our Girl can more than hold their own across a full-length. It’s what’ll come next that we’re most excited about though.

An album that manages to be both delicate and thunderous at once, ‘I Slept On The Floor’ is a potent and empowering statement of intent.

While The National don't progress or indeed offer anything new to outstanding cynics, they instead rejoice in their strengths of detailing life and all its sorry baggage in the most beautiful of ways.

Tempest has delivered a compelling, thought-provoking insight into our troubled times.

What’s unique about Pinegrove is how they compress uncertainty, doubt and fear without being overbearing.

Mike Hadreas takes a scalpel to the inner-workings of his creative brain, and the love that feeds it. An absolutely flooring record from once-in-a-generation talent.

There’s still that personable rawness to her production – the synthetic drums and often sparse arrangement mirroring her frequently despondent lyrical themes (“The death of everything real has happened…” begins ‘apathy is wild’). But her vocal offers warmth.

This album, for a short time, will make you question your sanity and the world around you.