The leap has definitely paid off - her inimitable voice thrives in the woozy dancehall and afrobeat-inspired ‘First’ and the big pop confidence of ‘Womxn’, but also knows when to take a step back, peppering the record with spoken word segments and heartfelt mantras that tie the whole thing together.

As twelve equally matched moments of varied tone but consistent brilliance, it's nothing short of exactly what was expected--the start of something even bigger.

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.

The real masterstroke of ‘30’, however, comes with how these lyrics - the pain, the self-flagellation (sometimes cruel, often mocking), the hope, the acceptance - are expertly matched musically.

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.

While the off-kilter rhythms and cowbells of ‘This Love’ give way to a central chorus line that’s almost Bowie-esque. They’re big reference points but ‘Turn The Car Around’ uses them masterfully to drive down its own sonic motorway.

‘Tough Baby’ gives us a distinctly moving experience of serious artistic intent. It’s like watching a wound open, flowers growing out of it.

Both what you’d want and expect from a Chemical Brothers album, as well as a whole lot more on top, it pushes the duo firmly back to relevance.

A modern-folk masterpiece which finds her moving from her previous pop bangers into stunningly simple yet sharp melodies, ‘folklore’ will be going down in Swiftie history as one of her most unexpected, and undoubtedly one of her best.

Squid always seemed destined to have an epic album in them, and they’ve delivered just that.

Broadening the creative scope, Half Waif is given the space to breathe both lyrically and musically. ‘Mythopoetics’ glides from the stripped back piano and layered vocals of opener ‘Fabric’ and the intimate closer ‘Powder’ to the electronic flourishes that have elevated Nandi’s sound across four prior records.

This record is a playful, daring and capricious listen, and one of the first truly remarkable records of 2012.

Often Gorillaz records fall victim to feeling a little disjointed but with many moods and gargantuan guests here, Damon somehow manages to make ‘Strange Timez’ feel like a cohesive whole. Gorillaz can often be a hard band to define, and their records haven’t always fared well in the context they’re released in - in 2020 though, it all makes perfect sense.

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.

Few albums carry the raw emotion of ‘Every Bad’, and carry it with such musical confidence.

It's entirely possible that by proving they can make anything their own, they've become one of Britain's best bands.

An album that exudes charm and euphoria, while still very much being Fall Out Boy’s DNA, ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ is a real joy.

‘10,000 gecs’ is a thrilling ride from start to finish, catapulting through genres across 10 unrelenting and imaginative bangers.

It sounds fantastic throughout; there's just the right mix of intense dance floor dynamics and reverential sounds.

‘songs’ feels like unearthing an old puzzle a piece at a time. ‘instrumentals’, while texturally the same, focuses on pure ambience – the unspecific title is far more deserving. If anything, this feels more like a companion piece, a window into that cabin rather than its own separate record. If you wish you had been there, this is the best way to feel like you were.

Perhaps a less confident artist would be tempted to finish on a grand crescendo, but Angel Olsen has made a masterful record that both requires and earns a little patience.

That ‘Laurel Hell’ exists only because it almost didn’t gives it its power. It provides the space for her mastery of songwriting, and Patrick Hyland’s understated yet orchestral production places Mitski in a realm all her own.

As the record builds to a final cathartic hushed scream, ‘Punisher’ marks a clear step forward, but one that remains as fundamentally graceful as all that has come before.

Whether it’s a modern California of wildfires and livestreams, or a nostalgic glance at a James Dean, Marilyn Monroe make-believe - it’s Lana Del Rey’s world, we’re just living it.

Yves has carved out their own, trailblazing sound amid the racket of modernity and it truly feels like an awakening. Trapped somewhere between visceral punk, Oneohtrix Point Never and Dean Blunt, ‘Praise A Lord…’ is in fact like no other.

‘if i could make it go quiet’ has all the qualities of a blockbuster pop record - incessant hooks, A-list producer credits - but hone in on each track and you’ll find intimate vignettes that are fully-formed in themselves.

The 19-track remix record has elements of bubblegum-pop, screamo, rock, pop, hip hop and pretty much every genre you can think of, creating an album that is a masterpiece in its madness.

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