Welcome back, folks. It’s been another whirlwind year of tunes, tunes and more tunes, with the return to shows also looming large in our minds. Here you’ll find our favourite albums of the past 12 months, arranged in no particular order because ranking art is pointless and self-defeating. We hope you’ll find something new to love here, and we'll see you at the front soon.
Björk // Fossora
Björk’s 10th studio album is her most arresting and relatable in years, and deploys 13 tracks of avant-garde music based around key themes of familial loss, emotional complexity and fungi. It finds the Icelandic singer in extremely confident and innovative form, dodging obvious genres or even song structures. Whatever this music is, it feels a long way from pop. At this point in her career, Björk is a world-renowned musical auteur with a body of work and influence that goes beyond actual fandom. Each album, and this is a trend throughout her catalogue, is conceived as a direct digression from (or response to) the previous one. It keeps her music fresh and her artistic integrity intact. ‘Fossora’ is full of inquisitive explorations and artistic bravery. She is one of Europe’s greatest living musicians. // Jacob Brookman
Whereas her previous solo full-length ‘Lemonade’ was seen as her complex magnum opus, Beyoncé’s 2022 return is an effervescent, celebratory delight. Taking its aesthetic cues from the whole history of Black dance music, from house and disco to dancehall and gospel, the more one absorbs the sixteen tracks of ‘Renaissance’, the more sophisticated its fusion of sounds becomes. Encapsulated by the brilliant six-minute centrepiece Virgo’s Groove, what’s perhaps most admirable about ‘Renaissance’ is that it never feels retro or stuck in the past, just explosively vibrant in its embrace of all that pop music has been and can be. // Tom Morgan
The rapid ascent of these Irish post-punk champions reached an impressive zenith on their intrepid third album. Brooding through notions of heritage and lineage, while dissecting how vicious inner devils often undermine heroic intent, ‘Skinty Fia’ is a sonically expansive rush of bleak claustrophobic rock soundscapes, haunted vocals and distressed melodic poetry. Reflecting how the band’s world view and cultural understanding broadened and evolved after relocating to London, their attack became more dynamic, edgy, dislocated, hardened and frangible as they fought to reconcile pre-existing beliefs about identity in the face of that multicultural hurricane. // Simon Ramsay
There’s something about Show Me The Body’s third album that makes it feel grimy. It’s an achievement in itself to make music that can be described in this way, but ‘Trouble The Water’ has no shortage of tricks up its grubby sleeves. The New York hardcore band throw themselves headfirst into making music that sounds like chaos personified, gleefully splicing genres in their wake and happily tossing the musical rulebook onto the fire, with a plethora of moments throughout the record that dispense with melody and embrace noise. It’s a deeply intriguing release and a profoundly formidable one too. // Emma Wilkes
In following up a brace of pandemic records that transposed Taylor Swift’s songwriting smarts to a folky hang with Bon Iver and members of the National, the arrival of ‘Midnights’ presented a number of possibilities. The most obvious, and sensible, move was a return to her chart-conquering synth-pop mode, which is almost but not quite what happened. This is not a particularly brash or flashy record—some of the low-key, measured hooks of ‘Folklore’ and ‘Evermore’ remain, and Swift toys with atmosphere more readily than she did on ‘Lover’, her last obviously ‘pop’ work. That sets up exceptional moments such as Maroon, a melodic marvel that has the guts to wait before delivering its huge payoff of a chorus. At this point, every move Swift makes is interesting. // Huw Baines
Sharon Van Etten // We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong
Hauntingly beautiful and laced with character, Sharon Van Etten’s sixth studio album was written during the pandemic and sought inspiration from immediate family surroundings. Although far from being a comforting release, the tracks simmer over Van Etten’s experience of ravaging fires nearly engulfing her home. Drawing on recent and past memories, ‘We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong’ quickly becomes captivating. Van Etten’s indie-folk vocals hum along, swiftly softening the album’s lyrical impact, yet this cool juxtaposition sets the songs apart. Van Etten makes the stinging salt of crushing words somehow taste like sugar. // Rebecca Llewellyn
Once again, Tobias Forge and his band of Nameless Ghouls have come through with an unabashed and immersive collection of pop and rock songs that are certain to please the majority of Ghost's growing Clergy. As with many of the Swedish occultists’ records, opinions will differ over the latest iteration of their sound, and for some it may be bittersweet to see the overtly satanic days have passed by, though others will see the departure as an evolution. Either way, it’s still full of massive, catchy guitar hooks, exuberant choruses, impressive instrumental and vocal performances, and wickedly dark messages. Musically, this is Ghost on the next level of global rock domination. // Jon Stickler
‘Time Will Die and Love Will Bury It’ was fucking rad. Rolo Tomassi’s 2018 magnum opus expanded their luminescent mixture of shoegaze and post-hardcore into an hour-long odyssey where every song sweetly segued into the next. ‘Where Myth Becomes Memory’ rebelled against the dreamlike flow of its predecessor by growing fiercer and more episodic. Its drops between fluff and fury were starker, as demonstrated by groove-metal wallopers Cloaked and Drip. Almost Always and Closer—both defined by their shimmering guitars and Eva Korman’s angelic croon—still got to explore Rolo’s softer side more completely, though. // Matt Mills
Charli XCX spent a decade at the bleeding edge of pop, never truly breaking through, usually by virtue of being so far ahead of the curve. ‘Crash’ dials back on the hyper-pop, and ups on the 80s floorfillers in a visionary reimagining not just of herself but the modern pop landscape. She also showed she’s unafraid to work with other innovators in the space, from Caroline Polachek on the big beat swagger of New Shapes to the new club staple Beg For You with the ascendant Rina Sawayama. It’s the future, but most of all, it’s Charli, baby. // Will Marshall
Distillation was the name of the game on The 1975’s latest offering. Anyone who adores Chocolate, The City and I’m In Love With You, but has less passion for the pop-rockers’ overly-indulgent experimental wanderings, will absolutely love this record’s punchy, no-nonsense aesthetic. Given sonic luminescence by producer Jack Antonoff, its straight-for-the-jugular songs maximise the band’s strongest musical attributes as Matty Healey’s antithetical lyrical pistol takes aim. Unleashing a humid whirlpool of 80s candy-coated hooks, slinky guitars, cheesy synths and searing sax breaks, it’s the all killer, no filler album The 1975 have always had within them. // Simon Ramsay
The Odd Future alum got 2022 underway with one of the year’s brightest hip hop entries. Earl's trademark slow flow and wordplay was perfectly complemented by features from Armand Hammer and Zelooperz, and the whole product bridged the gap between bristling with energy and feeling supremely laid back. To decorate the album with voice samples added a fantastical quality to proceedings and the top-tier beats made it impossible to not bop your head to this one. Earl has repeatedly proven his talent and stands out now as one of the genre's most underrated talents. // Jack Terry
At this stage, we shouldn’t be surprised by anything that Death Cab For Cutie serve up—25 years into their career, they are played out and washed up. Only, what if that wasn’t true at all? I Don’t Know How I Survive, the opening song on ‘Asphalt Meadows’, cracks open with a truly out there blast of noise, and Ben Gibbard and friends keep that sense of unpredictability rolling. In tandem with producer John Congleton, they emphasise weird edges and odd textures alongside the reliability of Gibbard’s compositions, making this a record by musicians who refuse to go gently into the heritage band night. // Huw Baines
