So imagine my surprise when the heart-attack like electronic opening of 15 Step begins, and Thom Yorke began to sing: “How come I end up where I started? How come I end up right where I went wrong? Won’t take my eyes off the ball again; You reel me out then you cut the string.”

Maybe I was odd, but I was instantly hooked — the music appealed to my then-germinating perfectionist tendencies. It also struck a chord that many artists weren’t hitting anymore: it was possible to do something totally new in both rock and electronic music. It was possible to re-invent yourself.

It’s hard for me to see this album outside of the rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia, although critics tend to agree with me about the album’s quality. I think it has many of Radiohead’s strongest, but most infrequently acknowledged tracks: the blissfully intimate Nude, the heart-crushingly beautiful House of Cards, and the otherworldly qualities of Weird Fishes/Arpeggi.

In a lot of ways, this is Radiohead at their most human: while the album is still littered with the electronic invention the band is now known for, it’s a more organic record than what came before (or since, really). Thom Yorke is at his primal best, but it’s not because he sounds as paranoid as usual. He seems unusually dialled back, this time yearning for any sort of human connection.

It’s as if the band grew tired of sounding digital and instead wanted to be human again — on both musical and personal levels. Its haunting beauty comes from its complete vulnerability; never before has Yorke or the rest of the band sounded so broken. (And Radiohead is not known for being happy.)

For people looking to get into a post-OK Computer Radiohead, it’s hard to recommend anything other than In Rainbows. Its vulnerability makes it approachable; its organic nature reveals its warmth — despite the band’s increasingly cold spirits. If I was absolutely pressured to choose a Radiohead album, this could come out on top.

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Consider Conqueror: it’s a giant, radio-friendly pop song with a simple piano riff for the chorus and a Coldplay-like guitar riff stacked behind it. It’s something your mother could listen to. But AURORA’s unusual, hypnotic voice makes it all feel very palatable. She gives it a sense of mystique.

Running with the Wolves is similar: the single is an obvious single that sounds destined for greatness in our Imagine Dragons era, but her voice saves the day again.

AURORA’s voice makes the quieter songs worth the price of admission. Lucky and Through the Eyes of a Child are two massive standouts on the record, given a sense of grace — and a hymnal quality — thanks to the Norwegian singer’s voice.

Much of these quieter tracks are reportedly influenced by Norwegian folk songs. Whether that’s true or not, they’ll bare an astounding resemblance to church music with North American audiences. As AURORA harmonizes with herself, she successfully emulates both Enya and the church choir, giving the album a much-needed sense of depth.

It all comes together on Warrior, the first potential single that feels like it really uses all of AURORA’s skills (and it comes very late in the album). Leaning on almost nothing but AURORA’s voice and a strong beat, Warrior lets the singer branch out and stretch her wings.

All My Demons Greeting Me as a Friend is an unusual pop album because it feels so stacked in its back half. Perhaps in a marketing move, the most bland radio songs are placed at the beginning of the record, and its most interesting radio-pleasers — Warrior and Murder Song (5, 4, 3, 2, 1) are left closer to the end.

When you listen to Warrior and Murder Song, it becomes apparent that AURORA listens to a lot of Björk. Before that, I wouldn’t have guessed. It’s on these tracks that AURORA feels like she’s free from the label’s requirements to put out generic pop songs and be herself, and they save the otherwise-generic singles from being totally forgettable (again, apart from her voice).

I’d love to hear an album of AURORA songs that sounds like the second half of this one. Until then, it’s clear that AURORA is a pop artist who still has to come into her own — but her future is promising.

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So Boucher put Grimes on hold for a little while to come up with new material. When the material did flow, it really flowed: there were over 100 songs written for Art Angels, most of which I don’t think we’ll ever hear — and Boucher has made it clear that these tracks are all part of Grimes records we wouldn’t be interested in anyway.

The result of all this writing, re-writing, and experimentation is Art Angels: a celebration of pop set against Grimes’ hallmark sunny sounds and weirdness. The opening three tracks are worth listening to as examples: an instrumental opener that’s simply bizarre leads into the radio-friendly California before the whole thing explodes into the decidedly not-for-radio Scream.

Those three tracks serve as a wonderful synopsis of the record: pop tracks like Belly of the Beat sit against oddities like Kill V. Maim (which might be the record’s best track), often dwelling in some sort of strange tension that makes the entire record feel oddly balanced in its leanings.

Despite these seemingly opposing directions — one experimental, and one radio-friendly — Grimes is able to hold it all together with uncompromising focus and unbridled imagination. Ultimately, the album feels like it’s two steps ahead of everybody else: pop music that’s laser-focused on experimenting with form and style, often to the point of flying off the tracks, all while remaining accessible.

It’s a miracle that these songs are accessible at all, though. Grimes isn’t writing love songs: on Kill V. Maim, she sings “I’m only a man; I do what I can,” words that feel completely defiant to the male-driven institution that is pop music. Throughout the record, Grimes practically screams for her freedom as an artist, experimenting with post-electronic noises and genre-pushing ideas that are more like middle fingers than love letters.

The consequence of all this is that it feels like Boucher is entirely avoiding anything personal with Grimes. There’s a sense of detachment throughout the record: it’s massively ambitious, but it’s also clearly a performance. Boucher isn’t involved on as personal of a level. While the vision is entirely hers, the world feels like a meticulously crafted production of her Grimes alter ego.

It begs the question: can pop music, in its truest form, be more personal? Or does it require detachment? Is Grimes answering the question, or has Boucher merely discovered that Grimes is at the unique intersection of performance and experimentation that allows her to drag a genre forward at the expense of herself?

Regardless of the answer, Art Angels is one of 2015’s strongest records, and a glimpse into the future of pop in an age where anything is possible.

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Fans of Holter will find her a little more laid-back here, less rollicking and rock ’n’ rolling and more reflective. Her voice suits this perfectly.

The icing on the cake is the production, which is densely layered and full of subtle intricacies. On my fifth listen, I was noticing things I hadn’t heard before. Holter’s voice is distracting as anything, like a more authentic Enya, so sometimes it’s difficult to even notice the rest of the experience supporting her. But everything about this record is top notch.

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A ton of songs on here are worth repeat listens — check out Real Thing, which has one of the best choruses going. There are some odd influences going on here — folk, hip hop, and electronic music all sort of intermingle together on occasion — often just sounding that way because of Merrill’s intonation when she sings.

Sink-O is another totally oddball, but fascinating track. Wait for a Minute is my favourite track on the record — just beautiful, lethargic music perfect for a lazy Saturday. Rocking Chair gets my award for weirdest song of the year.

Ultimately, tUnE-yArDs doesn’t care what you think. It’s a record from a musician who doesn’t care about your expectations, and has little to no respect for the traditional musical requirements of cohesion of listenability. nikki nack is a playful, eccentric record that’s willing to have fun by refusing to play along with the program.

nikki nack is wildly inventive, and tUnE-yArDs makes it look easy. Like the most creative work, it’s bursting with the joy of experimentation. nikki nack should absolutely be the first thing you listen to this week. (Water Fountain is the first single.)

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