Sampha’s voice might be the most instantly recognizable piece of magic in his arsenal, but it’s his patience and craft that makes ‘LAHAI’ such a stunning experience.

More so than some of his other recent material, the record has a sense of drama and occasion to it, as well as being the most musically seamless album he’s made in nearly twenty years, since 2004’s ‘A Grand Don’t Come for Free’.

These bold theatrics more than work, and maybe more so than ever, they present Creeper with a clear track to bringing camp, dramatic rock back to the very top of the pile.

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

At once escapist and heavily personal, it’s a dark, pop-perfect, melancholic fantasy.

‘CrazyMad, For Me’ is a triumphant whirlwind of pain and self-preservation, which reveals more of itself with every listen.

‘Perfect Picture’ is the pinnacle of today’s hyperpop yet steers away from its once abrasive nature towards a well-rounded, rebooted version: one where all that Hannah is and can be is indeed made picture perfect.

‘Defeat’ alone clocks up a gargantuan 22 minutes runtime. Similarly, ‘Magicians From Baltimore’ could have been a wonderfully tight piece but overstays its welcome at almost 10 minutes. Still, the blissed-out, spage age ‘Genie’s Open’ and the funky prog of ‘Gem & I’ provide at least a partial argument in favour.

If ‘Carrie & Lowell’ is set to remain as Sufjan Stevens’ best, ‘Javelin’ takes a confident stride back into personal territory and certainly gives 2015 a run for its money.

The most obvious uniting factor between this record and their previous ones, in fact, is their ability to write a whole host of bulletproof choruses, and it’s tricky to imagine coming unstuck from this album any time soon.

Capturing the highs and lows of womanhood via catchy pop, ‘Sorry I’m Late’ may have been a long time coming (see what she did there), but it’s worth the wait.

This is thoughtful, nuanced R&B that demonstrates Jorja’s kaleidoscopic feel for her genre, incorporating everything from neo-soul on the brooding title track, to flirting with dancehall on ‘Feelings’.

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.