One of the best songs from Dry Cleaning’s second album is Gary Ashby, where we follow the tale of a lost tortoise that singer Florence Shaw can’t get hold of. It’s fair to say that the band's unorthodox sense of storytelling is as effective as ever here. What we get isn’t a band breaking new ground but improving upon an already effective mixture of scrapbook lyricism and interlocking guitar riffs that any band would be proud of. There’s an endlessly quotable core here and ‘Stumpwork’ is the product of a band who have a truly unique personality. // Matty Pywell
When Venom Prison debuted in 2016, they were a vicious grindcore band seething over injustice and rape culture. On ‘Erebos’, they became a melodic death metal band seething over injustice and rape culture. This time they targeted the failings of the criminal justice system on ragers such as Judges of the Underworld, which now balance singer Larissa Stupar’s screams with clean vocals and Bill Steer-style guitar hooks. By the time the album gets to Castigated in Steel and Concrete and Technologies of Death, it’s positioned Venom Prison as the catchiest UK death metal band since Carcass. // Matt Mills
LA indie group Warpaint took six years to record their fourth studio album, moulding and crafting an artwork that develops their 2010s art-indie sound into something that feels fresh and contemporary. The low slung vocals of lead singer Emily Kokal remain elegant and elusive, emerging from a warm mix of shuffly rhythms and reverby guitars. There is occasionally a mystical quality to Warpaint’s sound; mixed up with blended vocals, distant synths and lyrics that appear to have no words. ‘Radiate Like This’ sounds like it was made by people in excellent creative harmony, with security, calmness and love and respect between the lines. These qualities are often under-appreciated in musical groups. // Jacob Brookman
The Weeknd followed up 2020’s ‘After Hours’ in some style with ‘Dawn FM’. With a guest appearance coming from Jim Carrey, who plays the role of narrator, this is Abel Tesfaye dragging us into a nocturnal abyss of purgatory. In this space he reflects on past mistakes when confronted with an uncertain future—the stakes always feel high and there’s underlying tension throughout. The dark R&B aesthetic constantly shimmers with synths and the top-tier production from Max Martin and Oneohtrix Point Never makes for an enriching listening experience. // Matty Pywell
Rebounding from a potentially life changing operation with his best album in 30 years, Sir Ozzy of Osbourne—aided by wunderkind producer Andrew Watt—was clearly flying high again on this thrilling sinusoidal ride of melodic-metal anthems, doom-drenched epics and John Lennon-worshipping ballads. Gleefully referencing the singer’s solo years and genre-founding Black Sabbath days, while adding pin-sharp contemporary production twists galore, a revolving cast of superstar guests, including Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, the late Taylor Hawkins and Zakk Wylde, helped ignite a late stage classic. // Simon Ramsay
“Blacker than the leather that's holding our boots together. If you rock a different shade, we come under the same umbrella,” sings guitarist-vocalist Amy Love on Cleopatra. It’s one of 11 tracks on the sophomore LP from the genre-smashing duo—completed by bassist-vocalist Georgia South—that smacks of meticulous intent. Punk, metal, industrial, EDM and hip hop influences are expertly manipulated through the Nova Twins filter, creating a mammoth, Frankenstein sound that’s as original as they are bold. With ‘’Supernova’, Love and South have also managed to capture lightning in a bottle by allowing the pacing to reflect the band’s live energy. // Laura Johnson
It’s difficult to sum up the sweeping scope and raw emotions of ‘Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers’. Kendrick Lamar’s most grand and ambitious work to date (which itself is saying something) it is a sprawling, complex record that was deemed a masterpiece pretty-much immediately upon release. It’s hard to argue with this assertion. From the formal audacity of cuts like We Cry Together and Worldwide Steppers to the devastatingly honest emotions of Father Time and Auntie Diaries, the Compton virtuoso’s latest is a work of gigantic musical and thematic scope that will be discussed for a long, long time. // Tom Morgan
One of the beauties of youth is not caring what older generations think. And for Chicago three piece Horsegirl, all barely out of high school, you get the feeling they have little regard for what anyone other than their peers think of them. Heavily embedded in the culturally vital Chicago DIY scene, their lack of regard for perceptions has served them well. It has allowed them to borrow heavily from the past (The Breeders, Pixies, Interpol all leave a mark), yet still manage to twist their songs into entrancing moments of escapism. A strong contender for the year's best debut. // Craig Howieson
With every massive global event comes a flurry of clickbait articles, armchair experts and instantly-muted Twitter accounts, all digging up a prediction from the past that has come true, and the pandemic of 2020 was no different. Though Natalie Mering has never claimed to be a part-time psychic, it’s interesting timing that 2019’s ‘Titanic Rising’—the first in a trilogy—predicted an imminent catastrophe, with 2022’s ‘And In The Darkness, Hearts Aglow’ examining its aftermath. Her lyricism, intertwined with her signature shimmering vibrato and elegant, orchestral strings, addresses a broad spectrum of social issues, from climate change and capitalism, to navigating love as a modern day woman. While it can be uncomfortable at times to look these topics straight in the eye, the record’s underlying sense of quiet optimism prevents it from becoming preachy. // Sophie Pengelly
Power-pop is having something of a moment right now, and there are few bands doing it better than Philadelphia’s 2nd Grade. Led by songwriter Peter Gill, they find a middle ground between the studied melodies of ‘#1 Record’-era Big Star and the sort of transportive jangle-pop that kept the genre alive in the mid-1990s. The melodies here are truly first rate and Gill’s band—Catherine Dwyer, Jon Samuels, David Settle, and Fran Lyons—bubble over with personality and wonky chops. // Huw Baines
This year saw Billy Woods release not one but two masterful albums. Following May’s claustrophobic and oblique ‘Aethiopes’, October saw the release of ‘Church’, a more well-rounded release that was nonetheless as challenging and bold as we’ve come to expect from a Woods project. The rapper’s layered rhymes combine with the abstract production to generate a uniquely emotive tone that’s sometimes missing from modern experimental rap. Pollo Rico, All Jokes Aside and Fuschia & Green are dreamlike and mysterious highlights, crafting a brand of hip-hop that requires reading as a melancholic, existential puzzle. // Tom Morgan
After they first excited the underground with their 2019 debut ‘The Language of Injury’, Ithaca returned in a bright explosion of orange and white for a masterful, multi-layered follow-up. Bristling with righteous anger yet with a hopeful heart beneath, this is the sound of the London quintet at their most powerful, particularly when it comes to frontwoman Djamila Boden Azzouz’s brilliantly cutting mosh calls. What truly sets it apart, however, is its eclecticism, with flashes of everything from pop-punk to new wave creeping into their sound and making it glow. They’re fast becoming one of the UK’s best homegrown talents. // Emma Wilkes
When Black Country, New Road violinist and vocalist Georgia Ellery teamed up with her Guildhall classmate Taylor Skye, the results were special. The alternative electro-pop duo deliver a dizzying mix of big, catchy singalongs with a unique and at times challenging flair. Brash electronica underpins Ellery's vocals and culminates in one of 2022's best surprise packages. Evoking everything from Björk to Blur and Donna Summer while singing about grief, love and everything in between, ‘I Love You Jennifer B’ twists and turns wildly, keeping you and your emotions on your toes. // Jack Terry
