The record's hazy harmonies and sauntering pace provide a cozy sanctuary for daydreams that may not lead to happy outcomes but feel good while they last.

It's a very promising debut that definitely positions Vagabon as one to watch in the future.

Uyai is a fine, boundary-pushing follow-up to an arresting debut.

While Impressions does seem a little weighed down, it's really a document of their struggle, making their second attempt to leave the runway somewhat relatable; inevitably, it's hard not to root for them as they spread their wings independently.

Like a yodeling Lana Del Rey, the affected vocal presentation is bound to annoy some, but for others her delivery, along with the album's brooding tone and poetic essence, will make fast fans.

While their last album, The Way Things Fall, was some of their poppiest music yet, their Mute debut, Detroit House Guests, sounds more like a gallery installation than a set of danceable tracks.

Throughout the record, Sheeran seems assured in his smooth schtick, and that cheesy confidence, combined with the hints of new style, help make Divide his easiest album to enjoy.

There's a bit more pure pop intention to be found on Voids, but it retains the left-field charm that made them one of the more captivating acts to watch amidst the alt-to-indie rock shift that dominated the late '90s and early 2000s.

With Sensorimotor, Lusine takes another evolutionary step forward, seeming strangely natural in his skin of manipulation.

Sprout either can't or won't produce songs at the same pace as Robert Pollard, but what he does bring us is consistently pleasurable, and The Universe and Me is a lovely reminder of how many good things he brought to GbV--and how much he still has to offer on his own.

It's a daring album, and in its best moments, the listener gets a sense of how fulfilling and soul-cleansing its production must have been.

The album feels intimate and delicate without sounding rustic. The album always maintains an undercurrent of fear or despondency, but it never gets too overbearing, and stays intriguing throughout.

Wild Cat is a wild ride from one of the best hard rock bands treading the boards today, and it's a fine introduction to their high-octane style and certain to please loyal fans.

The album is intriguing and accessible, yet just strange enough to stand out among all the other experimental electronic artists mining the early new age era for inspiration.

A hard sell that pays off with a lasting impression.

I'm Only Dreaming's brightest highlight is "A Song for the Birds," a bright guitar pop song featuring DuPree-Bemis' husband, Say Anything's Max Bemis, that feels like a sequel to their previous collaboration, Perma. Moments like this suggest that this incarnation of Eisley sound best when they're creating new traditions instead of holding onto old ones too tightly.

Tonally falling somewhere between Joy, Departed and It Kindly Stopped for Me, the album's blunt confessionalism doesn't always make for an inviting world, but is nothing if not completely honest.

Paradise suggests it may be a very long time before Anohni gives us another album like I Am a Bird Now (if she ever does), but the strength and vision of this EP offers the promise that she may soon offer us something similarly powerful and moving in her new musical frameworks.

They continue to show that rare talent here and, ten years into their recording career, that's something they can point to with pride.

There are a few other bands treading this same sonic path (Omni being the best around), but with Offers, NE-HI show they have what it takes to compete.

Throughout its just-over-30-minute runtime--very punk--Graffin and company take on everything from gospel, Americana, and bluegrass to Crazy Horse-esque pre-grunge and breezy Laurel Canyon country-pop, and that they do so with such gusto makes Millport feel like less of an outlier, and more like guys making the best of a power outage.

Owens' album seems a bit scattered and all over the place, but its sense of dream logic is intriguing, and its best moments are captivating.

Stace still has the lyrical facility and way with a melody that made Harding a potential Next Big Thing in the '90s, while also gaining some seasoning that shows he's not simply chasing past glories.

In order to be true to themselves, Mastodon had to make Emperor of Sand at this time. There was no other option. As such, its urgency, sophistication, and emotional heft make it a necessary entry in their catalog.

The Far Field isn't a failure or a misstep, since there are so many good songs and their basic sound is still so strong. It's a shame that the band and Congleton felt the need to pretty things up, to make them sound more sophisticated and domesticated. It means that despite Herring's bravura performance, the album feels like a watered-down and lesser version of Singles.

Boman and Talabot seem to have enjoyed themselves coming up with these gritty, off-the-cuff tracks, and The Night Land is easily enjoyable without being too safe or conventional.

While longtime fans may sense the absence of Bobuck in certain spots, it's a Residents album through and through, with all the atmosphere and Residential perspective one could ask for.

Concrete Desert is far from relaxing, but chances are you already gathered that. While it is effective, at nearly 70 minutes, it's better digested in small doses to better distinguish the multiplicity of textural, dynamic, and sonic strategies at work in individual pieces.

Time will tell if the overall poppier disposition is a determined shift or a diversion, but, alongside the album's dark humor and utter lack of stagnation, it's one she handles with skill.

The majority of the verses are, however, devoted to street survivalism. The more combative, the better.

There's some solid world-building going on here, but not a ton of innovation.

As grim and hopeless as the album may seem, it's ultimately about escaping day-to-day reality and entering a state of transcendence. It's startling and uncomfortable, but it's highly compelling.

