Rare Birds is dizzying in ambition and (mostly) dazzling in execution. It offers hours of enjoyment to anyone who takes it on.

The collection ultimately ends up feeling like a tribute as well as a remix album, serving to highlight Sakamoto's considerable influence on generations of forward-thinking electronic musicians.

Ultimately, the forte passages don't encroach on the songwriting, as they underline emotion, but they do, at times, step on Dacus' voice, when she's clouded by high-volume accompaniment or even vocal processing. Thankfully, those moments are brief and rare, allowing her lyrics and expressive sense of melody to shine.

American Utopia is an album of beautiful and witty surfaces stretched over a sea of troubled waters, and if Byrne is rarely inclined to give direct answers to the questions he asks, it's obvious this isn't a joke, it's an ambitious work from an important American artist.

At times, he can push his influences a little hard--"Hey Mama" is essentially a mash note to Van Morrison--but the impressive thing about Tearing at the Seams is how he and his band seem to be synthesizing their clear influences into their own voice. That's why Tearing at the Seams works.

Given its experimental origins, Mr. Dynamite is a little scattered, but Creep Show's sophisticated mischief is so entertaining that it's a pleasure to hear each unexpected turn they take.

While Meloy's lyrics are sharply honed and evocative, it's this cavalcade of sounds that not only makes I'll Be Your Girl compelling, but distinctive among Decemberists albums.

Taken together, White Is Relic/Irrealis Mood offers convoluted yet catchy dance-rock that lures with flamboyant basslines while capturing a dancing-while-anxious Zeitgeist.

While a bit uneven in spots, Both Sides of the Sky is well worth it for an avid Hendrix fan.

Automata I is excellent on its own; its writing, production, and performances are all top flight. Additionally, it whets the appetite of anticipation for part two.

Riddles is easily his grandest work yet.

There's a Riot Going On is, in its own subtle way, Yo La Tengo at their most uncompromised; it's an album that's likely to separate their most hardcore fans from more casual admirers, though if you loved "Night Falls on Hoboken" from And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out, you'll likely savor it.

"Corporation" and "Ice Station Zebra," the two funkiest numbers here, illustrate this with their precise grooves, but even the self-consciously weird interludes show this same level of exactitude. While that keeps Boarding House Reach somewhat in a straitjacket, it also makes it a fascinating listen, because it's a document of a control freak anxious to get loose.

Best of all is "Sleeprydr," where they contrast the song's drowsy verses with a guitar maelstrom that feels like it's been brewing for the entire album. While Slow Sundown could use a few more epic moments like this, there's a lot to be said for its sleepy allure--it's hard to resist sinking into these songs.

The set's predominantly reflective mood and nuanced composites of jazz, soul, and hip-hop make it sound like an extension of Glasper's Black Radio Recovered, Everything's Beautiful, and reinterpretation of Kendrick Lamar's "I'm Dying of Thirst" as much as the trio's meetings on Black America Again.

New Path is perhaps the most challenging release yet from the already confrontational duo, and while it's not as accessible as Demain, it's still rewarding and often exciting.

This 2018 album shows they haven't lost their knack for hooky-heavy hard rock that wedges its way into the subconscious. The album can't be called a comeback--the group were toiling away during the 2010s, after all--but it certainly opens the door on another act in their career, one that is sonically tied to their past but feels brighter (and more relaxed) than their first chapters.

Overall, Chemistry Lessons is more in line with Carter's late-'90s solo albums or his expansive soundscapes as part of CTI than the aggressive experimentation of Throbbing Gristle or darkwave synth pop of Chris & Cosey, but it maintains a distinct character and immediacy which set it apart.

His ideas are expressed in a far more succinct manner, but they offer similarly powerful commentary, and the album's starkness works to its advantage, driving the tracks' points so they hit home.

It's hard to say if Sallee gets a lot out of a little or intentionally little out of a lot here, but the album is at once rich, restrained, and beguiling.

What keeps Longwave's distinct improvisational character upright in the rocking chair, lost in thought instead of asleep like the cat, is a gentle melodicism and an impressionistic bent that's as pretty as it is simple. Part of that design is subtle organ, piano, slide guitar, and effects that fill in some of the space around lead guitars in broad strokes.

Castles exists in a bit of a netherworld--it's commercial yet idiosyncratic, classic in its structure yet contemporary in its sound-but that's also it's a quietly compelling record, revealing an artist who is starting to hit her stride.

Her every-few-years release schedule was maintained with this short album, in which she responds to a habitually philandering lover with her distinctive mix of fire and finesse. This has more of the former element than any previous Braxton release.

