Dua Lipa

Hallucinate

No one ever says “this aeroplane is too well made” or “this pasty would be much better if it had someone’s manky yellow toenail in it”, so the fact that this disco-stomper feels constructed by boffins in a hermetically sealed lab to be the most effective chrome-plated slammer it can possibly be is hardly a criticism. Whomping bass, hi-hats like Pavlovian arse-shaking commands, a chorus bigger than a God’s tea cosy. Pop, weaponised, aimed straight for your tingly bits.

Kanye West

Donda

Is it possible to truly separate art and artist? On one hand you’ve got a Maga-hatted pillock who a) proudly claims to have invented leather jogging pants; b) thinks he should be president; and c) THINKS LEATHER JOGGING PANTS ARE A GOOD IDEA. On the other hand you’ve got this moving aural collage honouring his late mother on her birthday. It’s excellent. But … the pants, Kanye. They’d chafe your dangle-thatch clean off.

Mike Shinoda

Open Door

I’ll be straight with you: I chose this fully with the intention of tearing it a merciless new one. Shinoda – the rapper off of Linkin Park who is famously crap at doing rapping – has stitched it together with fans over Twitch, with a few of these Shin-diggers* dialling in to sing the chorus. And I wanted to hate it. Believe me I did. But I … liked it. There’s a chance you’ll like it, too. *Not a thing

James Blake

Are You Even Real?

You know James Blake songs? This sounds like exactly that. Erm, yep. Next?

Alanis Morissette

Reckoning

Just as Harper Lee is synonymous with To Kill a Mockingbird, and a certain kebab shop in Doncaster will be for ever described by me as “the place you get the pooing food”, Alanis is destined to spend eternity being associated with not knowing what irony is. Which isn’t ironic, but it is a shame, as this plaintive, brooding ballad finds that remarkable voice undiminished. It won’t provide the reckoning her legacy deserves, though. Which actually is ironic, I think. Is it? Literally no one knows.