Overall, Star Stuff is an enjoyable exercise in semi-constructed jamming and vintage-sounding tones by a trio of skilled musicians, and continues Bundick's evolution toward a more analog texture and approach.

Boss Hog don't kick as hard as they once did, but what they've lost in muscle they've certainly made up for in terms of atmosphere and creativity in the studio, and Brood X is worth a spin for anyone who digs their grimy glory -- especially since it's hard to guess when we might hear from them again.

There are few bands who play classic disco-funk with as much genuine love for the genre and care in the productions as Kay and Jamiroquai. Ultimately, it's that sense of love and good vibes that drives much of Automaton.

What gives The Ride its personality how these hooks bend through Congleton's production and Furtado's subdued delivery, shifting this mainstream pop just into a fringe where this singer/songwriter now seems happy to be.

Bloodlust may be pugilistic to a fault, but whatever it lacks in poeticism it more than makes up for in raw power.

Despite its flashy sounds, it's one of the group's most insular sets of songs. Nevertheless, Kirk and company express how the past can poison the present and days yet to come in ways that are uniquely theirs.

Samurai is easily Joakim's subtlest album yet, and it's easy to see why it's such a personal, sentimental statement for him.

Under the Pines is emotionally heavy, and its best moments manage to find warmth and comfort in crippling depression.

It's a Myth is a stripped-down indie rock/hip-hop hybrid that says plenty and makes its own cool, low-key fun at the same time.

Ultimately, while the album may not hit with the rockabilly wallop that marked the best of her previous work, Life. Love. Flesh. Blood is nonetheless a sophisticated and gorgeously rendered album.

Representing the more countrified side of things, lead single "Imogene" and the warmly sentimental "The Vow" show some of Branan's other sides on this diverse and well-crafted collection.

On the whole, L.A. Divine is a little less consistent than Hold My Home; the band's relentless intensity can get a bit exhausting, while the interludes sprinkled throughout the album feel more distracting than transporting.

On The World's Best American Band, White Reaper knock it out of the park, drive over it in a noisy Mustang, and deliver nothing but a good time.

Once the sweetly hazy vibe dissipates, the songs reveal their sturdy structures, and they're the reason why Tenderheart rewards repeated listens.

At 17 songs, it's inevitable that not every track will appeal to every listener.

Even if Goddard is occasionally too reverent on Electric Lines, his love of electronic music--and the way it brings people together--is undeniable and infectious.

If you're in the market for an album that will summon the dark atmospheres, Death Song certainly delivers the goods, and it demonstrates that the Black Angels slowly but surely improve each time they go into the studio.

Thanks to the sincerity and strong melodies that have been Maximo Park's mainstays since the beginning, Risk to Exist combines good intentions with good music.

Love Is Love is a thought-provoking, intensely felt album, full of all the warmth, frustration, and alternating bouts of despair and hope that half (or more) of the United States felt at the time the record was recorded.

With The French Press, Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever have made the jump from small indie to big indie with style and grace, and if they can bring the same level of skill to a full-length album, they'll be all but unstoppable.

Guppy may be just the ticket for those looking for a reprieve from the ubiquitous gloss of electro-pop, and they can have it without sacrificing catchiness or sunny vibrations.

Mandela Effect is certainly more varied than Callus (which, like all Gonjasufi releases, is a heady mix of styles itself), and while it isn't exactly lighter or more listener-friendly, it often seems to get its messages across in more intriguing ways.

Novum is far better than anyone had any right to expect: It's energetic, hungry, and swaggering. That said, it retains the trademark class and musical sophistication that makes Procol Harum iconic.

Another fine addition to his solo work, Rock N Roll Consciousness proves that Moore's search for enlightenment through noise remains vital.

Still trippy and shambolic, The Weather carries an epic, sometimes otherworldly luster, with a synth-poppy psychedelia that takes a half step out of deep fuzz toward ELO.

While it's true that some of their pseudo-"prog" power is lost without Madsen's riffs, Mew's delivery is no less effective. Their ever-morphing vision has simply moved beyond terrestrial bonds and ascended into the expanse of the galaxy.

Abysma is an intriguing development in Wiesenfeld's sound, and easily the most cohesive Geotic release to date.

While Sad Clowns & Hillbillies is a bit of a mixed bag, it's better than all of his other records that bear that mark (Dance Naked, Whenever We Wanted, Rough Harvest, et. al). It puts all his strengths--excellent original songs, unforced arrangements, and (mostly) inspired performances--on full display.

It's Dulli's band, and what he's delivered here honestly satisfies.

Slowdive may not be a dramatic return that will blow people away; it's far too peaceful and calm for that. It will comfort fans of the band, both those who loved them at the time and those who have discovered them in the intervening years, by being very much a Slowdive album. One that feels modern enough, but also very classic at the same time.

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.

For diehards who have grown with the band over the decades, this softer and more buoyant sound should be a welcome maturation.

While there is plenty of good stuff going on, there is a little too much conservative playing and a little too much left-field oddness for the record to truly hold together. Occult Architecture, Vol. 2 is preferable to the first volume, but it pales next to the band's next work.

Fascinating stuff for hardcore fans, but for most other listeners, the first half of the album is more likely to be played more than once.

