Oh No doesn’t quite signal a reinvention for Lanza, but a move towards one end of her capabilities, one which consistently brings excitement, energy and openings for new paths for her to head down.

If you like a theatrical sound with a dose of anarchy, quirk and unpredictability, this record comes highly recommended.

I Had A Dream That You were Mine is a record that manages to capture that closeness and intimacy perfectly.

With this record Hopkins has finally succeeded in putting on record a definitive statement of his musical vision and ideas.

The songs only sound sleeker, more melodic, more intensely stoned.

Call it chill wave, call it dream pop, call her a bedroom producer - this album’s full of enough variety and adventure to make such generalisations moot. A real triumph.

On ‘Radical Romantics’, Fever Ray posits the idea of love as an imperative condition for human function, and probes into both its darkest corners as well as the simple, mortal desire for affection, producing a fascinating study of electro-pop in the meantime.

With fewer hands stirring the pot this time around, she’s had ample opportunity to come even more into her own, pulling off the bouncy, subtly ska-influenced WLW bop ‘hover like a GODDESS’ and introspective guitar pop groove of ‘curious/furious’ and ‘ur a stranger’ with stylish ease. Most intriguing, perhaps, are her forays into post-hardcore, unleashing a tremendous scream over the top of crunching guitars in the dying moments of ‘ it’s my fault’, but not everything goes quite so smoothly.

The separate successes of ‘Turn Into’ and ‘Everybody Works’ cement that Jay Som is absolutely a name to know, and this LP in particular proves that in addition to consistent, honest, attention-worthy output she’s also willing to poke around the margins of her comfort zone.

Ambition often manifests itself into self-indulgence, and from the off you're convinced Field Of Reed could slip into said territory. But it's an exceptional case, where its makers hit the jackpot, where imagination runs riot and gets away with every daring feat, each one more foolish than the previous.

‘Anime, Trauma and Divorce’ is as wry as documents of desperate times get. Life may have given Open Mike Eagle some fresh citrus fruit, but this resulting record is some sweet, sweet lemonade.

It’s vulnerable, it’s heartfelt, and above all it feels real.

The only real criticism is that, in trying to present all of her sides, Nao hasn’t been ruthless enough in the cutting room. At eighteen tracks, For All We Know feels its length but, to be fair, it’s hard to suggest what to trim.

A riveting fullness echoes throughout the record.

There’s a power that comes from laying fears and anxieties out, admitting that answers can’t be immediately found. Cannily similar to the progression of The Japanese House’s music over the past few years, this exact approach has led her to a magical debut.

On ‘Chloë and the Next 20th Century’, Father John Misty is transporting himself to a different world; it sounds pretty damn sweet over there.

Jack Cooper’s soft vocals are so understated that for long sections it feels like an instrumental record, but this only adds to the album’s blissful allure. It’s a delicate piece of work that somehow it manages to feel fully-formed at the same time. And it’s this contradiction that makes it such a compelling piece of work.

Full marks for exploration, but in this case the simplest tricks work the best.

Though unlikely to win over those who weren’t already fans, ‘sketchy.’ is a more mature offering than previous Tune-Yards records though still retains much of the tripped-out whimsy that first made them so infectious.

There is perhaps no band with a greater appreciation of the sheer joy and thrill of pop music in its purest form than Saint Etienne. 'Words And Music By Saint Etienne' is not only their own unique take on what pop means to them it is also an incredibly fine album.

A record that barely takes its foot off the gas pedal. This onslaught would make even the most hardcore listener flinch. Bring earplugs.

Tourist In This Town’s strengths are also its weaknesses though. The visceral, in-the-moment recording at times gives the record a life and character that feels charming and personal, but elsewhere feels a little too rushed, and being a little heavy-handed in the use of synths and backing results in sensory overload and slightly jarring instrumental clashes.

The labyrinthine complexities of human nature are explored here in all their grit and glory, but it’s the combination of Stormzy’s charm and his knack for storytelling that allows ‘H.I.T.H’ to glimmer with a universal appeal that will please both his mainstream audience and grime fans of old; an almost impossible task that he’s amazingly pulled off.

‘The Car’ is Alex and crew’s most soundtrack-like work so far, flowing together in one long movement made cohesive by Bridget Samuels’ lush orchestral arrangements which adorn it.

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.

‘Versions of Modern Performance’ is a gleaming window into a new generation of great American guitar bands.

It has the potential to be an outstanding listen, and it would have been if ‘Other Language’ and ‘In Blur’ had a slightly stronger sense of direction, but Deafheaven has still crafted a record to get lost in. The metal purists crying sellout will sorely be missing out.

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.

Frequently unintelligible, and downright bizarre lyrics only serve to add to the personality of his genre-bending music. Ultimately, Cows On Hourglass Pond is a new kind of psych-folk that Avey Tare can proudly call his own.

From micro passages like the 30-second ‘An Audition’ to the 14-minute swell of ambient vocal track ‘A Chorus Of One’, he successfully contrasts optimism and tenderness with hopelessness and terror, with an impressive breadth of emotion being evoked across each track.