Described by its creator as the work of someone ‘irreversibly changed,’ Angel Olsen’s sixth record is a majestic rumination on life-changing emotional upheaval, eloquently framed by the transitory nature of existence. Recorded after coming out as queer, followed by the death of both parents, ‘Big Time’ is a crystalline alt-country treasure that, in spite of its mesmeric sadcore sheen, elegantly balances steeliness and sensitivity, grief and transcendence. Judicious in its restraint and devastating in its deployment, its beautifully empathetic arrangements, not to mention breathtaking harmonies, conjure a melancholic swirl of handsomely-textured songs that simmer with ambient hypnotic poise and boil with dramatic, visceral release. // Simon Ramsay
When Wet Leg songs play on the radio, you know it. They blend psych-rock, post-punk, and indie-rock with staccato, catch and release vocals that ricochet between bouncy and blasé with a tongue firmly in cheek. “I don't wanna follow you on the 'gram, I don't wanna listen to your band,” they sing on Angelica, and it’s one of many razor-witted lyrics throughout the record. Musically, Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers thoroughly explore all ideas, though always with restraint that keeps the pacing tight. They’re so resolute in their intentions that they’re able to comfortably manoeuvre through multi-faceted melodies with the determination of a band with nothing to lose. // Laura Johnson
Soul Glo delivered a shot in the arm to hardcore with the essential ‘Diaspora Problems’. As its name suggests, the band don’t hold back on airing grievances and pointing out hypocrisies or structural racism in the punk scene, American society and its grim healthcare system. All the while it’s delivered through music that owes as much to hip-hop as it does to hardcore, like on album opener Gold Chain Punk (whogonbeatmyass?). It’s the sound of a band that no longer wants to wait for solutions or for people to take notice, but is unafraid to take matters into their own hands. // Will Marshall
While Radiohead have seemingly been put on pause, the highest profile side-project to feature the band’s members thus far has come in the form of The Smilet—the experimental rock act headed by Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood. Rounded out by drummer Tom Skinner (Sons Of Kemet), the band’s debut ‘A Light For Attracting Attention’ is a rhythm-centric work, all spindly drums and jittery guitar lines that are as claustrophobic as they are danceable. A few trademark Yorke-ian ballads break up the fidgetiness, which makes ‘A Light For Attracting Attention’ a varied, commanding album driven by unique energy. // Tom Morgan
When she wasn't teaching She-Hulk how to twerk, Megan Thee Stallion was ushering in another hot girl summer with the release of her sophomore record. But after establishing herself as the new queen of hip hop with her optimistic 2020 debut ‘Good News’, here she tightened her grip on the crown with a record that is seriously pissed off, whether it’s at her legal battles against her label, against the wider context of being a Black woman in America, and against the people still doubting her. ‘Traumazine’ is restless, seductive and heaped with attitude, and none of it is misplaced. // Jack Terry
Jamie Treays always seems to arrive back on the scene among a heady amount of bluster. Banging out new single The Old Style Raiders to a euphoric crowd as part of a chaotic Glastonbury show cemented his return in 2022, and the record that followed once again found the Wimbledon wordsmith in scathing, rapturous form. Older, somewhat wiser, but without a hint of compromise, Treays’ most recent outing veers from the juggernaut A Million & One Ways to Die to the heart-collapsing 50,000 Unmarked Bullets. // Craig Howieson
“I'm not the girl I was or used to be. Bitch, I might be better,” declares Lizzo on the lead single from ‘Special’, About Damn Time. She’s been constantly evolving since her 2013 debut ‘Lizzobangers’, breaking out of the alternative hip hop scene and into the mainstream with pop sensibilities that also embrace funk, neo-soul, disco and more from decades past to create considered floor fillers. Whether she’s delving into insecurities about a relationship, LGBTQIA+ comradery, waxing lyrical about her friends, or feeling seductive, the singer and songwriter is confident presenting her point of view through the Lizzo lens, with her trademark wit an added bonus. // Laura Johnson
Bartees Strange’s music is an exciting mixture of soul, R&B and indie-rock that means he’s carved out his own space among other contemporary artists within North American rock music. His songs can go from gentle, soothing melodies to blasts of intensity at a moment’s notice and you feel that exciting tonal whiplash throughout ‘Farm To Table’. The album serves as a reminder of how far he has come and he quite rightly shows it off on Cosigns, a delightfully boastful listen. // Matty Pywell
For 2018’s ‘Catharsis’, Machine Head main man Robb Flynn stripped back the progressive songs and harmonic solos of his band’s last three masterpieces and returned to the derided nu-metal sound of their turn-of-the-millennium era. It went down horribly. So, after four years of warring with social media trolls, Flynn retreated to fantasy land for a narrative concept album, while the music returned to the savagery that made Machine Head groove-metal pioneers. Slaughter the Martyr rediscovered the scope of The Blackening, Become the Firestorm thrashed like hell and No Gods No Masters proved an arena-ready anthem. Consider every box ticked. // Matt Mills
Elizabeth Stokes’ songs have always had a wistfulness about them that appeared tailor-made for a breakup record. On ‘Expert in a Dying Field’ that suspicion was confirmed. Here, the Auckland band add spiky, halting sonics to melodies that, much like those on their first two records, are beyond the fingertips of most songwriters. The performances—from a now settled line-up of Stokes, guitarist Jonathan Pearce, bassist Benjamin Sinclair and drummer Tristan Deck—are uniformly excellent, delivering fizzing momentum to sentiments that stick around once the buzz fades. // Huw Baines
‘Motomami’ is a spectacular 16-track explosion of wit, innovation and rugged beauty that uses collaborations from music biz grandees sparingly and wisely. The sound is awesome and diverse, landing halfway between the bleeding edge pop of Billie Eilish, sassy art-electro of Arca and traditional Latin tropes. Rosalía is a conservatory-trained artiste who is excelling in the often superficial world of the music industry. It’s hard to understate how much this comes through in the music - there is a formalised expertise here despite all the hypermodern pop tropes, and it puts the principle artwork head and shoulders above many contemporaries’ offerings. This is a fantastic, possibly game-changing work for Rosalía: a splurging musical bomb full of energy, sass, and variety. // Jacob Brookman
Mitski made a triumphant return on ‘Laurel Hell’, an album fuelled by an emotional charge and its pulsing electronic sound. Steeped in softened melancholy yet soured by its underlying bite, Mitksi’s vocals are amplified by her weighted lyrics and the album's endearing personal undertone. As Mitski expands her repertoire even further, ‘Laurel Hell’ is her most pop-infused release to date. It is no wonder, having almost quit music entirely, that the album is so spellbinding, as Mitski has poured heart, raw emotion and an unbridled passion, to deliver ‘Laurel Hell’ to the world. // Rebecca Llewellyn
After a protracted eight year hiatus in the non-musical wilderness, Paolo Nutini’s rollicking 16 song return proved quality and quantity could co-exist in perfect harmony. With his whiskey-drenched rasp as romantic, charming and soulful as ever, rootsy rock ‘n’ roll, dusky folk and impassioned balladry were confidently dispensed with trademark vulnerability and sparking melodious vigour as he whisked us through the highs and lows of a profound romantic entanglement. Any lingering sniffiness about Nutini’s authentic singer-songwriter credentials, based on his early pop star days, were surely laid to rest by this classy freewheeling treat. // Simon Ramsay
Since he first emerged as an artist to watch, Loyle Carner has been known for his deeply personal songs, but on ‘Hugo’ he is more open than ever before. The track Blood On My Nikes captures the moment Carner witnessed a murder at the young age of 16 and features downbeat horns that make it evocative and effective. Carner now has a much more dynamic range to his sound, branching out from his jazz roots while still retaining a sense of soul throughout. He has one of the most unique voices in UK rap and ‘Hugo’ is a continuation of what has become a fascinating career. // Matty Pywell
