Compositions range from the lengthy to just fragments, and while it feels at points more like a collection of sessions than necessarily a complete stand-alone album conceived as such, the end results are still well worth hearing.

Per usual, the music is skewed and exhausting (in the best way imaginable) and the rhythmic interplay between bassist Jacob Long and drummer Damon Palermo is fantastic.

Longtime Darkest Hour fans should be very pleased by this record; they continue to write good songs and perform them with commitment and power. Because of their consistency, though, this album would also make a great introduction to the band's catalog.

The photo of the band in the CD booklet shows three guys in a tight circle playing heads-down intense, and it feels like this camaraderie and dedication has paid off in a record that may not save their career commercially, but will prove that they are still vital and exciting.

Ultimately, What's It All About is an intimate work revealing Metheny's investigation of composition itself. The notion of song is inherent in everything he does, and he reveals that inspiration in spades here.

The songs on Ruining It for Everybody don't feel slapped together, and despite the fact that they don't seem like they should work, the band pulls off their sound well. Add the album's concise running time to the mix and you have an album that works like Ritalin for anyone with a serious case of heavy metal ADD.

Designated chillout areas and other blue rooms will find Fever Dream a worthwhile soundtrack, while longtime fans get that wistful vagabond indie-hop style once again, only this time it's transmitted from deep, blissful space.

If they keep making records as good as Mountaintops, they will have totally earned their gold watch and pension when they call it a day.

Everything's easy and natural, and the Stepkids sound more like purveyors of the genre than imitators. Quite an accomplishment.

Red is a strong step forward for a very promising band that arrived with an intriguing voice already established and has now made it even richer and more interesting.

With such an ambitiously unconventional approach, it's quite an achievement that Ilo Veyou contains far more hits than misses.

There are some missteps and some rookie mistakes here, but ultimately, the collaged beats and convergences of found sounds stumble onto brilliance more often than they fall to the wayside.

True works as a whole and creates an unbroken mood and feel that is both nocturnal and strangely uplifting.

Even if it's not necessarily the kind of music that would make it into regular rotation, it's inventive and fun, which is more than enough for a project like this.

The bulk of Made in Germany is undoubtedly still an acquired taste, but as an overview of the country's biggest rock export, it's a fairly representative collection and showcases them at their best.

While this is a remarkably process-oriented album, Soft Fall is also some of Barthmus' most engaging work, especially on the tracks where tight song structures give form and contrast to his grandiose tendencies.

All Time Low swallowed their pride, rededicated themselves, and ended up making the best record yet in a very consistently satisfying career.

They actually make the effort to show why they're worth paying attention to across six often lengthy tracks. At points their approach is more like providing catnip to well-inclined fans.

This is the final group of recordings Smith plans to release from the 100 Records project, and it's just as strong as any of the others.

Hard to stack up to the wonder years this far into their career, but Rat Farm comes darn close, and the tracks on their 14th outing are the closest they've come in a long time to the colorful, no-frills brand of twangy alt-rock and informal punk (with hints of Americana, country, folk, and prog) that they instilled on their SST records.

Get There is as pleasurable as anything Hatfield or Nada Surf have offered listeners in recent years.

Chiaroscuro is built to unspool slowly, cut deep, and last a long time.

Lights Out features a broadened sonic palette and a much more robust vocal performance; it's a transformation she's been perfecting since 2009's Everybody and 2012's Human Again.

Love Without Fear is a strong, mature work and it's great to hear Wilson step out from behind his collaborators to present his own work again.

Given its all-encompassing title, it's fitting that ∞ (Infinity) is one of Tiersen's most ambitious albums, but its grand scale only magnifies his music's heartfelt beauty.

While Lee Bains III & the Glory Fires may be a great rock & roll band, they haven't quite cracked the code on making a great album, at least in terms of audio, and Dereconstructed manages to be impressive, encouraging, and frustrating at the same time.

Heavy Reverie does seem a bit like a holding pattern, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, not with a band as good and as maverick as this one is, but it leaves one wondering just how good these guys could be.