Self-produced and largely self-performed, Vagabon celebrates her heritage and her community, but most of all her creative freedom to challenge musical boundaries and to break away from the norm.

Across ‘Cool It Down’, Yeah Yeah Yeahs remain true to their roots without making it sound like a nostalgic grab for previous glory. ... It turns out Yeah Yeah Yeahs 2.0 is exactly what 2022 needs.

‘Social Lubrication’ sees the trio loosening up and letting go, resulting in a record that’s both a progression, and that shows off wonderfully just what made them so exciting to begin with.

An album that’s ultimately OK with not being OK, it’s for that reason alone that it may just be perfect.

It’s obvious where Marlon Williams’s influences lie but he expertly melds his roots with elements of chamber pop and ‘50s heartbreak amid a sea of textures. Make Way For Love is nuanced, subtle and evocative.

It’s not all change though, there is still a sense of continuity.

Familiars may not be as obviously fervently intense as their previous work but the truth is its emotional weapons have just been wrapped in a beautiful bow.

Offering up another soundtrack for the disenfranchised and downtrodden, Sister Cities is a renewed example of just how powerful and poignant The Wonder Years can be.

The band’s new, self-titled album sees them ageing gracefully, but not without tweaks, even if reinvention is too strong a word.

All in all, it is as engrossing as it is innocently delightful.

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.

Pissed Jeans are loud, they're angry; they're buoyant, they're funny; they're introspective and melancholic. They're totally original, and of their time.

His perfectly serviceable croon is not quite strong enough to carry it across 16 long tracks. If only he’d given ‘Lightning People’ to Liam Gallagher, it might well have been the soundtrack of the summer. Moments of greatness are plentiful, but ‘Fever Dreams…’ shines brightest when Marr lets his guitar do the talking.

Proffering intimate lyrics on private grief and personal growth (‘Erase’ finds inspiration in the lifecycle of a moth) with the most gorgeously purified vocal shimmer; it’s the cherry that tops this most satisfying of releases, destined to be set on repeat.

The stories being told match in tone, driven forward through a tantalising mix of urgency and despondency – mirroring the detached hustle of England’s capital.

There’s a little less edge than on debut ​‘Smiling With No Teeth’, but a softer lens offers more variety, and Genesis Owusu sails the spectrum of human experience with ease to make something just as weighty as the literature that inspired it.

A tightrope walk between impulse and laser-point precision, Human Performance is Parquet Courts at their most knotted.

Grant has a fascinating combination of wisdom, world-weary cynicism and righteous anger; it never grates.

A luscious, rich selection of otherworldly tracks, disparate in nature but still oddly cohesive. And it’s as timeless as that dreamy world JK Rowlin

It’s by far the happiest MUNA have sounded; a celebratory expression of queer love that loses none of the trio’s magic.

With Not Even Happiness she takes the listener on a beautiful, thoughtful journey.

Slowing down and refining his output has allowed Alex the time to make Rocket a brilliantly considered next step. It’s also his catchiest record yet.

The latter half of the record segues together without pausing to come up for air - and you can bet your bottom dollar that once ‘all this’ has blown over and live music returns, these tracks will come into their own. Until then, crank up the volume and stomp around your prison cell.

It’s more of a slow burner--not so instantly gratifying as previous works--but the atmosphere of these tracks really gets beneath you. It’s their most affecting work to date by some stretch.

Harsh, aggressive, hungry, and urgent, Adore Life is everything a Savages album should be. Unexpectedly - and this proves its greatest success.

An swirling, abstract painting of an album, and an eclectic slow burner, Painted Ruins serves more as a fascinating indication of where Grizzly Bear could head next than anything else.

Father Of The Bride is a joyous, fearless listen that builds on Vampire Weekend’s steeped history while simultaneously paying less attention to it than ever.

Sunshine Rock does exactly what it says on the tin. A rock album that sparkles; a taut collection of Bob Mould cuts that fits timelessly into his ever-expanding legacy.

Overgrown demonstrates that for all Blake's myriad talents as a producer he still isn't able to carve a great song out of a simple idea.

This album is about taking control back. It does it with conviction and vigour, with squalling guitars and wiry bass lines.

Change, escape and identity are not easy things to navigate, and ‘Preacher’s Daughter’ is the dark, unsettling, sprawling beauty that comes out of it.

Deerhunter have often dealt in lofty, intense blows, but on album eight, they provide a breezy distraction from the chaos outside, and it’s most welcome.

This is 2020 in pained, reverb dripping sound waves. This is the isolation. This is the pandemic. This is everything. The doom may have arrived, but at least Protomartyr are back in our lives.

Listening to ‘Cave World’ is akin to dipping your whole body in murky, warm sea water - you feel blinded and a little bit disgusted, but overall excited to explore your new surroundings.

An album of stirring highs and deeply intimate confessions takes the traditional live album to a new level.

Fans of ‘Complete Surrender’’s sonic diversity, too, might find ‘Now That I’m a River’ similarly one-note to ‘One Day All of This Won’t Matter Any More’. It’s a better record, though, primarily because Charles sounds genuinely refreshed.