The term ‘supergroup’ is overused and sometimes so eyeroll-inducing that it leaves a sour taste before you’ve even taken a bite. There is, however, little other way of describing L.S. Dunes, which consists of Frank Iero (My Chemical Romance), Travis Stever (Coheed & Cambria), Anthony Green (Circa Survive), Tim Payne (Thursday) and Tucker Rule (Thursday/Yellowcard). All legends of their respective genres, the album encapsulates elements of each of their previous projects and wraps them up in a prog-laced post-hardcore blanket that prevents the sound from feeling outdated. Theatrical, confident and gritty, on ‘Past Lives’ L.S. Dunes not only laugh in the face of catastrophe, but they chew it up, spit it out and press it into a vinyl record of a future cult classic. // Sophie Pengelly
‘Otherness’ was a long time coming for The Only Band Ever, arriving seven years after the Canadian post-hardcore greats first came back together and almost 13 after their last album. And boy, was it worth the wait. Alexisonfire have never sounded quite so determined, storming through each and every one of these tracks sounding like the biggest and best version of themselves. There’s a real grace about some of these songs too, particularly in the gorgeous ode to the journey of self-love in Sans Soleil or the epic eight-minute odyssey of closer World Stops Turning. It’s nothing short of stunning. // Emma Wilkes
Big Thief // Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You
A music collective that somehow remains a mystery, even to their fans. The excitement around Big Thief is not only in their talent, but in their wayward eccentricity. Fifth studio album ‘Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You’ confirms that notion and with an impressive 1 hour and 20 minute wingspan, the album ricochets from delicate contemporary indie tracks to warbling country blues. It’s out there, boldly, yet its uniqueness is also what sets it apart. Despite being a little off kilter, the album possesses an enigmatic charm. // Rebecca Llewellyn
Boston Manor took their boldest step forward to date with a sub-25 minute concept album themed around the introspection and inner torment that comes out when the sky grows darker. ‘Datura’ builds enticingly upon the sound of Boston Manor albums past, blending snappy hooks with a gorgeously murky atmosphere in an offering that covers an impressive amount of ground within such a short space of time. Its length didn’t just make it streaming era-friendly–it left enough room to leave those who pressed play wanting more. The second part of this proposed duology can’t come soon enough. // Emma Wilkes
Five years in the making, Blue Rev heralds the arrival of a newly revitalised and defiantly sure-minded Alvvays. Things get sludgy and weird as the band double down on the shoegaze tendencies that previously gnawed at the edges of their sound, but their ear for an inescapable jangle-pop melody remains firmly intact. As Molly Rankin searches for hope in the ruinous rubble of the past years, her voice soars towards better times, and a future she and her band are seizing control of. // Craig Howieson
An album whose success feels written in the stars, the long-gestating team-up between prolific producer Danger Mouse and The Roots’ frontman Black Thought is an unqualified success. There’s an effortless quality to the 12 soulful tracks here that both belies its precise craftsmanship and speak volumes about the skills of its esteemed creators. Backing their exemplary work is a dream team of guest stars, including Run The Jewels on the electric Strangers, Raekwon on the resplendent The Darkest Part and an eerie posthumous cameo from MF Doom on the spectral Belize. Undoubtedly one of, if not the, best rap albums of 2022. // Tom Morgan
Drug Church’s ‘Cheer’ felt like a band consciously stepping up and owning the fact that they might have a future. It thrillingly melded muscular Quicksand-style riffage with surprising melodic feints and Patrick Kindlon’s sardonic words, leaving plenty for its successor to do to match it. On ‘Hygiene’ they didn’t double down on the formula as much as they refined it, adding more obvious hooks and expansive, shoegaze-leaning guitars to the mix. As a one-two punch, they’re pretty unbeatable. // Huw Baines
Porridge Radio // Waterslide, Diving Board, Ladder to the Sky
Rarely does a band step forward with as much spirit and gusto as Porridge Radio. Led by the thunderous vocals of Dana Margolin, their debut album ‘Every Bad’ proved to be a breakthrough hit, with their second album arriving to just as much acclaim. To pigeonhole Porridge Radio into a single genre alone would be an insult, as the band span effortlessly across multiple styles. From brooding indie-rock to poppy electronica, there is a wide spectrum to discover on ‘Waterslide, Diving Board, Ladder to the Sky’. As the music travels forward, so does Porridge Radio’s emotional capacity, as the band further expands on their heartfelt lyrics. // Rebecca Llewellyn
The Chilis’ 12th studio album reunites them with the dream team of guitarist John Frusciante and super-producer Rick Rubin behind the mixing desk. The result is a 17-track record of terrific poise, focus and musicality, and while it doesn't seem to break completely new ground for the band, it feels like their freshest and most confident work in years. In terms of pure quality, ‘Unlimited Love’ should probably make the top table of their albums, such is its innovation, creativity, humour and joy. If it doesn’t feel completely ground-breaking, this is probably because of the richness and versatility of the group’s catalogue to date. // Jacob Brookman
Father John Misty // Chloë and the Next 20th Century
Tripping the spotlight fantastic, via a dream-state sojourn through death, societal decay, faded glamour, self-destruction and doomed romance, Josh Tillman danced feet first into the world of Hollywood’s golden age on this luscious collection of swinging jazz, big band romps and melancholic, trad-pop vignettes. Irresistibly nostalgic, regally opulent and confidently poised, his broken-choir-boy croon is full of aching traction and cucumber cool gravitas. Nimbly pivoting between aspirational fantasy and grim reality, ebullient strings, swaggering brass, wistful woodwind and tickling harp underscore a supreme filmic swirl of shadowy poetic wit and deadpan wisdom. // Simon Ramsay
Vince Staples' love letter to the area that raised him turned more than a few heads. Gone is the braggadocious, aggressive delivery we've grown accustomed to from the Long Beach rapper, who has opted instead for a sorrowful lamentation of the life that made him. Steeped in anguish and heartache, and shaped by exasperation and despair for those now in his shoes, ‘Ramona Park Broke My Heart’ is pensive and piercing, thoughtful and mindless all at once, capturing the brutality of the streets in a deft, mature way. This is a spectacular evolution. // Jack Terry
Leeds-based breakouts Yard Act seemingly know no bounds in their uncharted rise up the music ranks. The post-punk new kids on the block have taken the scene by storm with their debut album ‘The Overload’. Having already amassed a cult-like following with quirky off-beat lyrics and football-chant-worthy choruses, the band paired good humour and a punchy sound, even landing an eyebrow-raising feature from Sir Elton John on a revamped version 100% Endurance. Yard Act’s reach is certainly expanding. // Rebecca Llewellyn
This year brought out a battle-scarred side to Rammstein, with many of the songs on their 10th opus heavy with a sense of world-weariness they haven’t exhibited before. These songs remain just as majestic as any Rammstein track, whether they’re drenched in melancholia or blazing with anger. ‘Zeit’ is by no means doom and gloom, however. Zick Zack offers a delightfully wry slice of fun with plenty of smirk-worthy lines (one translates to “Belly fat in the bio bin/The penis sees the sun again,”) while Dicke Titten and OK bring quintessentially Rammstein bawdiness to centre stage—who else bar Till Lindemann could sing a line like “Ohne kondom!” with such relish? // Emma Wilkes