It's a knowing, melodramatic Southern fantasia, where the pleasure comes from how every element--from the lyrics through the performances--is exaggerated, turning this into fetchingly surreal Americana.

Ultimately, No Mercy in This Land is solid if not (quite) as strong as Get Up! That said, it is more diverse, immediate, and instinctive, making it a worthy listen, and provides further evidence that this pair should work together more often.

Fortunately, Goat Girl's singles offer a more pulled-together version of the band's bracing sound, whether it's the wry jangle of "Cracker Drool," the hip-shaking sass of "The Man," or the sexy, sneering defiance of "Country Sleaze." Moments like these are so compelling that they suggest Goat Girl are just beginning to tap into their potential on this exciting debut.

Listeners put off by Nash's cheekiness in the past may find her more relatable here, or at least more compelling, though Yesterday Was Forever still refuses to pander.

E's gifts as a songwriter and vocalist are still sharp, and if you've ever been partial to Mark Everett's slightly skewed but engagingly literate outlook on the world, then The Deconstruction should meet with your approval.

This seamless blend of aesthetics is also why Resistance Is Futile works musically. First, it comes on strong-all sharp edges and gleam-but once the blare fades, the melodies and their accompanying sweetness lingers, leaving a lasting impression behind.

Skits like "Close Talker" draw out a conflict between Czarface and Doom, but the former seems to be a bit more aggressive--Doom doesn't really seem to fight back, he's just doing his thing, talking sharp and candid like always. In any case, the album is still a whole lot of fun, and shouldn't disappoint fans of either act.

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.

Johnny Cash: Forever Words has some brilliant moments and is an often-moving tribute to Cash's gifts as a writer, but as a listening experience, it's unfortunately inconsistent. Maybe some of this was better left on paper.

Hardly a late-career masterpiece, Evil Spirits at least shows that the Damned are still smart and witty while paying attention to the global chaos of the era of Brexit and Trump, and they haven't lost their touch in the recording studio.

Dark, dangerous, and addictive, Nihilistic Glamour Shots is a strong opening statement from Cabbage, jolting listeners with sly humor, anti-establishment sneer, and enough sonic variation to hypnotize and invigorate.

Kinetic and heartfelt, Beautiful Thing lives up to its name and delivers some of Taylor's finest solo music yet.

She and her team of musicians, writers and producers straddle the line between twang and glitter on just about every song; sometimes it leans more in favor of line dancing, sometimes the glitter ball takes over, especially on the shimmering "Raining Glitter.". Sometimes, like on "Live A Little" or the very hooky single "Dancing," it's the best of both worlds.

The overall tone of Sister Cities is intense and, at times, comes across as unrelentingly dour. Still, the Wonder Years' maturation from suburban pop punk ennui to (literal) world-weary emo desperation feels like a logical progression, and it's hard to fault them for tackling bigger subjects.

Moosebumps tries so hard to replicate the debut that it ends up sounding a bit formulaic, even with an expanded budget and a wider sonic scope. It's still an impressive effort, and worth checking out if you're already a fan, but newcomers absolutely need to hear the original first.

For the most part, the album sounds bright and energetic rather than dark and gloomy, but there's still an undercurrent of sadness to some of the lyrics, such as the heartbroken lament "Gold Star." Even still, this doesn't detract from the ecstatic spirit of the album, which is refreshingly creative and unpredictable.

Significantly less danceable than some of the artist's other albums, the album simultaneously feels more introverted and more expansive.

Like Hermits on Holiday, it's first-rate experimental rock made by two musicians with interesting, complicated ideas and the skills to bring them to life.

The album covers a lot of ground, switching between abstract interpretations of plush soul to dark, nervy club music from track to track, and the group maintains its focus throughout, resulting in a rich, engrossing experience.

Like so many records of 2018, it is clearly cut together on computer, with dense rhythms competing with smooth surfaces--but also not chasing pop trends. Instead, it's a mature modern album, one filled with questions but also curiously settled, a combination that makes World's Strongest Man more rewarding with each listen.

Sonder is a logical next step for TesseracT, one that stands on par with anything they've previously released, yet evidences more authority, musical restlessness, and sonic multi-dimensionality than anything in their previous catalog.

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.

Nostalgic Butthole Surfers fans will find plenty to like on Pinkus Abortion Technician, but they're hardly the only ones.

