An intriguing side project that adds to the pair’s already storied careers.

There’s a fine line between using a formula and sticking to it, and it’s the smart way in which Sheer Mag do the former that makes ‘Playing Favorites’ so enthralling.

While it does see Faye and her band at their most musically warm and open - nearly every track is a devastating beauty - lyrically she feels more closed off than ever before.

‘Half Divorced’ is a bolshy barrage played out over the course of 12 short, sharp tracks.

The band’s most concise sound yet whilst never taking itself too seriously, as Mannequin Pussy continue to dominate a world of their own creation.

An album that continues the quartet’s knack for pairing potent socio-political commentary with delicious pop nous.

‘Where’s My Utopia?’ is as much a joy intellectually as it is musically, a leap in the right direction from one of our most promising groups of the day.

Ghetts secured his place in the conversation around the greatest UK rappers years ago; ‘On Purpose, With Purpose’ sets the bar higher once again.

‘Club Shy’ is staple Shygirl, re-packaged, pre-remixed, pre-prepared for the club: a dose of thumping post-midnight trance, a playful extension of self with all the irreverence, at her creative high.

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.

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.

Throughout, Andrew’s eccentric lyricism leans away from the paranoia of ‘MGMT’ and ‘Little Dark Age’ and towards a search for love in the midst of darkness; quietly, he and Ben continue to plough their strange pop furrow with aplomb.

Being aware of the context, it’s not the easiest listen, but it’s extremely rewarding.

This is a sonically rich, musically accomplished record - and it truly is - it’s Holly’s enviably dextrous voice that can’t help but take centre stage. They can belt with the best of them.

It is a dynamic and sensual album, rich with imagery, peppered with romance, and imbued with joy.

There’s something inherently welcoming in the short, sharp, and lyrically open songs, as Laura looks both inwards and outwards at her identity, her chosen music, and her vices. Each track unfolds with an ease only reserved for somebody with so much skin in the game.

Lime Garden offer a reassuring hand to warm shoulders and a candied melody or ten to sweeten ears. Not only this, but as an album indebted as much to Charli XCX or Bon Iver as it is to The Strokes, as equally comfortable with cello-bowing ballads or auto-tuned pop anthemia as it is with the guitar-chugging banger, it confirms Lime Garden as a band with potential to achieve even higher artistic greatness.

By the closing moments of the eery ‘Monolith’, it all becomes clear: this is love, but through the unmistakable eyes of IDLES.

Driven by Zara’s unwavering vocals and energetic delivery, ‘Venus’ is icy, crystallised and super fun - “fit for a goddess,” she says - and, aside from being a slight hodgepodge of genres, it’s a lush flex of skill.

‘Weird Faith’ sees Diaz defiant, ready to let her guard down again, with the title essentially referring to her faith in love; her work here evokes the gut-wrenching melodies and storytelling prowess of American supergroup boygenius.

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

Sonically sprawling (‘80s guitar sounds are referenced on the title track; a glitchy beat flickers through ‘Another Day’; ‘Power To Undo’ brims with pop-funk chaos) yet also unafraid to find joy in simple pleasures (the most immediate moment comes courtesy of ‘Prove It To You’, a club-ready stomp), ‘WHAT NOW’ is a gem.

‘The Pilgrim, Their God and the King of My Decrepit Mountain’ is an escapist dream, and immersive story.

An album that dreams not just big but huge. It begins with a literal orchestral overture - 96 seconds of world-building that removes you from boring old reality and plants you into their version of Fantasia. Then, 11 tracks of similarly sky-high, grandiose ambition, that tie together lofty literary sentiment, cinematic sweeping theatricality and killer melodic indie hooks with an equal affinity for each.

‘Dark Rainbow’ sounds like many of the best bits of each of their previous records. From rousing opener ‘Honey’ to the soft ballad closer of ‘A Dark Rainbow’, there’s a familiarity without ever feeling rehashed; that is to say existing fans will be pleased, while any new ears this falls on should want to hear more.

While there may be signs of holding back, ‘People Who Aren’t There Anymore’ still carries more than its fair share of upbeat anthems. This album isn’t much different, but why the band would ever change is a question that doesn’t need asking.

‘Friend of a Friend’ is an oasis of normality on this album, providing a piano ballad that could easily be a Neil Young deep cut, but for the most part this album is exactly what a side project should be – all the ideas too weird to fit anywhere else.

Not just a return to form from a group whose recent catalogue has been somewhat patchy, but a true classic, ‘Saviors’ is Green Day at their musical and thematic best.