Oldham’s intentions behind re-recording these relatively recent songs are puzzling, but the curious nature of the album is just another chapter of the mysterious, and in this case highly enjoyable saga of Bonnie "Prince" Billy.

Like Earle's best work, Absent Fathers is low on flash and high on emotional honesty and perceptive songwriting, and paired with Single Mothers this is some of his most intelligent and moving music to date.

Even during his '90s heyday, he looked over his shoulder while living in the present, happily threading in trends while seeming impervious to them. This skill is difficult to acquire but Damn Country Music, like so many other Tim McGraw albums, makes it seem as simple as breathing.

As extreme music, Bloodiest is excessive, unforgiving, and unrelenting. It's bent and twisted. As such, this album nearly dictates compulsive listening.

Conscious builds upon the promise of their debut and goes well beyond with a tight vision of a glimmering pop future for the Notts.

How to Be a Human Being's sense of wonder and joie de vivre feels as instructive to Glass Animals as their listeners, and their willingness to try anything results in some truly great moments.

If Soundwalk Collective's music is often lovely but understated, Patti Smith's vocals give Killer Road the pale fire that makes it come alive; she never sounds like Nico, but she ably brings forth the voice of a poet facing her final crisis, and Smith understands that just well enough to communicate it to the audience.

Redemption & Ruin is a fine covers album: it not only illuminates and adds new dimensions to these songs, but it unmistakably reflects the Devil Makes Three's musical persona, making it a welcome addition to their catalog.

"Charlie Brown" is a swirling circle of doom, "I'll Take It and Break It" punishes with its stomping riff, "Bums" races along, while "Nightcrawler" revels in its menacing depravity. All this makes The Deaner Album sound a little excessive but there are also moments of madcap pop ("Bundle of Joy," "You Were There"), twisted country ("Tammy"), and funk ("Mercedes Benz"), all parceled out with expert pacing, so the album plays like a drunken, giddy party.

Sillion is all top-shelf and one of the strongest releases of his career.

A few songs do depart from expressing pain and the documentation of recovery. Brightest of all is "Find the Love," pure early-'80s boogie throwback. Just beneath that is the title track, a theatrical empowerment anthem that would likely close just about any other album. Instead, extra punctuation is provided by "Hello Father," another gem.

Maybe it's missing a little bit of the thrill that came along with hearing TERRY for the first time, but there isn't much anyone can do about that. All the band can do is keep cranking out these kinds of smart and snappy pop songs an album at a time, hopefully for as long as possible.

Judging by how well they execute this pop/rock hybrid sound, Gossip is a risk that paid off.

Compared to the debut, this has a little more definition.

Seventeen years into their recording career, Dead Meadow sound as primal and potent as ever on The Nothing They Need, a notion that ought to cheer them up. But don't count on it.

The National Jazz Trio's style can seem too sparse and basic to make an impression at first, but their approach exposes genuine emotions, and it's unconventional enough to elude easy comparison.

The EP is classic Mazzy Star, showing none of the ravages of time one might expect and still making beautiful music that weaves a spell that's hard to break.

Across the album's 12 yearning songs, the performances not only breathe but seem to sigh in concert with the main duo, arriving at what is much more an expansion of their trademark sound than a renouncement of it.

On ["Love Means Taking Action"] and throughout The Anteroom, Krell sounds revitalized; by revisiting his noise-drenched past with the experience he's gained since then, he delivers an album that's just as impressionistic as his early work, and possibly even more adventurous.

A front-loaded set song-wise, it maintains an effervescence and living-room danceability that has the potential to charm the masses.

While it's doubtful anyone is looking to Giuda for their depth of content, there is a bit of déjà vu to these ten songs which, thematic setting aside, sound very much like the band's first three albums.

The mood here is much bleaker than the previous album, and there's more of a feeling a desperation in Jason Molina's vocals.