‘Two Ribbons’ saw Rosa Walton and Jenny Hollingworth come together to write songs again. The pair had spent some much needed time away from Let’s Eat Grandma in order to grow as people and have life experiences. Returning meant there was more room for each of them to breathe in the creative process. Their bond is stronger than ever and it results in some vivid, euphoric moments such as Happy New Year, where you can almost hear the heat of the firework-like keys. They use synth-pop as a vessel for joy. // Matty Pywell
Having recruited Kanye West, Jay-Z, Pharrell Williams, Kid Cudi and Lil Uzi Vert, it would have been easy for Pusha T to take a back seat and fade into the furniture on his fourth solo album ‘It's Almost Dry’, relying on this all-star cast to bring the gravitas and cred. Instead, he doubles down on the unmistakable style that made his name with Clipse, and trims a lot of the fat that has been present throughout his solo career. What’s left is one of Pusha’s finest chapters to date, solo or otherwise. // Jack Terry
On ‘Warm Chris,’ Aldous Harding's songs flutter from branch to branch like birds on a frost-coated morning. Never staying still long enough to become rooted to the spot, each movement is filled with a beautiful sense of purpose. Harding has always embraced a certain level of eccentricity in her sound as jazz, indie-pop and wonky soul all bound around her captivating voice: ‘Warm Chris’ is no exception. On tracks such as Fever and Leathery Whip we are reminded of a unique genius in our midst. // Craig Howieson
Their 2018 debut album ‘Mire’ made Conjurer British metal’s biggest buzz band. Its corpus of stonking riffs and nasty-as-fuck breakdowns transcended subgenres and went straight for the jugular. So, for the highly anticipated follow-up, the Rugby rabble doubled down on their might. More riffs! More growls! But, also, more melodies. Those Years Condemned and It Dwells built ominous acoustic passages and then recreated them as blistering electric guitar licks. Meanwhile, Suffer Alone was the most no-nonsense Conjurer song to date, jamming a torrent of thrash metal beatdowns into two minutes. ‘Páthos’ was violent, yet just catchy enough to be memorable. // Matt Mills
Jessie Buckley & Bernard Butler // For All Our Days That Tear The Heart
Sounding like Laura Marling, were she the all-singing love child of Jeff Buckley and Joni Mitchell, Oscar nominated actress Jessie Buckley was clearly at the front of the queue when someone out there was dishing out talent. Ably abetted by the exquisite and instinctive compositional skills of former Suede guitarist Bernard Butler, the Chernobyl star’s magnetic delivery enraptures and beguiles throughout a series of quietly epic gems that explore the length and breadth of folk music in all its primitive, multi-faceted glory. Packed with engrossing storytelling, delectable twists, assured arrangements and magical chemistry, collaborations rarely arrive this fully formed. // Simon Ramsay
Camp Cope’s third LP finds them more at peace but still fiercely passionate and resolute in their views. This time round the Australian trio have finessed their intentionally lackadaisical indie-rock, harnessing the beauty found in the spaces left by notes unplayed. They avoid monotonous pitfalls with varied vocals that exercise greater restraint than on previous releases, and the record is the more dynamic for it. Guitarist-vocalist Georgia Maq has the pipes to match her moxie, but it’s refreshing to see her reading the room as expertly as the rhythm section of bassist Kelly Hellmrich and drummer Sarah “Thomo” Thompson, who expertly guide the record’s pace. // Laura Johnson
The party piece for Everything Everything’s sixth album was that it was written using AI. Singer Jonathan Higgs apparently put the LinkedIn T&Cs, Confucius quotes, Beowulf and 400,000 4chan comments into a machine, then used the resulting mess for some of his lyrics. As neat a story as that is, though, the true selling point of ‘Raw Data Feel’ was that it was a top-notch pop record. I Want a Love Like This was a bubblegum anthem well suited for the long, hot summer to come, while Shark Week indulged in electro-symphonic pomp and Pizza Boy could have soundtracked an Ibiza club. // Matt Mills
Pinkshift were quickly earmarked as a name with potential when debut single I’m Gonna Tell My Therapist on You went viral during the pandemic. Two years later, their debut album crashed into the scene and surpassed all expectations, bringing heaviness and lyrical bite that might not have been predicted from the fresh-faced college students they had once been. It’s the perfect soundtrack to the relentless frustration of life in your early-to-mid 20s—or for any time it feels like everything is falling apart. // Emma Wilkes
Since Spacemen 3 disbanded, Jason Pierce (J Spaceman) has churned out nine albums under the Spiritualized moniker, most to universal acclaim and wonder. A magical, ethereal sense of brass-tinged beauty adorns much of ‘Everything Was Beautiful’ but the multi-talented mastermind is far from limited to one formula, utilising 16 instruments himself and drawing on more than 30 contributors in his latest quest for sonic perfection. Even the packaging is magnificent, temptingly teasing the wonders that lie within. Occasionally overblown but always entertaining, ‘Everything Was Beautiful’ offers kaleidoscopic intrigue. // Graeme Marsh
As ever, Maryland’s finest have managed to remain consistent without ever feeling stagnant on their 13th studio album. ‘Sunrise On Slaughter Beach’ is unmistakably a Clutch record, though it is a shorter and more varied one than its 2018 predecessor 'Book Of Bad Decisions'. While there’s more diversity and occasional experimental nuances among its nine tracks, it’s still quick, tight, fizzes with fun and packs a hell of a wallop through its unpretentious, swaggering hard rock. Frontman Neil Fallon is on his usual weird and wild wordy form, telling lyrical stories with perpetual energy, and the never wavering Tim Sult, Dan Maines, and Jean-Paul Gaster keep the pummelling jams running in high gear. // Jon Stickler
With members scattered between Cologne and Paderborn in Germany and Toronto in Canada, Between Bodies play emotionally resonant indie-punk in the vein of the Menzingers or Spanish Love Songs. On ‘Electric Sleep’, though, they bust out of this lane by tightening up their melodies and infusing their songs with gauzy elements of post-punk, producing a truly thrilling mix. These songs won’t leave you. // Huw Baines
As confrontational as it is exhilarating, ‘Nothing to Declare’ skulks and stalks, prowling while it waits for its time to strike. A collaborative project by poet/rapper Moor Mother and producer DJ Haram, 700 Bliss pull out all the stops to thrill and intimidate on their debut full-length. The dark, dank, techno-infused production is jagged and angular, atop which Moor Mother’s similarly spiky free-form bars are expertly fused. Muscular highlights like Discipline and Bless Grips teem with charismatic menace and make for a captivatingly unnerving fusion of styles. // Tom Morgan
As the title would suggest, Alt-J really do seem to be living in the dream on their 2022 release. Their latest album has a renewed sense of self, with Alt-J leaning in more lyrically than ever before; the record really does capture the spirit of the alt-indie quartet rather well. Meandering away from the experimental concepts of prior releases, ‘The Dream’ instead marries together the two things that Alt-J arguably do best: a bluesy American sound and curiously prying lyrics. Despite the album's more focused view, it still manages to vary itself in parts, offering an immersive listening experience with quiet indie-folk fizzes and moments of joy in those acoustic wonders. // Rebecca Llewellyn
To listen to the first track on Sasami’s ‘Squeeze’ is like unwittingly walking into a haunted house. Except this is no carnival ride—you’re surrounded by flames blasting out everywhere, there’s blood on the walls and howling screams. Yes, Sasami has gone nu-metal, a far cry from her classical roots. A thrill-ride of an album throughout, this has all the riffs and guitar licks you could wish for. Paired with that is Sasami’s excellent lyrical detail as she celebrates the emotion of rage as something vital to the human experience. // Matty Pywell
