Madness is their most consistent and well-crafted set list to date, and while it may move them further toward the pop end of the hardcore spectrum, it does little to dampen their combustible core.

If I Was is an album that expands The Staves' musical range without smothering the qualities that make them so memorable, and it's a step forward that brings out the best in the trio.

Their new sound might scare off some of the psych lovers who dug their debut, but for anyone looking for some weird heavy rock noise, Golem fits the bill.

Summer Bones, the band's fourth studio long-player and first outing for Pure Noise Records, effectively seals the deal, offering up an 11-track set of slickly produced, earworm-heavy, festival-ready singalongs shot through with enough good old-fashioned punk/hardcore spirit to make the transition easy for old-schoolers looking for a respite from breakdown town.

Often compared to Ed Sheeran and Ben Howard, Chaos and the Calm shows James Bay has the style and the ability to stand on his own, and it's the work of a new performer with an impressive potential.

Everything swirls in cacophonous, ever repeating, four-beat drones; only Trudeau's violins offer variation in a frenzied, harmonic counterpoint.

Ultimately, III is some of Föllakzoid's most confident work yet, and a testament to their ability to be heavy and atmospheric at the same time.

This is a welcome, snarling, and satisfying return.

Radium Death finds Whitmore at his songwriting and singing best. That said, his successful indulgence in rock & roll's various forms makes one wish he had just put the entire album on stun.

While not truly a debut, since Jalbert has been around awhile, Cosmic Troubles does herald the arrival of a band doing psych pop in an idiosyncratically unique way, something that any scene, and especially a scene as crowded as this one, desperately needs.

Although Wale's got so much to say, he often says it over the same tempo, and if it weren't for "The Girls on Drugs" (rescued from another Seinfeld-themed mixtape, Festivus) and a couple other kicking moments, the musical spectrum here would be narrow. Still, it's a minor complaint as The Album About Nothing is bigger, bolder, and better than expected.

It's the group's most lived in and emotionally authentic sounding release to date; it certainly doesn't fiddle too much with the formula, but that's hardly a negative.

This is a confident, refined return--a necessary one in a field starving for group harmony singing. It's as solid as a reasonable longtime fan could expect.

It's perched at a point between the past and the present, protest and satire, and that inscrutability is often where Rundgren does interesting work.

More atmospheric than their regional contemporaries Baroness, but just as keen on opening up the blast furnace doors when an exclamation point is needed, Royal Thunder spend much of Crooked Doors skillfully dancing around the almighty power ballad (the Nazareth radio standard mentioned earlier looms large throughout), but not truly succumbing until the very end.

There are no big surprises here; fans of Lonesome Dreams will surely be pleased, and Strange Trails' serene ambience and unconventional narrative may capture the imagination of inclined first-timers.

As pleasant as the album is, this time it feels like Calexico are just passing through.

Though it's a stretch to call it a happy album (from an artist who routinely pondered the dark side of his life), it's full of charm, wit, and guarded optimism as Rouse tells us a bit about his demons with an honesty that suggests some, if not all, of them are in his rear view mirror. If only therapy was this effective and entertaining for everyone.

With Infinite House, Ava Luna don't narrow their ambitious scope of sound, but manage to rein in the rapid-fire impulses that made earlier albums harder to swallow.

The album is a bit too pretty and polished for its own good, with the kind of approach that fades into the background at times, but there's no arguing the quality and thoughtfulness that Calder put into this work, and if you like the notion of indie pop as ambient music, then this may be just the album you've been looking for.

While there's no clear mission statement or overarching theme to the album, the group's collective energy is exciting and propulsive throughout, sounding very much like a group of close friends ecstatically pushing each other into uncharted musical territory.

With Damogen Furies, the results of his strange ways lead to moments of slack-jawed befuddlement as much as awestruck astonishment.

Returning customers who like Tyler the ringleader, or Tyler the producer, will find this to be too much of a good thing, and can embrace the free-form Cherry Bomb as another freaky trip worth taking.

Untethered Moon is the usual strong Built to Spill effort.

Portico still holds appeal for ambient music fans and those who embrace the fringe, along with Portico Quartet regulars who might find this trio's temperament a bit different, but the musical textures will be familiar.

At times, Lucid Dreaming can get a little too hazy and downbeat for its own good, but as a portrait of a duo in motion, it suggests Say Lou Lou are heading in the right direction.

Throughout This World Is Not Enough, Rønnenfelt plays with rawness and sophistication and gets to have both on his own terms. In its own way, its uncompromising, jolie laide mood makes it one of his most truly punk projects, and a cult classic in the making.

Era of Manifestations is fine stuff for listeners who appreciate a challenge rather than a passive experience, and it's a must for those who enjoy Oneida's sonic experimentation.

As they navigate these darker emotional waters, it's hard not to wonder what Hemming and his crew would sound like if they loosened their collars just a bit.

The album, though brief, is not only better than it had any right to be, but is close to perfect. Can't wait for the next one.

Fast Moving Clouds is superb smart pop for a lazy afternoon; it's also an impressive first salvo from Sarah Bethe Nelson, who as both a vocalist and a songwriter confirms she's an artist to watch.