Goons Be Gone isn't the perfect synthesis of chaos and control that No Age have been searching for their entire career, but it finds some of their best songs and most fruitful experiments presented in a style that's never sounded more singularly their own.

Nowhere Generation may lack the nervy zeal of peak efforts like Siren Song of the Counter Culture and Appeal to Reason, but it most certainly has the gravitas.

Windflowers is a wonder of detailed production and easy elegance, though it also suffers from a sameness in tone that dulls its overall impact. It's certainly comfortable, and maybe that was Efterklang's intent, but they are at their best when throwing in the occasional left-turn or sonic shake-up.

Unsettling and plaintive throughout, the soundtrack ends with its sole song, the also mournful "The World to Come," which calls back earlier musical themes. A striking score debut, it does much to establish the film's tone.

If formulaic in approach, cosmopolitan rhythms and trippy hooks vary, and any track or combination of tracks on the album is well-suited for front-of-house play or for a soundtrack to get the party started.

Fueled by the long-promised light at the end of the tunnel after the COVID-19 lockdown, it's also the band's most vibrant and accessible outing to date.

It's not all the hits, but as they run through "Just Got Paid," "Heard it on the X," "La Grange," "Tush, "I'm Bad, I'm Nationwide," and "Legs," it feels like they are -- but there's still energy and a palpable joy in how they launch into a groove or extend themselves in a jam and it's still a wonder to hear Gibbons solo.

Doe and his accompanists sound fully engaged even when this music is whisper-quiet, and it's impressive that a record that sounds this casual is so compelling.

Apart from "Zone 1 (24 Hours)," the selections are generally brief and concise, and the shortest ones sometimes feel like sketches that could've been developed further. Still, the techno side of Mount Kimbie is just as creative as the pop/R&B/hip-hop side, and both halves of MK 3.5 contain several gems.

Racing the Storm is a potent return with quality songwriting that nods to her past, but introduces a new element that suits her quite well.

And Then You Pray for Me is a 75-minute feast, uneven and sometimes overly familiar if still satisfying.

Russell converts extemporaneous dialogue from the participants into collage-like pieces across the LP. Other thematically relevant choices for samples and interpolations -- including songs by Shawn Smith, Jackson C. Frank, and Molly Drake, all of whom are deceased -- add even more emotional resonance. Melody is foregrounded by a cross-generational ensemble of 18 featured voices and winds players.

A little refinement in the writing room might be appreciated in the long term, but it's clear that JENNIE has the vision to deliver something spectacular.

Last Missouri Exit is a thoroughly entertaining debut from a band that knows how to make the most of that most uncommon of musical virtues, modesty.

While some of Holy Island is danceable, some is dreamy, and some is pure atmosphere, these characteristics come together on the six-minute closer, "Morning Bell," which, with more crashing water sounds alongside footsteps and an actual bell, seems to leave us shipwrecked rather than safe in bed as we awaken from a dream.

Adamson's music for SCALA!! sounds like ideal accompaniment for all manner of nefarious behavior; it's one of his most entertaining film scores and great fun for post-punk hipsters and psychotronic film freaks alike.

Like most remix collections, this should be approached as a bonus round for fans of the original release, but there's an abundance of worthwhile material here.

Short and sweet, it highlights all the different styles and moods the quartet is capable of, proving they still have it and hinting at exciting directions for a future full-length.

Almanac proves that Widowspeak can embrace more traditional sounds without feeling stuffy, as well as make music that's much more eclectic than might have been expected.

With We All Want the Same Things, Finn has crafted some of the strongest and most moving music of his career, and if his tales aren't often upbeat, they have the ring of truth and will stay in your memory long after the album is over.

Warts and all, this is one of the strongest albums in Wiley's already impressive catalog.

God Help the Girl should probably just be viewed as a flawed work or a semi-successful adventure by a solo artist who needs his band to be truly great.

If the riffs don't always sink in deeply--and if the entire production feels slightly monochromatic--what impresses here is the thought and musicality within the compositions and the performances, elements that have always been at the band's core and shine brightly on Hardwired... To Self-Destruct.