Personne d'Autre finds Hardy in full command of her authority as a songwriter and, despite her voice's wear and tear, the full weight and charm of her signature as a singer. If this is indeed her final recording, it's one she can be proud of and one for fans to celebrate.

As the value of Cole's witticisms, and the intellect required to decrypt full meaning of his verses, continues to be debated, the increased strength in his clear-cut writing evinces promise of greater work ahead.

Similar to her previous works, composer Christina Vantzou's fourth solo album blends orchestral and electronic instruments as well as unearthly voices, resulting in slow-moving, calmly introspective soundscapes.

Among Ras G's more contemplative releases, Stargate Music is a woozy, enticing interpretation of the human life cycle.

As her first official salvo into the pop arena, Speak Your Mind hints at an enticing amount of potential for Anne-Marie and her engaging vocals.

It has a similarly big-screen and disparate, primarily beat-less approach to ambient music [as 2016's Under The Sun]. Each track evokes a distinct scene.

Throughout, very human lyrics, wistful intervals, a mechanical palette, and components that are sometimes altered to confuse organic and inorganic make for an elegant synth art-pop. Like the world her lyrics inhabit, it is icy and intimate at once.

One might reasonably expect that a more mature edition of Belly would seem less fiery than what they delivered back in the day, and the craft of this album is all one could hope for, but there's a bit too much drift and not enough clear focus for Dove to qualify as a true return to form.

Turner nails the concept, wallowing in warped dreams and painting widescreen soundscapes, but the foundation is wobbly; at a glance, it's impressive, but the slipshod details reveal themselves upon close inspection.

If Shakey Graves sometimes seems to overplay his arty hand, pushing the record toward the brink of murk, it's the price of ambition and there is much here to admire.

While Middle Kids showed plenty of promise on their 2017 debut EP, Lost Friends is where they show they can make a proper album and actually improve on their bag of musical tricks, and it's a strong and engaging work.

The album's pace slows down a bit in the second half, making it seem a bit front-loaded, but the swagger and tuneful songwriting that hooked fans in the first place remain in full effect here.

Those who are open to hearing the band take on a variety of styles and bend them to their will should be very happy with Wide Awake! Those who want the band to crank out an album of just bitter, bopping punk may have to wait until next time.

There's nothing fashionable about the Sea and Cake's music, and therein lies much of their charm.

All eight compositions do a fine job of painting audio portraits of locations one might remember from childhood, with each maintaining a distinct character, but also resembling background scenery. Recommended for fans of Robin Guthrie's solo albums who are in the mood for something just a little bit less hazy or drowsy.

This album is smart fun from a band that actually makes something fresh out of the sounds of the past, and as long as La Luz keep doing that, they'll be worth hearing.

Mark Kozelek is as long and rambling as one would expect from the singer/songwriter, but his mixture of poignancy, humanity, and levity continues to make his music worth hearing.

At 13 tracks, Let's Make Love drags just a little, especially in its first quarter, but as a whole, it's a welcome comeback from an enduringly creative act.

The melodies are engaging, and the turns of phrase are typically sardonic, with song highlights arriving via the breezy but narratively decadent "Everybody's Coming Together for the Summer" and the winking opener, "Angry Man on a Small Train." It's also nearly impenetrable for anyone outside of the U.K., as it's immeasurably steeped in the region's culture and vernacular.

Success may have almost spoiled Puth, but it fueled his upward creative swing.

It's an aural lava lamp, kicking up slow-bursting explosions of texture and sound.

The most impressive thing about Love is Dead might be that as big as its sound gets, Chvrches never lose touch with the humanity that's at the core of their music.

Like its predecessor, the album revels in the dark and danceable timbres of English, German, and American clubs circa Joy Division, Suicide, early Cabaret Voltaire, et al.

Their playing is energetic and in good spirits, and most importantly, their positivity never sounds forced or unnatural. They're not acting like clowns and forcing anyone to smile, and they never sound too eager to please. They're simply having a good time and making relaxed, not-too-heavy boogie rock fit for a summer gathering or a road trip through the desert.

If Tomorrow's Daughter isn't a great Matthew Sweet album, it's most certainly a good one, featuring a batch of strong songs played with genuine skill and commitment by one of the most distinctive artists in contemporary power pop. If you liked Tomorrow Forever, you'll enjoy the sequel, and even if you missed the first installment, this is well worth a spin for pop obsessives.

Argonauta is, by the nature of its inspiration, a brooding work, but it's also a comfort, providing a place to sit amongst warm tones, elegant harmonies, and pensive understanding.

While challenging, the album seems to symbolize a struggle to achieve balance and harmony, and the results are frequently exciting.