A 21-song Trojan horse of an album. Jeff Tweedy smuggled his bristling meditation on fractious societal division and inescapable trauma into this inviting, cosy and deceptively laid-back depository of magnificently unhurried Americana. Rich with stellar songcraft that revealed depthless darkness beneath its seemingly perfect exterior, such simmering, yet sonically enterprising, acoustic-based juxtapositions certainly offered lots to digest. Yet, Wilco knew their fans would be astute and patient enough to wait for such seemingly winsome, thought provoking and bounteously layered contents to slowly converge and cast the intended spell. // Simon Ramsay
Spielbergs have always written songs of skyscraping proportions. Their debut was the story of a group living simply and dreaming big; accepting their day jobs but swinging for the bleachers nonetheless. After that record’s success and having opened themselves up to a wider audience, their follow up finds the Norwegian trio trying to make sense of the new shape their lives have been given; balancing how getting older, touring and maintaining home lives can all mesh together. But in typical fashion they do it against a backdrop of gigantic pop-punk and post-rock anthems with a healthy dose of shoegazing to boot, reaffirming they are one of the best at capturing the euphoric notion of existence. // Craig Howieson
Amanda Shires’ ‘Take It Like A Man’ is both a dazzling sonic reinvention and fearless artistic proclamation. Whether it’s gothic Americana, swinging soul, plaintive country or smoky jazz, the virtuoso fiddle player entwines an unvarnished account of her and husband Jason Isbell’s marital struggles alongside issues pertaining to the trials of modern womanhood and low self-worth. Masterfully produced by Lawrence Rothman, and featuring career best vocals from Shires, the results are so immersive, intimate and alluring it’s like we’re inside her head, seeing what she’s seeing, while feeling her deepest thoughts with the same gut-wrenching potency. // Simon Ramsay
Vein.fm’s brand of hardcore sounds like industrialised nihilism, especially on ‘This World is Going to Ruin You’. Where its predecessor ‘Errorzone’ was a glitchy, almost unrestrained blitz of electronics and hardcore, here they went for a far darker, nastier approach. With gore-soaked videos featuring decapitations by giant scissors (The Killing Womb) that echo the furious sentiment within, as well as left-field melodic turns such as Geoff Rickly’s soaring chorus during Fear In Non-Fiction, Vein.fm smashed every rule they could find all over again. It’s an exhilarating, deliriously heavy vision of hardcore in 2022. // Will Marshall
A serene sweetness is derived from the voice of Welsh-Australian singer-songwriter Stella Donnelly, but that’s not to say the singer’s words are without intent, as she delves unhindered into challenging topics through her music. As honeyed vocals dance around emotional pitfalls, Donnelly delivers cool, cathartic notions. Centred on a newfound adoration of nature and birdwatching, ‘Flood’ combines calm, whimsical indie-folk and churning lyrics that grapple with the very complicated reality of the last few years. As the singer has questioned her sound and sense of self, ‘Flood’ is a culmination of every aspect of her life. // Rebecca Llewellyn
Open Mike Eagle // Component System with the Auto Reverse
An accessible and immensely likeable collection of modern alternative hip-hop, ‘Component System with the Auto Reverse’ exudes charisma and charm from its versatile rapper/comedian creator. Possibly the best of Open Mike Eagle’s eight solo albums, tracks like For DOOM and Crenshaw and Homeland feature his free-association rhymes at their whimsical best, while guest spots from Aesop Rock, R.A.P. Ferriera and particularly Armand Hammer elevate ‘Component System with the Auto Reverse’ to the level of one of 2022’s best rap albums. // Tom Morgan
Katy J Pearson is a delight on ‘Sound of the Morning’. Boasting a more refined sound to 2020’s hearty debut ‘Return’, Pearson maintains her perspective on modern country music, but opts to replace plucky banjo strings with velvet chords on this latest release. The distinct shift in instruments blends well with the album’s wider lyrical messages, as Pearson’s eccentric vocals reverberate with a blue hue. ‘Sound of the Morning’ is awash with emotive moments and the subtle changes in tone reflect this—the album feels rounded and mature. The sense of Pearson having personified her music proves to be truly mesmerising. // Rebecca Llewellyn
Martha have been one of the best bands in the UK for a decade and change. At this stage, it feels like they can’t miss. ‘Please Don’t Take Me Back’ was at turns funny, sad, and euphoric in its cantering hooks, with the group’s four vocalists never more than a few feet from a superbly-executed multi-part harmony. There remains real power in facing down this festering sore of an island with pop songs that emphasise kindness and empathy. // Huw Baines
There was a time when the world had to wait five years for new Cult of Luna. Mercifully, though, that era’s in the rear-view mirror, as the Umeå juggernauts have bludgeoned metalheads with two albums and an EP since 2019. ‘The Long Road North’ demonstrated that this sect didn’t sacrifice quality for prolificacy: its 70 minutes summarised their strengths and also built upon them, mostly thanks to the ominous contributions of Hereditary composer Colin Stetson. An Offering to the Wild layered his dissonant sax playing beneath the band’s creeping arpeggios, before the song crescendoed with a nightmarishly polyrhythmic Sleep riff. // Matt Mills
While it'd be easy to tar Mavi with the Earl Sweatshirt brush, his sophomore studio album ‘Laughing so Hard, it Hurts’ does more than enough for the Carolina rapper to stake his own claim in the conscious-leaning hip hop category. What's most impressive though is how Mavi doesn't pigeonhole himself at any point and across these 16 tracks; he expertly dispenses different flows, rhythms and styles, from the touching tribute of My Good Ghosts to the mean mugging of The Last Laugh. While it could have resulted in a patchwork mess, the result here is a richly rewarding experience that reveals more of itself as time goes by. // Jack Terry
Heriot exploded into the heavy music scene’s consciousness with debut EP ‘Profound Morality’. Drawing from sludge, hardcore, noise and industrial, they formed an unholy concoction that hits harder than a sledgehammer. Eerie, uncomfortable samples and interludes like Abaddon and Mutagen break up the pummelling, while the frantic, squealing fretwork of guitar hero-in-waiting Debbie Gough adds an extra divebomb-filled dimension to the fury. An admission that morality is often much more of a grey area than people care to admit, ‘Profound Morality’ explores the divide between rich and poor, trust and classism in an utterly compelling, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it storm of brutality. // Will Marshall
Bill Callahan is a relic of a bygone era. His soulful baritone storytelling is at the forefront on a stripped back album that actually has a great many layers. Through the Bob Dylan-esque drawl and Nick Cave-like musings on love and life, the music carries stunning depth that reveals more to you on each listen. Deeply gratifying and emotionally rich, ‘YTILAER’ is a crowning glory from a man who has been around the block once or twice over the past 30 years. Experience wins out. // Jack Terry
Cave In nearly didn’t return after the untimely passing of bassist Caleb Schofield, but ‘Heavy Pendulum’, their first full studio recording in over a decade, is a towering return to form. Eschewing such concerns as genre, they cover sludge (New Reality), towering balladeering alt-rock (Blinded By A Blaze), progressive thrash (Wavering Angel) and everything in between, without ever losing steam or coherency. It’s also something of a memorial to Schofield, with Amaranthine being a song he started writing and finished by the band as they sought to rediscover what Cave In can sound like in 2022. // Will Marshall
Dialling up the production values from 2020s ‘Sundowner’, Kevin Morby fully embraces his status as one of new Americana’s most authentic voices on ‘This Is A Photograph.’ The soul-soaked singer retains the chops that will impress guitar slingers and casual listeners alike, but on tracks such as A Random Act Of Kindness, Bittersweet, TN and Stop Before I Cry he reaches a new plane of songwriting. The record as a whole is graced with global resonance and songs that feel like they have been plucked from the past to fight a fearful future. You can float away on the psychedelic trance of A Coat Of Butterflies, guaranteed a soft landing among his world-weary wisdom. // Craig Howieson
