It’s not solely because of the album’s quality, either: Brown Girl is a captivating personal and political statement that strikes the same notes as Beyoncé’s records. “Welcome to the Jungle”, the album’s first track, feels as much like a personal track as it does a personal one about navigating racial platitudes.

The title track is a career-maker, a song that works as both a single and a protest song. “I’m not just a brown girl in the rain. I’m a girl that likes to sing,” Aaradhna croons over the chorus. It’s a powerful message: Aaradhna uses it to deny and redefine the colour of her skin, her genre, and her measures of success (on a song that will no doubt garner radio play and more serious “best R&B track” nominations later this year).

In many senses, that track is going to come to define Aaradhna’s success and her career this year — and perhaps next. It’s worthy of every bit of praise it’s going to receive.

When she’s not blending political and personal so deftly, Aaradhna’s writing big pop hits like “Empty Hall” or the tender “Talk Sweet to Me”. She’s capable of jumping genres from one songs to the next, and she does it convincingly — without ever feeling like the songs don’t belong together.

Most of these tracks — the non-protest tracks, if you will — deal with heartbreak and the death of a relationship. I particularly love “Under the Blue Moon”, which is a playful blend of many blues and jazz elements with R&B overtones. “Drunken Heart, Smokey Mind” is similarly about unrequited love, but after the fact.

I particularly like the opening lyrics to “I Don’t Know”, the album closer: “I thought that if I gave this world my heart it would show. Still I don’t know, still I don’t know.” The sadness here is palpable.

But what I love about these songs of heartbreak is that they could as much be about protest as they are about love. It could be the sound of a heartbroken woman of colour: a woman who loves the world and is shocked by the way it doesn’t love her back.

As separate themes, heartbreak and protest are not conducive to one another, but Brown Girl feels like the rare time that all the elements come together like magic. It’s a pop record that isn’t focused on dance tunes; instead, Brown Girl feels like the record we need to hear right now — and not the one we wanted.

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Let me give a little bit of context: Positive Thinking is a garage record that reminds me of White Stripes, but also Wolfmother. And the guitar fuzz, as well as the pre-chorus melody, remind me of one of the tracks from Wolfmother’s debut album.

When the pre-chorus comes in on “Yes, I Know”, my brain fills in the next blank from the memory of the Wolfmother song. The chorus I expect is the logical choice for a garage rock band to make; it would be a return to the key’s first note — the song’s pulse.

But The Pack A.D. go the opposite way, leaving the song in unresolved tension — and completely surprising me.

That whole scenario happens seemingly countless times on Positive Thinking: I’ll recognize the influence, I’ll know what comes next based on my expectations, and then The Pack A.D. does something else — every time. Whether it’s “Yes, I Know”, or the Misfits-influenced “Teenage Crime”, or even the Hives-influenced “Los Angeles”, the duo continues to sidestep my expectations.

If you don’t know The Pack A.D. very well, you might be surprised to find out the band has just two members: a drummer and guitarist/singer. They make a raucous amount of noise for two people, sounding much larger than they are. That’s one of the things they’re known for.

They’re also known for their energetic live shows, which you can tell Positive Thinking has been made for. With rare exception, these songs are loaded with punk-like attitudes that work well on the stage.

But even when the band isn’t playing punk-inspired garage rock, they manage to reset my expectations. On “Gold Eyes”, which sounds like a Rah Rah song (and betrays The Pack A.D.’s Canadian origins by association), they manage to beat my expectations every time by adding in a dash of energy just when I don’t expect it.

The jury’s out, though, on whether or not Positive Thinking is The Pack A.D.’s best record. It doesn’t matter, though: six albums in, The Pack A.D. is a completely different band from how they started, and it feels like they’ve fully embraced the alt-rock sound and more or less ditched their blues influence altogether.

But despite the fact that their influences continue to remain obvious, The Pack A.D. are getting better at creating a sound all of their own. Positive Thinking is many things, but I can’t count the number of times it flat-out surprised me. While they continue to cobble together their sound from a number of somewhat unsurprising places, The Pack A.D. have pulled together a surprisingly unique sound all of their own. Positive Thinking is their most definitive statement yet.

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The Stranger Things soundtrack is basically techno before we ever called it techno: it shares the same basic structures and synth-driven loops.

Not every track is densely populated with swirling rhythms and beats either; after all, this isn’t a Trent Reznor track. For every pulsing track (like “Kids”), there are two like “Nancy and Barb” and “This Isn’t You”. On top of that, most of the tracks are quiet short — about a minute and a half, on average.

