Artists' rankings

Yes, I'd heard something from Michael Kiwanuka over the years, mostly on BBC6, and it wasn't for me. The ingredients seemed right, but nothing that came out of my listens grabbed me. Then I was having dinner at my brother's place and he put Kiwanuka on. And, even though I'd already heard some of these new tracks on the radio, it was the ones I hadn't heard that caught my attention, especially “Hard To Say Goodbye”. Now, just because something sounds old doesn't mean it's good or beautiful (or anything in particular). But sometimes something that doesn't sound exactly like this (or any) particular moment happens to be good and cool. For me, this is that something.

One of the great musical mysteries for me is: why on earth isn't Sean O’Hagan better known? This is absolutely my album of the year. Sean's writing and arrangements keep getting better and better, but it's his singing on this record that I can't get out of my head: there's a confidence and a sense that he's come to terms with his instrument in a way he never had before. And, as much as I miss some of the bleeps and synths of years past (and they haven't entirely disappeared), the instrumental palette he's chosen here works beautifully with these wonderful songs. This record makes me very happy.

Yes, so let me try to describe this in a couple of sentences. Their website talks about Canterbury and Soft Machine, but what I'm hearing is Mighty Baby meeting Yes and The Bees. I know, I know: these comparisons can get tiresome, but I'm just trying to grab your attention. The songs are ambitious, but the multiple vocal parts and the drumming – the latter fluid and dynamically nuanced – turn them from calculated, mathematical songs into pieces of music you just want to sink completely into. I'd love to see them live – they're only three people and I'm dying to know how they pull off this heavily layered, complex music in a live setting. Maybe in 2020.

Cassette only, but so good it might be worth tracking down a tape player just to hear it. There's a funny story behind this project, a story that is quintessentially Liam. Many of the melodies on this release were recorded in a studio in Los Angeles about ten years ago but never released (they're out there if you know where to look). At some point, in the last year or two, Liam apparently decided he wanted to put the songs out – not necessarily those recordings, though – so he and Luther Russell had another go at it, taking a decidedly lo-fi approach. In other words, he did things backwards: a big production followed by "garage" recordings. And yet it's genuinely great and tight, and it doesn't sound lo-fi for the sake of being lo-fi (which is so often the case). These are outstanding songs and the performances are truly brilliant.

The latest news from my favorite musician, who might, quite possibly, come from another planet. What does this record sound like? Well, to my ears it sounds like the soundtrack to the most interesting video game I've ever heard. Not just in the choice of sounds – which often comes across with an 8-bit edge – but the songs themselves, with their simple-sounding (but definitely not simple) melodies and recurring instrumental motifs. And yet… warm and inviting. And personal. And reflective. Joni Mitchell from Pluto? Could be. Oh, and I will never stop hearing Komeda's Lena Karlsson in her voice (which is always a good thing – where are you, Lena?).

A disorienting surprise. As a fan of the great jazz ensembles of the '50s (or so – I'm thinking of Ellington and his suites), I'm constantly baffled by the shortage of musicians working in this genre nowadays. Yes, I know it's an expensive proposition and the potential audience isn't huge, but it still seems like there should be a decent number of artists out there making this kind of record. Well, lo and behold, Leonart has put together a brilliant group of musicians and written inventive, exciting arrangements for them to play. And, as fantastic as the records are, the ensemble is just as remarkable live – easily one of the most exciting groups I've heard play in New York in the last ten years. So, even if you don't think you like jazz (or Ellington, or big ensembles), check this out. And if you're in New York and they're playing, don't miss them.

A genuinely strange record. On first listen, I didn't know what to make of it – this is an extremely eccentric collection of recordings. The singing isn't exactly (or, in places, even remotely) singing. The production and playing are a bit of a mess at times. But after a few baffled listens, I found it's an album I keep going back to (and back, and back again). I know, I haven't really made much of an effort to describe what's actually in the grooves, but this is one of those cases where you should just check it out for yourself. There really should be more records like this

A delightful mix of prog and psych and a bit of psych-folk and a bit of prog-metal and, well, they seem to have covered just about everything on this record. Like many of my other favorite albums of this (or any) year, this one takes you on a journey. I'm not sure where that journey literally leads, but a great deal of care has gone into the songwriting and arrangements, keeping you – the listener – on your toes. Just when you think you know what's coming next, along comes something completely out of left field. And, as with the Jouis record, I love the drumming here. Great guitar playing and singing too.

I don't understand a word of Welsh, but just as with the great Super Furry Animals album “Mwng” – also sung in Welsh – that hasn't stopped me from loving this brilliant record. Rhys has narrowed his palette here – it's mostly guitar, voice and percussion – but his writing (and that voice) come through loud and clear. Wonderful songs, sparse (but very thoughtful) arrangements and absolutely lovely performances. I really do wonder what those lyrics are about…

Ah, another lovely thing from Wales. It feels like I'm stepping back into the mid-90s (and that's a great thing!). While there are traces of Gorky's Zygotic Mynci here, what I really feel I'm hearing is a band that shares Gorky's influences: fellow travelers, even if two decades later. It's all a lovely mix of electronic and acoustic, with delightful word-sounds (most of the lyrics are in Welsh), sung in an almost deadpan way. But it's the songs themselves – the super hooky melodies and the gently shifting chords – that kept bringing me back.