The Joy Hotel: Ceremony

Sometimes more is more. The Joy Hotel’s debut album is the sound of seven musicians in a room jamming good through a proudly maximalist suite of songs. Ceremony was recorded live-to-tape at the legendary Rockfield Studios in Wales, with producer Chris McCrory capturing that room-where-it-happens energy, from rip-roaring opener ‘I Decline’ via luscious country waltz ‘Forever Tender Blue’ to the proggy blast of ‘First Joy’. And that’s just the first three songs.

This Glasgow septet, fronted by charismatic powerhouse Emme Woods and guitarist/co-vocalist Luke Boyce, conduct themselves with the no-messing confidence of a band who know they have the goods to share and are just taking care of business. Classic references abound: first single ‘Jeremiah’ is a big, bold flourish of a song combining Wall Of Sound drums with a shameless ‘Dear Prudence’ guitar figure and some old-testament imagery. Lyrically, it’s the end of the world as some see it.

The ballad ‘Killing Time’ showcases their understated side but mostly they let rip, with the burnished bravado of ‘Rapid Eye Movement’, the classic rock carousel of ‘Twenty Three (A Comedy)’ and the suitable cacophonous climax of ‘Small Mercy’ testifying that, for sheer ambition and audacity, The Joy Hotel’s Ceremony would be a resounding choice for Scottish Album Of The Year. (Fiona Shepherd)

Kathryn Joseph: We Were Made Prey

Kathryn Joseph’s first three albums are almost perfect in their primal, haunting immediacy, so complete that it seemed as though their singular sound couldn’t be pushed further. Was there anywhere left for her to go? We Were Made Prey answers that question by melding the unrelenting thrum of Joseph’s piano with a diverse palette of electronics that add new depths to her songwriting. 

Reuniting with electronica maestro Lomond Campbell as producer, the heart-shattering desolation of earlier work turns into a malevolent horror movie creep on ‘Wolf’, while lilting synths on ‘Roadkill’ prove an able counterpoint to Joseph’s scratchy pathos laden vocals, flitting restlessly between sparseness and overwhelming intensity. 

Few artists can reach into their diaphragm and produce visceral emotion quite like Joseph, who sounds like she’s squirming on a hook, unable to stop herself reliving a deep-seated pain. She continues to favour violent imagery (bodies are clawed at, people are roadkill, bones are fractured) while never afraid to lean into a starry-eyed sense of beauty (‘Hold’ is perhaps the most hopeful she’s ever sounded). There are no easy listens on We Were Made Prey, but its unforgiving, tragic tone is belied by an otherworldly majesty. It may be her best record to date. (Kevin Fullerton)

Taahliah: Gramarye

That Taahliah produced an album as astonishing as Gramarye at the first time of asking came as no surprise to anyone who has been following her career. Interspersing otherworldly moments of enchantment with touching glimpses of vulnerability, the Glaswegian producer builds on the magic of her early work to produce an LP deserving of the plaudits it has received from a litany of electronic royalty. 

Having proudly rejected the ‘hyperpop’ label often lazily attached to her music, Gramarye is a stern warning to anyone who dares attempt to box Taahliah into one restrictive genre. From abrasive offerings such as the confrontational ballad ‘Eylvue’ to the glistening ‘Angel’ on which Taahliah coos ‘the world is hard but I’m soft like an angel’, each track is a masterclass on how to make engaging electronic music, crafted by an artist rightly high on confidence. On ‘Heavenrise’, we hear Taahliah’s voice for the first time and can only hope that singing becomes a staple of her approach to production going forward. Among those featured on the project are Devonté Hynes aka Blood Orange and the London Contemporary Orchestra, but it’s Taahliah’s show-stealing production that has Gramarye taking its rightful place on the SAY Award shortlist. (Danny Munro)

Zoe Graham: Tent

Nothing satiates my love for a feelgood album like a bit of synth pop. Add on top of that some heady, image-rich lyrics, stunning vocals and an undeniably queer narrative to feast my ears on and I can guarantee I’ll be coming back for seconds. In fact, since Tent’s release in March, I’ve strutted down pavements, run through parks, smiled out of train windows and danced in my kitchen to this album more times than I can count. Its ten tracks are perfectly formed (both from a songwriting and production perspective), covering a wide range of influences while remaining sonically cohesive and collectively singular. Zoe Graham’s brain seems to ooze delicious hooks and counter melodies that she packs into bangers and ballads alike.

While a sparkly lightness is captured in songs such as ‘Good Girl’ or ‘Push And Pull’ whose opening lines (‘The lingering peel of the orange skin / Dirty nails are a bitter flavour’) sink us into Graham’s arresting point of view. Similarly, ‘Evilin’ with its 70s funk sensibilities and St Vincent-esque theatricality, shows us Graham’s grit and bite, and boy is it moreish. Let me be the first to say: Scotland has a new alt.pop princess. (Megan Merino) 

Scottish Album Of The Year Award Ceremony, Caird Hall, Dundee, Thursday 6 November.