At once, these tracks are reminiscent about so many ’80s trends in music: there are strong elements of the Alien and Terminator soundtracks, but also a sense of playfulness throughout many of the tracks that feels influenced by the decade’s rock groups. Tracks like “Lay-Z-Boy” and “Biking to School” feel inspired by Duran Duran.

Other tracks are sinister, bathed in the neo-noir that the show frequently references. “Agents” has a lot in common with the theme song — particularly in its evil-sounding probing pulse. Other times, songs like “Lamps” are sinister due to their haunting mystery.

But what makes the soundtrack work as a cohesive album that you can listen to is the way it all comes together: tracks don’t often bleed together like they do on traditional soundtracks, but it feels like each one is a piece of a larger whole. And while the music is impressive, it’s particularly great for focused work, where its ambient beats can become part of the background without ever losing their import.

At its heart, though, the soundtrack for Stranger Things works because it’s evocative musically of what might be this year’s most fascinating television show. The Stranger Things soundtrack is a trip back to the sci-fi film soundtracks of the ’80s, and it’s incredibly successful at accomplishing this mandate.

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No doubt this is intentional: “sparse” is the best word to describe the record, which features few vocal moments — and almost entirely for effect. Although Arnalds doesn’t replace every instrument with a piano — he still uses much of his string accompaniments — this record sounds entirely organic (and beautiful). It eschews much of the classical looping of his past efforts.

Ólafur still loops his instruments, though: “1995” is, fundamentally, a couple of loops that twist and turn around each other until the song is over. But on Island Songs, the loops aren’t made up of electronic noises or beats. There’s nary a beat to be found on the EP; it finds its rhythms through the sounds of the island.

There’s only one song on the EP that features a traditional vocal performance. “Particles” feels almost entirely different from the rest of the record, particularly because its beat is less implied and more forceful than the other songs. Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir’s vocal performance, though, feels like it does the work of four or five instruments, capturing the same vibe that Arnalds is working with throughout the rest of the record almost entirely on her own.

Her vocal work couldn’t come at a better time: Island Songs is perhaps purposefully similar throughout, with many songs sounding like riffs on a theme instead of separate ideas. While album closer “Doria” is the major key complement to the minor key opener, “Árbakkinn”, it retains many of the same musical ideas. This is purposeful: Island Songs captures the near-monochromatic beauty of Iceland’s vistas by making these tracks similar.

As a result, there’s no clear idea of where the record ends and where it begins; much like the island’s ecosystems, they fade in and out of each other. While each is individual enough on its own, they’re all clearly connected.

Island Songs is two things: entirely beautiful and completely focused. You’re not likely to hear a more focused EP this year, and Arnalds delivers the goods in spades. Island Songs is perhaps my favourite work from Ólafur to date.

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This focus on fun soul and piano elements continues with “No Warm Up”, which puts SonReal’s money where his mouth is. It’s purely vintage hip hop that sounds influenced Macklemore and Classified, but has SonReal’s unique vocal approach all over it. It’s also, like much of the EP, inescapably funny.

It helps, too, that SonReal is growing as a rapper. At the thirty second moment of “No Warm Up,” SonReal goes for a vocal riff that rivals anything Eminem spits. It’s pure skill on the mic.

On The Name EP, he drops almost every air of seriousness he might have had for a soul influence that becomes evident later on in the EP. (The only track on the record that takes itself too seriously is “Soho”, and it’s used almost to mock other rappers in the game.)

The soul influence continues on “All I Got”, which sees SonReal trade in hip hop for a particularly tender vocal performance. It’s a flawless (and surprising) R&B track that betrays SonReal’s abilities as a singer. It’s stunning. It makes it clear, too, that SonReal’s overarching influences from old-school Motown flavours.

Contrast the romance of “All I Got” with “Hot Air Balloon”. “Hot Air Balloon” is perhaps the most fun I’ve had with a hip hop track all year. The backing track sounds like Jackson 5, and SonReal embraces levity. It’s fun, funny, and most importantly, catchy as all get out. The bridges and codas, complete with a clapping choir and a soloing saxophone, are all too brief.

The Name EP makes a statement: SonReal embraces his abilities here better than ever, with a strong focus on soul influence and R&B that’s different from many of his peers. As always, SonReal’s writing crowd-pleasing hip hop, but The Name EP reveals how good he is at it — both as a producer and a rapper. It’s his finest and most polished release yet.

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