If indeed they are carrying the torch for the classic Canterbury sound, they're doing it smartly and on their own unique terms, with another impressive stop on their road of discovery.

This is one of Ladd's most accomplished albums to date, proving once again that he's one of the most forward-thinking artists around.

Here Come the Choppers may not win the songwriter many new fans, but because of its consistency and terminal uniqueness, it will certainly keep his fan base coming back for more.

Minotaur is as essential as anything else the band has released and whether as part of Bonfires or on its own, the record stands as a welcome addition to their legacy as one of the great indie pop bands of their era.

They have never shown such control on a record before -- previously, their best albums were exciting because they went all over the place, and did it well -- and it's quite intoxicating to hear them ride one groove, finding different variations within it, for an entire album.

In a less skilled writer's hands, this sort of thing might be off-putting, but with Toth behind the wheel, Death Seat makes for a weirdly wonderful ride.

Although the tracks rarely surprise, frequently falling back on familiar sounds and structures -- loping basslines and synthesizer shadings that escalate at the same tempo always arrive on time, for instance--they're as well-built as those of the debut, and the Lawrences, along with their songwriting partners, cover the ups and downs of falling in and out of love in sharper fashion.

Strange Weekend is a very impressive debut album, full of craft, emotion, and songs that you'll want to listen to again and again.

Wild World proves that Bastille can build on their success with style. They're the kind of band that sounds better as they get bigger, and their thoughtful lyrics, jaunty melodies, and huge choruses could fill a Coldplay-shaped hole in listeners' hearts.

Putrifiers II is part snapshot and part look into the crystal ball, showing Dwyer and company's ever-changing approach to songwriting and musicianship, and further cementing Thee Oh Sees' status as one of the most liberated, vital bands in indie rock.

Let's Start Here. may be more loud guitars than 808s, but Lil Yachty still commands the songs powerfully, making vessels of expression out of whatever sounds he chooses.

Music is a cyclone of weird turns, big ideas, and choices that don't really make sense together, but are still somehow enjoyable under the banner of blissful confusion that Playboi Carti has made his brand from the start.

Sometimes the looseness that makes 180 so charming borders on unfocused rambling, but for the most part, the Palma Violets keep it in check on this entertaining, promising debut.

The album's depth and openness to straying away from typical devices of the genre make Atlas one of the more engaging and thought-provoking metalcore releases amid a sea of the interchangeable riffs and howls of other bands.

It's a fine outing from a versatile band that knows what they do best, and man, they can rock.

Fear in Bliss is a lovingly crafted and well-written album by a young band coming into its own.

If not a break-up album, a dreading-breaking-up album whose pace, palette, minor chords, and Låpsley's disquieted vocal performances all collaborate for a debut that's impressively locked into a distinct head space.

Aufheben's shining moments are the most daring ones, and are also surprisingly sweet.

Dirty Side Down is a tad long, but when the songs are this good, WP gets a pass. This is easily the band's finest studio offering in over a decade.

All in all, Stay Home is a step up from the Beets' debut, though it's hard not to imagine they're going to have to face the choice of either learning to play or hitting the creative wall some time in the future.

Those looking for a direct story of how Beanie earned three years in the clink will be somewhat disappointed, but these chunks of insight into the man's turmoil -- and the couple party tunes that go with them -- add up to one hell of an album.

There's no precedent for an album that worships a no-show so hard on one hand, flips the bird to hip-hop protocol with the other, and knowingly refuses to push things forward, even flaunts it.

From the first notes of their sophomore LP Dismania, the grime, depravity, desperation, and sometimes fun of [New York City] come through in screaming waves.

On the whole, while the album lacks a certain distinctiveness (Lauber's vocals mostly blend, too), there's strength in its solid core and easygoing vibe.

Of the pair, Vol. 1 is the most interesting lyrically, but it's uneven--even boring at times--musically, particularly in the last third.

The album taps out at 25 minutes, but it's urgent enough that it clearly makes its point within that time frame.