His voice is stunning, a far-reaching, emotive vibrato evoking Roy Orbison that keeps the often surface-level nature of his lyrics from reaching full saccharine.

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

There’s enough originality pumped throughout each track that ‘Tension’ will undoubtedly stand as one of the most favoured contemporary Kylie eras. There’s no pretension to its greatness, just our Kylie, once again, humbly proving how easily she can forge gold and transform into pop culture phenomenon.

‘Sorry I Haven’t Called’ is yet another accomplished chapter.

Taken individually these songs are all gorgeous, but as a whole they create an effect of being hemmed in by absence, that inhospitable land overwhelming in its minimalism. No other record today sounds so beautiful and full while being quite so sparse.

Across the record, the winking lyrical smarts are in full flow.

The album could stand to bear more of the inventiveness that was so rife on her debut, but Laufey’s crystalline voice and effortless charisma make this album into a gorgeous display of a unique talent.

Despite – and seemingly deliberately - not carrying the widespread immediacy of more recent releases, it presents James as he currently stands; at once nostalgic and forward-thinking, and firmly back behind the decks.

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.

‘End of the Day’ feels like a long, slow goodbye to her old life; elegant and, given the context, elegaic.

Yes, ‘Club Romantech’ is fun, albeit superficially - supercharged by pulsating house that would perhaps be irresistible only under very specific, very inebriated conditions in 2012.

An album that works to intertwine large scale issues with some deeply personal admissions from frontwoman Sadie Dupuis - all via her intoxicating and bewildering brand of lyricism - the record, instead, grapples with the anger at its core and transforms. it into something more worthwhile.

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.

Punctuated by Simon’s misanthropic frustrations at a post-pandemic world, it’s a bold and brilliant but bileful record that may alienate even the most diehard of those ‘early-albums-are-the-best’ fans.

It may not be entirely reinventing the rock wheel, but it’s certainly a more successful attempt at broadening their horizons.

‘Bunny’, for the most part, justifies why Healey’s little black book is quite so heaving.

Undeniably ‘WEEDKILLER’ is a funneling of rage - a quest to rediscover autonomy and cement identity - but despite the darkness is ridiculously fun, too. It’s a triumphant debut - one that changes the game like a live wire in water.

Be Your Own Pet have retained the vitality of their youth while leaving behind the baggage.

This is a fully realised version of who and what they have always been.

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.

On the surface it may appear comparably safe in tone; a softer and arguably less frustrated sound runs throughout. Yet it never shies away from the unmistakable fact that Shamir has something to say, and that it’s always worth listening to.

Jungle’s latest is more breezy bops than all-out sum­mer smashes, but nev­er­the­less extremely rich and warm in sound.

‘The Death of Randy Fitz­sim­mons’ feels like a return to their roots; there’s a pleas­ing lack of pol­ish to the pro­duc­tion on what is a suc­ces­sion of punk rock blasts, from quick-fire bursts like ​‘Trap­door Solu­tion’ and closer ​‘Step Out of the Way’ to sus­tained sal­vos, with the bass-driv­en ​‘Count­down To Shut­down’ a case in point. There’s play­ful evid­ence of new ideas being worked in, too.

Although the British summer is a mixed bag of rain and more rain, ‘Alchemy’ could convince anyone there’s sun outside.

The only dud is GAYLE’s ‘butterflies’, which does nothing more than showcase the record’s corporate origins. Sampling a Y2K hit would have surely looked good on paper at some point; in reality it’s a confused mish-mash of sounds, the sample appearing as an add-on, the newcomer without the star power of her peers here to hint lyrically at anything of note. That aside, life in plastic does indeed sound fantastic.

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

This isn’t necessarily an album that contains multitudes, but therein lies its pure escapist charm.

There’s a solid background of obviously skilled musicianship on fifth LP ‘One Man Band’, but even on the snarl of ‘Never Taking Me Alive’, it all feels very safe.