Clark’s falsetto, reminiscent of Caribou’s Dan Snaith or executive producer Thom Yorke, is used carefully as a texture that neither distracts nor dominates, counterbalancing the occasionally abrasive electronics.

There’s not a weak song here. A genuine pleasure to listen to.

If some of Young’s ballads feel more conventional, the jazz-tinged Pretty in Pink reveals an artist who questions, but ultimately knows who she is.

It’s a sprawling, chequered affair, with six of its 14 tracks co-written with Albarn (she on guitar, he on synths), while the rest co-opt a stellar cast of collaborators. There’s much to admire.

Animals continues seamlessly, using a raft of guest musicians and rappers, its rhythms shuttling between drum kit and electronica.

Starring his voice and nimble guitar, with subtly dramatic instrumentation adding texture throughout, this is less a record than a dream state designed to wash over the listener in one sitting.

Though interludes from the late guru Ram Dass feel a little hokey, overall Gag Order is polished, powerful and affirming.

This is an album full of emotional ambushes.

Perhaps Money Plant is overlong, but the mournful coda of Ladder more than makes up for it. Yes, it’s a little one-dimensional, but it’s a lovely dimension.

The spacious, wiggly drum’n’bass of You, Love outclasses much of the jungle 2.0 around now, while You Broke My Heart but Imma Fix It is so nimble and textured it’s impossible to pin down. The slight downside: The Rat Road remains dominated by voices that are not Jerome’s, so it’s hard to hear the autobiography. But that’s a small caveat.

While many mainstream acts lean on jazzists to lend some flair, it’s rare that it goes the other way. But Dinner Party bring serious chops to contemporary music’s top table.

Voice Notes is conceptually and musically accomplished, flourishing with inspired narratives and sensuality at every turn. It seamlessly blends jazz, soul and electronica without overpowering the singer-songwriter’s supple vocals. There’s so much to love and savour.

The record is a career highlight from an accomplished artist producing luscious, storytelling music from experiences so foundational that they defy neat narrative.

While it’s an emotional listen, I Came From Love is not a difficult record, musically.

The usual downside of a live recording is that you’re left with a somewhat faint imprint of the feeling in the moment. But this album elevates the form, and further marks Dawid out as one of the most vital avant-garde artists of her time.

This 13-track album is a more emphatic, even angry work charting her emotional evolution [than mixtape What We Drew].

Her singing is excellent throughout, whether coolly confident on Be On Your Way’s account of letting a long-distance relationship lapse, or glassy and slightly numbed during Party’s hymn to hard-won sobriety. It takes a while to absorb how cleverly arranged songs such as Junkmail and Future Lover are, as 12 Ensemble’s delicate string orchestration adorns robust performances from Haefeli and Aguilella.

Backed by a gospel choir, 16-piece string section and horn fanfares, HMLTD confidently tackle musical styles as varied as choral harmony (Worm’s Dream), hook-laden soul (The End Is Now), grungy rock (Saddest Worm Ever) and plaintive pop balladry (Lay Me Down). ... It’s this richness that gives the album its depth, harnessing a large ensemble to showcase HMLTD as a band capable of committing to grand visions with brilliant intensity.

The result is magnificent: “dance” music that bursts out of the grid with retro textures, prelapsarian oscillations, birdsong and bells.

Oon The Record, Baker, Bridgers and Dacus pack layer upon layer into their sound, standing tall and exquisite.

It’s a sprightly, restless set, with Segal’s plucked cello providing a thrumming heartbeat to what is a communal, improvisational approach. ... This is truly fusion music.

Sprawling. ... Engrossing, audacious record.

There’s warmth in the album’s fusion of industrial grind with delicate melody, and producer James Ford sparks a revivifying weirdness in songs such as My Cosmos Is Mine. For a record preoccupied by death, its big heart bursts with life.

A handful of derangedly catchy singles have already rolled off the tracklist, highlighting the pair’s fluency with nagging melodies and killer hooks. The glorious Mememe still offers up an earworm crafted from bass and tinnitus.

Like her previous EPs, this latest release showcases Archives’ versatility, demonstrating how jungle lends itself to updates as varied as Brazilian party music, jazzy side notes and lo-fi introspection.

Mostly Radical Romantics is witty, inquisitive about physical and psychological relationships, and less austere than before. The songs produced with Olof are excellent.

An affecting album of depth and beauty.

This is, simultaneously, a very Albarn-forward, state-of-the-world Gorillaz record, and one packed with guests channelling different energies.