Emotionally effective but quite different from anything he's done prior, it's an endearing, rewarding peek into Davis' interests outside of his day job.

It doubles down on his distinctively mellow, '60s- and '70s-vintage sound. This time around, after demoing the songs with a four-track tape machine, he borrowed an eight-track reel-to-reel recorder to capture the official takes with his band.

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.

No Shame isn't a soundtrack to party. It's music for reflection, and coming from an artist who made snark her specialty, that's a step forward.

Flasher appear to have arrived fully formed, with a deeply satisfying debut that's both coherent and imaginative.

While not as immediately appealing as his prior releases, Nothing Is Still is clearly designed to be appreciated through multiple listens, and it's ultimately a work of considerable depth and feeling.

It's heartfelt and gutsy, performed without flash but with steely spirit, feelings that elevate Blow Your Mind above many of the other records in Johnson's solo discography.

Shannon in Nashville demonstrates she's capable of more than she's shown us in the past, and this is an experiment that succeeds with flying colors.

The greater flaw of Liberation is how its blend of R&B reflection and tense testifying doesn't seem to be an easy fit on any format in 2018. This weakness is also a strength, as it shows that Aguilera didn't take an easy route with Liberation: she instead found a hybrid between the personal and commercial, which makes the record resonate emotionally no matter what success it may or may not have.

The truth is this sounds less like a 50/50 collaboration than a Joseph Arthur album with Peter Buck pitching in. Which is not at all bad, of course; as usual, Arthur's lyrics are bold, clever, and incisive, his vocals are passionate and reveal just the right amount of drama, and the melodies are strong, with Buck adding an extra spoonful of melodic bounce.

Acutely personal--almost to the point of discomfort--and exceedingly fragile, Seedlings All somehow manages to remain resilient, which is a tough balance to pull off.

Mien's experiments are sometimes a little too formless, but the album's standouts prove they weren't keeping all their best ideas for their main bands.

The Dock of the Bay Sessions is hardly essential for loyal Otis Redding fans, but as a compact summation of his final recordings, it's a fine collection that flows with the coherence of a "real" LP, and if you're looking for an album with "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay," this is a good way to go.

With the fountain of material springing out of Newcombe's Berlin studio in the first part of the 2010s, the quality level has been rather hit or miss, but Something Else is a solid effort and somewhat of a return to form for the veteran band.

While it's unlikely that Bird Dog Dante will win him many new fans, its curious, intimate, casual approach will certainly appeal to those who have embraced Parish's earlier--and no less idiosyncratic--recordings.

Girls Names do a very good job of keeping the drama, intensity, and twisted emotion in place while taking the music into darker, odder realms. It's pretty far from the poppy place the band started at, but their journey remains one that is very much worth following.

Whether it's the dawning of a new age of retro-looking records or a one-off blast from the past, Kicker is a welcome return and a raucous homecoming for a once great band that still has something left in the tank.

There are not a lot of bands who do what Protomartyr does, and even if there were, the skill and fury of their music would still set them apart, and Consolation is a brief but potent reminder that they're a force to be reckoned with.

While some of his eccentricities can seem affected. Perhaps these stumbles are the side effect of an artist dedicated to capturing all the mess of the modern world, and even if there are moments that grate or confound, there's still something invigorating about an artist who refuses to sit still.

The rebooted Immersion sounds far more engaging than the project's original incarnation, which had a tendency to meander, and Sleepless is certainly one of its best efforts.

As the band looks back upon three decades of pain and rage, Reznor and Ross leave the sonic bread crumbs and callback allusions to the first two installments, advancing with fresh and surprising new possibilities for the coming era of Nine Inch Nails.

No Sounds ends up seeming a bit scattered, even by the Orb's standards, but it's still plenty enjoyable, and enough to distract you from the nightmarish absurdity of current events.

As unconventional as it is relaxing, Zebra is perhaps Arp's most inviting sound-world yet.

Perhaps this doesn't make for a listen that's as wild or adventurous as its companion, but it's ultimately more satisfying, as the internal journey mirrors the evolution of the pop landscape in the 21st century. What was once a rowdy, colorful party is now a soundtrack for bittersweet solitude.

Deeper cuts like "Voices at the Window," "Floating on Water," and the ethereal closer "You Ought to Know" deal in more abstract vistas, delivering different hues culled from the same retro spectrum, resulting in something that has more in common with the spacy, neo-psych-rock emissions of the Flaming Lips than it does crusty ethno-doom metal.