Thomas Blake

Hen Ogledd’s third album, DISCOMBOBULATED, is fresh, weird, pranksterish, passionate and downright uncategorisable as we have come to expect. Their blend of freaky electronic folk-rock, politically charged psych-pop and modernist compositional techniques is elusive, bewildering and brilliant—music that seems to invent new colours. Admirably anti-bigotry, anti-corporate, anti-corruption. Their most consistent, relevant and boundary-pushing record yet.

Pefkin (Gayle Brogan) understands the fluidity and adaptability of ambient music better than most. Unfurling ranks among her most beautiful work, showcasing an exceptional understanding of timing, contrast, and texture. Its many drifts and folds are expertly curated, balanced perfectly between atavism and modernity. Though the component pieces are minimal, they are layered so subtly that they create complex musical tapestries.

From street-busking in Carlow to collaborating with Boygenius, Ye Vagabonds’ journey culminates in ‘All Tied Together.’ Releasing January 30, their fourth album swaps traditional covers for deeply personal original songwriting. Produced by Phil Weinrobe, it’s a masterful blend of earthy folk and experimental textures—shimmering synths and soaring strings—capturing the grit of their past and the warmth of home.

Lande Hekt’s Lucky Now marks a sophisticated evolution for twee pop. Blending the political optimism of Amelia Fletcher with the introspection of Sarah Records, Hekt expands the genre’s boundaries using 90s alt-rock grit and sparkling production. From the jangly title track to the sharp social commentary of “Circular,” these three-minute gems establish Hekt as a highly individual, accomplished artist.

With The Fallen By Watch Bird, Jane Weaver found a definitive and singular voice, sloughing off psych-pop signifiers for trancey, kraut-inspired rhythms and expansive synth flights. This expanded reissue, with ‘The Watchbird Alluminate’ (featuring various guests), confirms her lavish vision, blending folkloric dreaminess with motorik rhythms. It remains a crucial album in her oeuvre, proving Weaver was a progenitor of hauntology and freak folk whose formative work still stands up.

Jana Horn’s music creeps up on you; she occupies an in-between world where she works with such restraint and such a keen ear for the space at the centre of a song that it renders genre practically meaningless. She has the gift for breathing life and lived experience into her words, and this muted, wandering album is her best yet.   

Julianna Barwick and Mary Lattimore’s long-awaited collaboration, Tragic Magic, is a radiant masterpiece of experimental beauty. Utilising antique harps and vintage synths at the Philharmonie de Paris, the duo transcends “new age” tropes with dexterous, modernist compositions. From the futuristic sweep of “Stardust” to the poignant solace of “Melted Moon,” it is a confident, immersive album that lingers in the memory long after its last notes fade.   

Many Hands’ There are Moss Balls in Paradise is a decidedly earthy take on ambient music, rough at the edges and hauntingly human. Triggered by a child’s grief over a dead fish, Henderson’s restless, freewheeling vision treads the line between tranquillity and uncanny depth. It is a watery ode to humanity and our fragile relationship with the natural world.

New York/Berlin duo Church Car—Big Daddy Mugglestone and Ian Douglas-Moore—debut with Church Of, a remarkably coherent album that feels like traversing a surreal role-playing game. Blending analogue synth, zither, and field recordings, the pair shuttles between grainy psych minimalism and structured melodicism. It’s a puzzling, adventurous journey where improvisational noise and avant-rock sparring constantly evolve into something new and exciting.

Expertly curated by Nyahh Records, An Irish Almanac is a sprawling 32-track survey of Ireland’s avant-garde. Spanning two discs, it treats “noise” as a broad umbrella for everything from dark drones and “occult freak-folk” to playful vocal experiments. While no compilation of this kind could ever claim to be complete, this detailed panorama offers a transformative map of a shifting underground scene, bursting with grit, mystery, and playfulness.

It’s that tough time of the year again, when music writers feel like they’re throwing some of their favourite artists under the bus by not including them in their annual Top 10. But here are the ten albums that made it. From Shabason, Krgovich, Tenniscoats’ feather-light pop to Milkweed’s eerie folk and Ben Lamar Gay’s thrilling jazz, 2025 delivered essential, fearless, and deeply distinctive records.

Erlend Apneseth Trio and writer Erlend O. Nødtvedt collaborate on Black Hauge, an album that expertly fuses experimental Norwegian folk with the poetry of Olav H. Hauge. Using samples of the poet reciting his own work, the music employs techniques from plunderphonics and musique concrète to create stunningly original and often uncanny tracks. It’s an exploratory, free-folk journey. A stunningly original album that combines elements rarely seen together.