The album itself lingers in the mind as a perfect pick for when something is needed to soothe an uneasy soul or make a crappy day a little more palatable.

As with many of the album's highlights, the song is an aggressive blast of post-punk that never sticks to the same tempo and ends quickly (in this case, in under a minute and a half). Other songs on the album are a bit more brooding, even tipping toward goth.

While it's stylistically no great departure from his earlier output, it feels like the logical next destination on his journey.

Graveyard Shift is a highly enjoyable and entertaining continuation for a band that knowingly winks along with the madness they concoct.

The last thing PWR BTTM are ready to do is mope; instead they've chosen to create a record that feels defiantly optimistic and celebratory.

A Kind Revolution nevertheless feels cozy, a record designed to provide nothing but comfort and that's an unusual twist for Paul Weller.

Krall has a definite vision for Turn Up the Quiet--she wants to keep things smoky and subdued, a record for the wee hours--and the end result is so elegant, it seems effortless.

There's a very singular character to Girlpool's music, and it's a pleasure to be able to dip into the remarkable world they have created.

Occasionally, Genders' musical adaptations verge on becoming overly fussy, but for the most part, the contributions of each partner are pleasantly transformed by this strange affair.

With II, L.A. Takedown have constructed a somewhat chilled but still frequently exciting vision of Los Angeles, rooted in the '80s but letting other eras and locales seep in.

This is one pleasant and pleasing surprise.

Harry Styles works exceedingly well as a modern pop album and an extension of the One D sound and brand, but as the kind of personal statement Styles wants to make, it comes very close, but ultimately falls just short. More weirdness, less slickness, and a distinct musical vision next time and maybe he'll get there.

While there's no real dance anthem in the bunch, World Be Gone does deliver on vocals and memorable Vince Clarke melodies, as well as on arrangements that add some oomph to slower tempos. At the time of its release, it seems on point.

Overall, Pollie presents a wistful and warm little microcosm that subtly builds on the foundation of his debut.

He glides into even mellower, more sentimental territory here for a set of brazenly unapologetic love songs.

United States of Horror boasts a sleeker and more crystal-cut produced sound palette than Ho99o9’s previous efforts; that’s not to say that the guts, grit, and feral nature of those releases are absent--they're very much here, breathing and festering from start to finish.

Party finds the sweet spot between raw and refined, and in doing so, feels very real.

Through it all, Kasher offers affecting material that's persistently tense but also loose and lively.

Underneath its simmering shimmer Different Days offers spins on classic pop, electronic soul, and late-night chill. Perhaps it's quiet exploration, but the Charlatans embrace the elastic possibilities of new avenues here, and the results are rewarding.

Little Steven may share the same sense of grandeur in his sonics, but he keeps his focus earthbound, and that provides a nice tension to Soulfire: it's big music about everyday things.

Despite all of its sonic busyness, the vast majority of which falls in the category of charming rather than challenging, the album ultimately comes off as a little goofy, fun, and full of promise.

While a long way from perfect, Big Walnuts Yonder is overflowing with great ideas and imaginative execution--enough so that one hopes this foursome heads into the studio again someday, or takes this very special show on the road.

Stop Mute Defeat is a recharge and a reinvention for White Hills, and is, by necessity, their most focused work.

With the possible exception of that improvisation [the final track, "April"], by combining his appreciation of both free jazz and Appalachian folk music, Amidon seems to be creating a traditional folk for the future.

While Resin Pockets might sound a bit lazy and very bummed-out at first, repeated listens reveal how much care was put into the album's construction, and it glows with a resonant beauty.

Growing up is working out well for Chastity Belt, and I Used to Spend So Much Time Alone is clever, satisfying proof.

Clocking in at just under 40 minutes, the album's dizzying stylistic shifts and offbeat arrangements are rendered refreshingly palatable, and even when the band's artistic hubris is drawn front and center, as it is on the aforementioned "Hit Me Like That Snare" and a spectral, almost completely rewritten version of "House of the Rising Sun," there's usually enough craftsmanship on hand to offset the overall air of importance.

Featuring a well-written and compelling history of the label from Sarah Sweeney, Sing It High, Sing It Low is an enjoyable overview of a forgotten chapter in early-'70s country-rock, though this story is compelling enough that the album really should have been longer.

It's enjoyable yet familiar fare, and whether or not Ulrika Spacek bring anything new to the art rock table is certainly debatable, but with Modern English Decoration, they've definitely established themselves as reliable, and occasionally crafty, sonic spellcasters that reward a patient ear.

Abdel-Hamid takes her sound in numerous directions and explores several moods on Distractions, and while it seems scattered enough to live up to its title, it's as engaging as anything else she's released.

If Richard Dawson is Fairport Unconventional, Peasant is his Liege & Lief, a strange but fascinating journey through the frameworks of British folk music as seen by one truly unique set of eyes.

As busy as things get on Modern Pressure, the less kinetic moments are afforded ample time to shine, with some of the LP's strongest bit arriving via breezy, sunset-ready, two-lane highway-worthy jams like "Roya" and "Impossible Green."