Producers Wheezy and London on da Track handle most the beats on this freaky and fantastic release.

The EP is a startling introduction to a group unafraid to bring raging paranoia to the dancefloor.

From the lonesome drift of the melodies and the brilliantly rendered dynamics of the performances to the uncluttered detail of the production (by engineer Justin Shane Nace in collaboration with the group), this is a splendid mood piece that excels in concept and execution.

MG is an intriguing diversion that might appeal to Depeche Mode fans who were put off by the pure, minimalist techno of VCMG, and it could also come as a surprise to listeners who aren't DM fans, or haven't kept up with their later work.

More fine than fierce, Fly International Luxurious Art may not be on the man's top shelf, but it's a sturdy and entertaining effort well worth its place in the Chef's catalog.

The stylistic range of Jekyll + Hyde proves that ZBB's reach is almost limitless, and this set will more than likely delight the group's legions of fans.

The album cools down with ambient interlude "Miyajima" and midtempo closer "The Waiting," providing a patient ending to an album that gracefully deals with personal upset and disappointment.

Despite these small tweaks to his established, well-oiled formula, Hypnophobia feels like a natural follow-up to Cabinet, with Gardner not looking to do much of anything new.

The band is undeniably tight and flush with ideas, and Hale is such a force of nature that the occasional foray into AOR snooze-ville can be forgiven.

Despite its many head-bobbing moments, Danger in the Club feels more like two EPs--one that builds on 180's exuberance and one that explores new territory--than a consistent album.

Heirs demonstrates a band that can be articulate without speaking in words, and And So I Watch You from Afar are a smart, inventive group who continue to progress with each visit to the recording studio.

Those who go along with her for the ride will likely connect strongly; Sprinter is not for passive listening.

I Can't Imagine is confident, assured, and fiercely independent.

In the end, Love Songs for Robots is well represented by its title: weird, heartfelt, haunting, stimulating, and unexpectedly sultry; it holds much for humans to appreciate, too.

This more polished and tuneful exercise in modern-day folk-rock is effective and engaging music that speaks from the heart and soul.

Good as his bandmates are, on Can't Forget, Cohen is the star, and he's as strong, as witty, and as willing to lay himself emotionally bare as ever; it's anyone's guess how much longer he intends to keep going, but there's nothing here to suggest he needs or wants to quit now.

They don't appear to be aiming for a masterpiece; instead, they wanted to write some good songs and let them shine in the studio, and on that level, The Traveling Kind is a rousing success and a deeply satisfying work.

As convincing as Welcome Back to Milk's fury is, Du Blonde's rock is no more straightforward than Houghton's version of folk was.

Multi-Love is definitely a departure from his previous work, but he has both the skill and the passion to pull it off. Ironically, where the album stumbles a bit is on the more experimental tracks.

Banditos are one of the most promising roots music discoveries in quite some time, and this album is a genuinely impressive introduction.

Most of the songs on The Traveler pass muster, and a few are excellent, but it's Miller's interaction with Black Prairie that really makes the album work.

Any Prurient release is a demanding listen, but Frozen Niagara Falls is one of his most surprising and rewarding works.

Heydays is a surprisingly mature, accomplished second effort from a group who previously might have been perceived as a joky side project.

Despite being a bit of a downer for some, these qualities and the improvisatory feel of the guitar work as their songs unfold (however well-rehearsed in reality) may well induce engaged and repeat listening, even for the sanguine.

Power in the Blood's stylistic adventure and restless aesthetic spirit are indeed Sainte-Marie's hallmarks. But on their own, musical and sonic diversity do not a fine album make. It takes good songs and inspired performances to balance the equation, and this album has them all.

Odd that "Beautiful Now" goes from horny ("I see what you're wearing/There's nothing beneath it") to Maroon 5-esque (the cloying "ba, ba, ba-ba, bah!" chorus), but otherwise the slick and skillful True Colors is built for fans of Zedd's music rather than his social media followers.

These are candied sonic fantasias, passionate re-creations of the past with no reverence for history, and that divine, stubborn nostalgia fuels English Graffiti, turning it into the Vaccines' best record.

Highlights is a step forward for the band and with a bit of patience, its personality begins to show.

Neither particularly sad nor happy, Oh Man, Cover the Ground has a sort of ramshackle, neo-folk nonchalance that might not make much of an impact unless you're willing to slow down with it and enjoy it for the contemplative mood piece it is.

There's a lot of very real talent on display here, and it's fortunate that she's been captured for the ages while she's still fresh and her voice remains unique and very much her own.

Starfire certainly isn't as game-changing as LPs like Agharta and Pangaea, the mood and spirit is that of Miles in the '70s, but with the mechanically precise rhythms one would expect from a group born in the era of acid jazz.

Sonically, Explains is breezy, effortless, and warm as a Pacific Ocean sunset, and its laid-back vibe helps tame some of Field's more manic, pop culture-laden diatribes like "Light Brang" and "Where."