One listen to ‘Bronco’ and the reason for its title is clear. The record finds Orville Peck only just holding on emotionally as life bucks him at every turn. Where his 2019 debut ‘Pony’ found him tentative, the follow-up finds him forthright in detailing his trauma. Choosing prose over poetry, lyrically it hits harder. “Been finding it hard to be kind, since I've been lost out there, losing my mind,” he shares on the heartbreaking Let Me Drown. Toxic masculinity and tour life are touched upon elsewhere, alongside forlorn tales that he delivers with rich, baritone vocals and a melancholic wit that bolsters the solemn subject matter. // Laura Johnson
Punk rapper Rico Nasty displayed spectacular depth and complexity on this mixtape back in July. What starts as a raucous, rousing shot of adrenaline takes a turn into some of her most tender and vulnerable work to date. Final song Chicken Nugget is the kind of track to give you a lump in your throat, and the fact that it's so at odds with Vaderz and Black Punk just makes it that much more of an unexpected hidden gem. This whole release is a bustling and brilliant burst of energy and emotion that somehow takes in everything from hip hop and R&B, to hardcore and drum & bass and somehow keeps it all cohesive. // Jack Terry
Three decades since the duo’s heyday, and 18 years after their last album, Curt Smith and Roland Orzabal returned with a stunningly rendered sonic masterclass that sounded utterly classic while being firmly grounded in the here and now. Expelling melodious melancholic sentiments from their fractured and scarred, but unyielding, hearts, the sensitive twosome strode through a modern wasteland of grief, bafflement and despair to plant shimmering flags of optimism in a succession of texturally radiant prog-pop diamonds that, thanks to being so gorgeously painted, should probably be framed and hung in a fancy art gallery for posterity. // Simon Ramsay
Working Men’s Club’s self-titled debut was one that could have only been created underneath the grey skies of Yorkshire. It saw them ride out from listless surroundings into motorik beats and euphoric rock. The follow-up, ‘Fear Fear’ sees them further entering the void of electronic music, doubling down on grainy, industrial textures and utilising a wider range of tones than ever. These songs are deceptively melancholic but will set you on the path towards the dancefloor. It’s a chaotic listen that opens up intriguing new directions for the band. // Matty Pywell
While the name ‘Pompeii’ might conjure apocalyptic devastation, Cate Le Bon has opted instead to document the aftermath: desolate, isolated and left picking up the pieces. Her ethereal baroque-pop is layered with waif-like vocals and oozes indie-rock sensibilities to deliver an album that sounds utterly timeless. A swirling, moving mass of guitar, piano, saxophone and synths flits effortlessly from 1980s art pop to 2020s folk rock without breaking a sweat, and Le Bon’s mastery of tying emotion into so many forms makes ‘Pompeii’ an indelible mark on the psyche of 2022. // Jack Terry
The Big Moon’s third studio album, ‘Here Is Everything’ is their most expansive and emotive to date. Lead vocalist, guitarist and songwriter Juliette Jackson’s commanding alto vocals captivate as she navigates life before, during and after her first pregnancy, all while in the throes of a global pandemic. “How does my head not split, with what’s inside of it? The world it drew with two little lines upon a stick,” she sings on 2 Lines. Snapshotting moments like a journal, Jackson takes her time delivering poetic lines that deserve not to be rushed, as conscientiously composed melodies and hearty, occasionally folk-flecked, indie-rock instrumentation unfurls around her. // Laura Johnson
Spoon have produced consistent, non-headline grabbing albums for as long as we can remember. Their 10th studio LP ‘Lucifer on the Sofa’ adds a thicker layer of electric guitar than usual to impressive effect, adding to the trademark catchiness and subdued brilliance that’s always guaranteed. Surprisingly, a stunning interpretation of Held, a Bill Callahan song from his Smog days, takes them to even greater heights—they make it their own with some ease. Here their usual quirkiness is kept in check, but perhaps that’s the key on an album that might stay on the turntable indefinitely. // Graeme Marsh
In history’s most successful social media clapback, Zeal & Ardor have turned an online dare to mix black metal with “n— music” into an underground megaforce. Manuel Gagneux’s third album continued his trend of packing more than a dozen anthems into 45-minute snapshots. Götterdämmerung introduced an industrial edge to his canon, while Church Burns celebrated Satanic arson with vintage blues vocal melodies. There was also a newfound patience to such tracks as Emersion and Hold Your Head Low, which dabbled in post-rock and soul, respectively. Zeal & Ardor have been a hype band since day one and, five years since debuting, everyone’s still hooked. // Matt Mills
Oozing bittersweet sunset melancholy with effortless unhurried grace, Willie Nelson’s 72nd album is an achingly poignant, but ridiculously charismatic, release from someone who, at 89 years old, knows his final curtain call is nigh. Throughout lovingly reflective and nostalgic classic country tunes full of experiential wit, wisdom and plenty of Nelson’s fine guitar and harmonica work, the ‘red headed stranger’ and his songwriting collaborators suggest that if we follow our hearts, pursue our passions and honour our fellow man, all will be rosy come judgement day. Treasure legends while you can, folks. // Simon Ramsay
This quartet have developed a knack for delivering stellar records, with each passing release becoming a little more complex and progressive. On their seventh outing, we find Alter Bridge cherry-picking the best parts of past works, retaining the anthemic qualities of their earlier records, while pushing each members’ musical limits, and delivering some of their heaviest material yet. Though it might not break much new ground in a stylistic sense, it’s a complete representation of a near 20-year career from a band long past the point of having to prove themselves. // Jon Stickler
There seem to be very few topics that John Darnielle cannot mine for good songwriting fodder. ‘Bleed Out’, an ode to obscure 80s action movies, is a bloodthirsty drama of a record. Revelling in the sublime and ridiculous while sounding musically as strong as the band ever has, the choice of having Bully’s Alicia Bognanno as producer turns out to be inspired. With her hand guiding the ship there is grit and urgency embedded within the songs, which they both require and benefit from. Fast paced, all action, but with plenty to investigate in the rubble of the aftermath, ‘Bleed Out’ is another triumph from a band who seldom put a foot wrong. // Craig Howieson
In a genre still towered over by past glories, The Callous Daoboys managed to find a way to revitalise mathcore, paying homage to pioneers and previous genre leaders while still stamping their own wild, multigenre take on it. Beautiful Dude Missile fuses stabbing mathcore with an off-kilter, delirious melodic hook that’s still a total earworm, while Star Baby somehow melds mathy wigouts with a jazz-pop break seamlessly. Throw in some outlandish song titles and state of the nation lyrics and you've got the icing on top of a wonderfully chaotic cake. // Will Marshall
A heart warming unison between Katie Crutchfield of Waxahatchee and singer-songwriter Jess Williamson, ‘I Walked With You A Ways’ is a bewitching bijou that showcases their deep passion and natural empathy for folk and country-tinged Americana in its purest, most elemental form. Restrained but picturesque instrumentation ably supports intimate, enticing songcraft and timeless melodies, but it’s the pair's stunning harmonies that elevate every single cut. Shining like a thousand iridescent bulbs in the darkness, you could describe their spine-tingling vocal interplay with a thousand synonyms for the word sublime and it still wouldn’t come close to hyperbolic overkill. // Simon Ramsay