What makes ‘A Picture of Good Health’ so vital is the unshakable sense that the gestation of LIFE’s firebrand formula has run parallel to the country’s political spiral. Now, they’re hitting their stride just as the Brexit void looms. Accordingly, this record is indispensable.

As a whole, this ambitious project can be an oblique listen but Acaster’s enthusiastic delight in experimental, underground music is on full display.

The collaborative spirit of producer Fred and long-time friend Haai flows throughout ‘Mid Air’’s eleven-strong homage to an unforgettable era, but it’s Romy’s autobiographical candour that adds a depth beyond the record’s inarguable ecstasy.

‘Turn The World On’ is classic, sparkling Bombay, whereas ‘Rural Radio Predicts The Future’’s two-minute instrumental concludes with almost hyperpop bleeps; the Albarn-featuring ‘Heaven’ is loose and trip-hoppy, while highlight ‘Meditate’ (with Nilüfer Yanya) climbs the guitar scales into a twisted climax. A triumph.

Decidedly mature yet still with that same self-aware playfulness, this is undoubtedly his most eclectic offering to date.

Its meandering ways may endear or annoy in equal measure, but it’s hard to argue that there is a consistency or pure quality to see this album rank alongside its illustrious predecessor.

Hearing Jordan laying bare these experiences that sound more his own than ever over La Dispute’s most impacting collection of songs yet is something that will invigorate the die-hards once more and maybe (just maybe) finally impress the naysayers.

‘Asphalt Meadows’ may not be a lockdown record, but it’s one that finds its voice in emerging into musical freedoms found in separation.

A planned dalliance, Hot Thoughts reveals its irony: a well-thought rush of blood, a planned frisson. It’s a turn on with limits.

Soaring arrangements and long tracks create a journey, as engaging as it is dramatic.

It’s no easy feat for a band to push themselves to the absolute limit, and with every shimmering strum of a guitar and shattering bassline of Sea When Absent, it’s clear ASDIG are giving it their all.

The jaunty, energetic hints of Britpop cast aside, this is Gaz Coombes the adult man, writing adult songs, and they’re really rather great.

Even as Lucy deals with massive topics including death, hope, and major life transitions, she offers listeners entry points back into their own worlds, all while strengthening her already taut grip on rustling, soul-blemished rock.

What ‘Great Spans…’ may lack in coherence, it makes up for with occasional moments of sheer beauty.

The glue between ten ambitious tracks, she holds her own and sounds more relevant than ever.

Though often an album of departures, ‘Try Harder’ works to find new ground to walk upon.

With ‘Fear Fear’, WMC already have a signature viewpoint all of their own - the fun is in seeing how they continue to play with it.

There is something strangely satisfying about its consistency and confidence. Have no doubts, ‘Being Funny…’ is most certainly still The 1975; they’ve just refined their pop nous that little bit more this time around.

While The Dream Is Over doesn’t quite match the ebullient nature of last year’s ‘Too’ or ‘V’, there’s still much to fall for.

This record could well have been made 20 years ago, such is its timeless quality.

If Wolf Parade have spent six years wondering how they can sing about anything at all, it seems as though they’re still wondering. Just this time the quartet turned the mic on as they pondered.

A record that feels dynamic and vital - while still respecting the band’s legacy so far - ‘The Million Masks of God’ is astonishing.

Sundara Karma might have set their sights high by naming their record for a man whose ambition spread to creating a whole system of writing, but Ulfilas’ Alphabet matches every lofty idea the band set themselves and then some.

The beauty of The Raconteurs is in the timeless joy of hearing two world-class songwriters, cut from two very different sides of a similar cloth, come together to make something if not greater, then at least as good as the sum of their considerable parts. And in that sense, Help Us Stranger succeeds, and then some.

Striking a perfect balance between familiarity and unpredictability, immediate choruses coexisting with a relaxed, breezy sound, ‘IRL’ is a delight.

Her signature sound is still there, yet on her latest offering, we can witness a more matured snapshot of an artist that is already wise beyond her years.

Regardless of tone or subject, she fills every lyric with a divine authenticity and matter-of-factness. Her vocals are delicate but always immediate, sitting somewhere between Angel Olsen’s dulcet croon and the twinkle of Sufjan Stevens. In short, Stella Donnelly has got the world in her palm, and the brain to do exactly what she wants with it.

Fading Frontier draws a new line in the sand, and it could be the beginning of a more direct and big-thinking Deerhunter.

Despite its curiously downbeat nature, it’s thoughtful and packed with intricacies waiting to be revealed. You’ll never want to leave once it sucks you into its gravitational orbit.

Each song feels like a separate vignette, but putting your finger on the exact theme isn't easy; more often it's left entirely to the interpretation of the listener.

Throughout, they still manage to delve into the perfectly-formed vignettes and clear-cut imagery that litter their early efforts, but the striking instrumentation allows their lyrics--and more importantly, their stories--to hit that much harder, making Holy Ghost a truly brilliant full-length.

A near-perfect album if there ever was one.