What they lack in adolescent kick they more than compensate with savvy, smarts, and muscle, sounding like passionate survivors who are happy to fight for what they love in an era that takes such spirit for granted.

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard have never been known for being concise or streamlined, but they show on Quarters that blowing out (more than usual) their sounds and elongating their songs to extremes works really well for them.

This absurdly overstuffed synthesis is unmistakably Muse's own, so thunderous it drowns out any good intentions the band may have had.

No one's looking to Derulo for advanced stylistic hybrids or deep thoughts. When Everything Is 4 avoids those creative impulses, as it tends to do, it's easily Derulo's most pleasing work.

Often, country memories can get maudlin, but Willie and Merle are filled with good humor here and the pair often strike a delicate balance of fun and sweet melancholy which gives Django and Jimmie a soulful lift.

If it often gets over on mood rather than message, Gibson turns out to be an impressively good mood guy, and the production (by Gibson and Randall Dunn) gets the details right, making Carnation sound like a middle-of-the-night album for a man whose sense of style is matched only by his knack for poor choices.

As a whole, The High Country is satisfying fare that anyone who found SSLYBY's previous works a little too light in texture will certainly want to give a spin.

Currency of Man is a further step away from the lithe, winsome pop-jazz that garnered her notice initially, and it's a welcome one.

Many of the songs are sturdy, constructed to support these grand ambitions, but these individual pieces are not as consequential as the big, big picture

7 (Or 8) is the messy but precise sound of true believers in search of the Crunch that Transcends All, and there are moments where they come impressively close to actually finding it.

Fernandez's engaging, exploratory songcraft and the plush result of all the component sounds should appeal to post-rock-minded folks as well as those who favor artful, low-key intensity to bombast.

Faulty Superheroes sounds like Pollard and his cohorts were aiming to make a solid rock & roll record rather than killing a few days in the studio, and that certainly makes the difference, especially if you're a fan of the man's endless well of melodic invention.

Even though Vieux Loup is markedly different from its predecessors in the Acorn's catalog, it feels like a natural, graceful evolution, and is an elegantly understated, resonant listening experience.

At times, the overall veneer is a shade too clean, suggesting nothing so much as cocktail hour at a classy conference, but the fact that Hucknall and Simply Red choose to celebrate the softer, soulful sounds of the '70s by doubling down on the smoothness does separate them from the legions of neo-soul divas in the new millennium.

Even if My Love Is Cool sacrifices some of Wolf Alice's earlier fury, the album is all the stronger for it.

A record as relaxed as the average James Taylor album but one that's also riskier and richer, the right album for him to make at this date.

The album is all about comfort and steady, forward motion.

This is a distinctive, ambitious record that takes advantage of her natural talents in surprising ways.

She keeps up her end of the bargain, writing a batch of heartfelt songs and delivering them with her always lovely style.

A relatively disjointed assembly of tracks seemingly drawn from working folders labeled like "athletic anthems," "theatrical intros and interludes," "almost pop," "space ballads," and "misc."

It is ultimately successful in how it deals with negativity and frustration, and shows KEN mode displaying grace and maturity with their newly expanded sound.

If the individual message may wind up fading like yesterday's newspapers, the music will keep The Monsanto Years burning bright.

Olympic Mess is a gripping sound odyssey which bewilders and occasionally perturbs.

Weaver and crew focus on the grand gestures, escalating the emotions and tension, spending as much time on the surge as the hook, and even if this tactic means the slower songs on the back half of the record drift, it also means that when the music is meant to be sweeping it often is.

Grand Romantic is a fittingly grandiose, occasionally silly, passionately effusive, and ultimately very catchy album.

Year of the Hare is best recommended to fans who already have a grasp of Fucked Up's more esoteric moments--beginners should try 2011's David Comes to Life or 2014's Glass Boys--but this is still smart, lively, and thoroughly individual music from one of the most free-thinking bands to emerge from the punk rock underground.

If the title suggests a concept that isn't quite there, the music speaks for itself, and what it says is eloquent and deeply pleasing.

You're Going to Make It is convincing proof that Mates of State are far from that less-than-thrilling fate [of playing the oldies circuit].

A bit of a grower, Jaakko Eino Kalevi is a subtly enticing album that establishes his niche within experimental pop.

Cemetery Highrise Slum is a worthy effort with a highly crafted vibe, but Creepoid's personality only shines through some of the time.

In the end, the infamous LP isn't the album of the year, but it isn't an artistic flop either, just a pleasing effort from a punchline-dealing party gangsta who knows the power of a good hook.

Everybody Is Going to Heaven is a bold statement full of creative ideas, but it's not without its growing pains.

A surprising amount of funky electro helps separate this groovemaster from the competition.

Vulnerable, seductive, and expansive, Inji is a promising reintroduction to Eastgate's music that honors his past while moving forward.

When Koze finally gets around to mixing in some house tracks, they're midtempo and bittersweet rather than high-energy floor fillers, and uniformly excellent, particularly Frank & Tony's sublime "Bring the Sun. One wonders how astonishing the mix would be if it had consisted entirely of tracks like this, but the variety is refreshing, and Koze's adventurous spirit is always admirable.