On paper, hardcore and Britpop might seem like an odd mix, but here High Vis pulled out the anthemic strains in each style to deliver one of the year’s most furiously enjoyable records. ‘Blending’ has a sharp social conscience and, in vocalist Graham Sayle, a performer who can deliver angry screeds with the confrontational charisma of Liam Gallagher. See them live. // Huw Baines
No one could accuse Meat Wave of having lost any of their edge on their fourth record ‘Malign Hex.’ True to their punk-rock roots that stretch back over a decade now, the trio can still assert a brutal assault on the senses. Complaint is a torrential downpour of guitar and thundering drums as Chris Sutter howls his discontent, while opener Disney builds from ominous sludge to rail at state of things. It is the record's variety, though, that marks it as one of the finest the band have put out to date. The singalong chorus of Honest Living is delivered at breakneck speed and the multiple acts of Jim’s Teeth unveil another layer to Meat Wave’s songwriting that, while never losing its bite, makes you hungry for more. // Craig Howieson
Part punk record, part mockumentary, ‘THE UNRAVELING OF PUPTHEBAND’ finds the Toronto four piece playing fast and loose with the third wall, inviting listeners into the chaotic and often caustic nature of recording and releasing an album. Although they may be forecasting their own demise, albeit with tongue firmly in cheek, frontman Stefan Babcock and co. do it in rousing fashion as the power-pop rock of Matilda will attest. More experimental than previous records, with skits and an embrace of wider instrumentation breaking up proceedings, Babcock’s voice sits above it all, as direct as an audiobook dragging you down pits of self-doubt to unearth glimmering gold. // Craig Howieson
Released amid the shock departure of vocalist Isaac Wood, ‘Ants from Up There’ undoubtedly arrived at a tumultuous time for the band, yet in its own right has been able to shine through as a future cult classic. Retaining all of the band's experimental appeal but leaning into a warmer indie sound, here Black Country, New Road soften their music without losing any of their edge. All seven members lend a unique trait to the eclectic collection of tracks, with myriad instruments and styles breezing through in exquisite harmony, despite the inner unrest that brews just beneath the band's foundations. // Rebecca Llewellyn
A throwback folk storyteller and visionary auteur, with the headstrong drive of a punk, Alynda Seggara loves to house real world issues within Technicolor fictional concepts. This time, however, their injustice-busting protest anthems have been conveyed in a way that, courtesy of a more introspective bent and fitting stylistic delivery system, was deemed necessary to give such important personal and socio-political stories a broader reach. Bathed in contemporary textures, sun-blanched melodies decorate a thematically powerful assemblage of lush synth-pop, garage rock ‘n’ roll, shimmering electronica and raw Americana that strives to awaken the masses from their comfortable slumber. // Simon Ramsay
Reuniting former members of Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Vöid kept the scuzz and chaos of their former band while turning up the power-pop. Guitarist-vocalists Alanna McArdle and Owen Williams remain a compelling double act, weaving together hooks that are heart-stoppingly immediate one moment and delightfully subtle the next. Its 10 songs are over and done with in 24 minutes, but that just means you can go again, and again, and again. // Huw Baines
It's difficult to accurately categorise Black Midi, though if you've been following the band since their brilliant 2019 debut ‘Schlagenheim’, you already knew that. On ‘Hellfire’ they take their peculiar MO one step further, displaying a spectacular ability to meld disparate influences into bold, challenging bangers. There aren't many acts today who sound like this, whether it's the rousing aural assault of Welcome to Hell, or the pensive faux-country number The Defence. Black Midi are an unstoppable, unfathomable beast of their own making. // Jack Terry
When an ageing great plays with the carefree, supercharged energy of youth, while performing material written by their experienced, inner master craftsman, it could easily be described as the perfect artistic sweet spot. Such a wonderful equilibrium is exactly what we hear on Elvis Costello’s best work in years. A breezy-blast of boundless rock ‘n’ roll joy, albeit one that confidently stirs in a kaleidoscopic palette of eclectic stylistic flavours, this feast of scrumptious off-kilter pop hooks, spicy wordplay, tasty melodies and grin-inducing arrangements has been expertly curated by someone who might well be music’s answer to Benjamin Button. // Simon Ramsay
Away from his day job with the Hold Steady, Craig Finn has been quietly assembling a formidable solo catalogue. ‘A Legacy of Rentals’ is another evocative study of life on the margins, with a tight appreciation for melody and expressive musicianship marshalled by returning producer Josh Kaufman allowing Finn to flit between moments that sound like ‘Full Moon Fever’-era Tom Petty and, on the standout Never Any Horses, pointed, noisy R.E.M.-worship. // Huw Baines
If their self-titled debut, which reimagined classic folk numbers with a loving retro-modernistic caress, elicited a slight whiff of well-travelled muso side project, ‘Rolling Golden Holy’ crowned Bonny Light Horseman as the real deal. Over 10 self-penned diamonds that knitted together a gently dexterous web of subtle instrumental strokes, sugar-sweet harmonies and acutely humane storytelling, the US threesome seamlessly infused traditional folk sensibilities with earthy Americana vibes to create a stealthily infectious slice of genial escapism. Blending sound and sentiment to perfection, these songs feel like they were brought into the world to heal something deep within us. // Simon Ramsay
A compelling window into the mind of Ezra Furman, ‘All of Us Flames’ is so unflinchingly earnest in its delivery that it sets a new precedent, with Furman emerging as the voice of a queer generation. As personal shifts in Furman’s own universe have coincided with ripples of unease in society at large, this latest album laces our world together with a dystopian alternate reality, providing an introspective focus that pierces through in its shocking revelations. Over a score of alt-rock and roaring indie folk, ‘All of Us Flames’ is an album that proves both powerful and mesmerising in equal parts. // Rebecca Llewellyn
A compelling song cycle that reveals, in unflinching detail, how deliberately stoking the fire of suffering for artistic purposes can wreak havoc with one’s personal life, ‘Dance Fever’ soundtracks Florence Welch’s deconstruction of her carefully crafted, but ultimately suffocating, self-mythology. Charging head-first through destructive behaviour patterns and crutches, internal dissonance is evoked over a conceptual smorgasbord of confessional folk, industrial interludes, sweeping electronica and glorious baroque pop. Shrewdly arranged and magnificently sung, the material pinballs from upbeat and frisky to terrifyingly intense, perfectly mirroring Welch’s unpredictable relationship with her complex, inner demonic self. // Simon Ramsay
From opening tortured note to last aching chord, ‘Strictly A One-Eyed Jack’ spins the reflective, first person allegory of its intriguing titular anti-hero over imperiously synergistic strains of bare-boned folk, gutsy rock ‘n’ roll, gritty blues and haunting jazz. Delivered by Mellencamp’s grizzled Tom Waits croon, this unvarnished journey into the darkest heart of regret, grief, societal erosion and duplicity subliminally warns us to cherish our time and act with honour because, when mortality strikes and there’s no sign of a redemptive light, only pitch black nothingness awaits at the end of the tunnel. // Simon Ramsay
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‘Heavy Pendulum’, their first full studio recording in over a decade, is a towering return to form. Eschewing such concerns as genre, they cover sludge (New Reality), towering balladeering alt-rock (Blinded By A Blaze), progressive thrash (Wavering Angel) and everything in between, without ever losing steam or coherency. It’s also something of a memorial to Schofield, with Amaranthine being a song he started writing and finished by the band as they sought to rediscover what Cave In can sound like in 2022. // Will Marshall
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