The set moves from strength to strength, but honestly, this is to be expected, as they made very few missteps on their first two records. Although this doesn't paint a complete picture, the recording does capture the added layers of dissonance and Talbot's erratic on-stage persona, as he switches from a snarling, sardonic showman to a political advocate to a humble bastion of the people.

The mix superbly demonstrates how the contemporary jazz scene and club culture have cross-pollinated and influenced each other.

While some of the musicians play with the frameworks of Allison's music -- most notably Robbie Fulks' fractured reading of "My Brain" and the electro-processed New Orleans vibe of Iggy Pop's "If You're Going to the City" -- most are content to find a middle ground between their own signature approach and Allison's laid-back but emphatic groove.

The repetition is noticeable but ultimately minor for the box's target audience of dedicated Floyd fans, who will surely appreciate the care given to both the remastering and the packaging. On that level alone, The Later Years is something of a wonder, which means it's certainly worthwhile for those who have the interest and the cash to partake.

Ballet Slippers excels at capturing the conflict that must have existed for Animal Collective after turning in their most successful and adored work. It might be too challenging for the casual listener, but that particular challenge is intrinsic to most of Animal Collective's work.

Brutus sound more focused, more visceral, and more locked in with each other throughout. The songs are heavy and ominous but also tap into a sense of passion and vulnerability. The combination is powerful and sophisticated, and the beast that Brutus is becoming on Nest feels unstoppable.

Michaela Anne's apparent disinterest in the slick, hollow approach of most contemporary country would have identified Desert Dove as something different regardless of the production, but Outlaw and Winrich helped make this into a striking, satisfying collection of songs that confirms Anne's status as one of country's freshest and most interesting new talents.

At times, Please Excuse Me for Being AntiSocial feels like it's trying to offer something for everyone, and it becomes difficult to locate Ricch's personality among the different window dressings. Regardless, it's a strong collection and highlights how Ricch can mold himself into different styles and keep things exciting in almost any stylistic configuration.

The precision may mean 50 Year Trip: Live at Red Rocks lacks spontaneity, but the album does showcase Fogerty at the height of his showmanship. He performed at Red Rocks to entertain the crowd by playing the hits, and what worked in concert works on record, too.

El Dorado might not boast enough shredding for King's usual audience, but if their interest in roots music goes beyond barroom blues into vintage soul, they should find plenty to enjoy here, and he's a more capable vocalist than some would expect, making this worth a spin for listeners who enjoy modern-day soul.

More than its tunes or even its sound design, Boman's wispy voice and heavy-hearted pensiveness are likely to stick with listeners after the album ends.

If Miller hadn't passed, Circles would be an insightful, focused addition to his strong late-era catalog, shining a necessary light on emotional and mental health struggles and sobriety through his deeply reflective lyrics and the wonderfully enjoyable and warm production work by Brion. Instead, it's yet another reminder of lost potential and a life cut tragically short.

It's commendable that the Black Lips are trying to find new things to do after 20 years of balancing order and chaos, but Sing In A World That's Falling Apart isn't the exciting new aberration they need.

Though the closest Godin comes to the excitement of Contrepoint is the jazzy, suite-like finale "Cité Radieuse," Concrete and Glass is still a fine example of his distinctively smooth style.

While Have We Met doesn't sound quite like top-shelf Destroyer, it's a fine testament to Bejar's talent and his gift for having things both ways at once, lyrically droll and musically cool and on point.

When We Stay Alive captures every nuance of Leaneagh's journey with unflinching honesty.

Slow-moving and thoughtful, I Was Born Swimming thrives on its central idea of rootlessness, roving through moments of heartache, joy, wistfulness, and the myriad pangs of melancholy that accompany personal growth. Brimming with personal observations and subtly dynamic performances, Williams offers a strong debut.

For those familiar with Chadwick's previous work, in addition to the lyrics' especially low lows, noteworthy is the album's tunefulness, especially in the case of the soaring piano pop entry "Please Daddy" and reflective "Make Hey." Though there are plenty of her trademark semi-melodic, improvised-sounding tirades as well.

At the album's wildest and dirtiest moments, there's a sense that her heart isn't quite into the revelry. Still, those moments are few and they're overshadowed by the sheer joie de vivre of Kesha feeling the freedom to be so silly she doesn't care if she falls on her face.

Overall, Dwell is a stirring album best enjoyed at home during the middle of winter, when the weather renders venturing outdoors a fool's task.

Green Day are watching the world burn from an air-conditioned dance floor on Father of All.... While the album doesn't deliver their most memorable songs, its wild glam experimentation and attitude-heavy performances show a band still seeking new thrills even decades in.

For all the varnish Feldmann applied, Hurry Up and Wait still sounds like the Dune Rats, which is good news for all concerned, except perhaps whoever bankrolled the sessions.

All or Nothing is undeniably impressive, but at the cost of some of the heart that's as vital to Shopping's music as their brilliant interplay.

This album is a bold step into fresh creative ground for the Lone Bellow, but they seem to still be settling into their new musical home.

Moreland is honest and articulate as he tries to sort out his demons, and if this is a very different album for him, the songs are heartfelt and well-crafted, and the production by Matt Pence of Centro-Matic takes the songwriter to a different place with effective, moving results. Some of John Moreland's fans are likely to be surprised by LP5, but as an expression of his talent and range, it stands with his best work to date.

Simply being able to re-create the sound and flow of Fela Kuti's glory days would be an accomplishment to be proud of by itself, but on Fu Chronicles, Antibalas once again show they're not just borrowing but building on their influences, and this album speaks to the head as much as the hips.

Both a poignant tribute to his friend and former collaborator and a weary meditation on love and death, And It's Still Alright cuts a curious balance between tender introspection and a playful sense of confidence he's carried over from the Night Sweats era.

None of these tracks rank among Wild Nothing's strongest work, but they serve as an excellent extension of the relaxed, beatific mood Indigo cultivated.

Throughout, Visser's earnest, quivery vocal delivery adds authenticity to emotionally raw, guileless lyrics, making Boniface an affecting debut with just enough hooks to compel repeat listens by pop fans.

There's an endearing tenderness to Trifilio's personal songwriting style that mostly avoids emo clichés, and the band's cautiously buoyant indie pop walks the line between sweet and muscular on this solid debut.

While Bieber's voice still sounds like that of a mid- to late-teen, singing seems to come more naturally to him, and his falsetto pleas are neither bitter nor entitled, strictly genuine and adult.

Although Unlocked concludes almost as soon as it starts, Curry and Kenny pack so much into this short release that repeat listens are a must and, indeed, a pleasure.

At its best, Names of North End Women is a beautiful creative rebirth.

Even if it's not always as vivid as some of her earlier albums, Miss Anthropocene is often fascinating and defies expectations in ways that still fit her always thought-provoking aesthetic.

While Surrender Your Poppy Field is less immediately approachable than the other albums from this period in the Guided by Voices saga, it's experimental, not meandering, and for fans with a taste for their more esoteric side, this will hit the spot and then some.

It's elegant, regal even, yet so immersed in its icy solitude that the listener is often left looking for cracks in the facade instead of common ground.

It's a promising debut that should appeal particularly to fans of its electro-pop-minded contributors.

The more subdued affect of Aloha makes it a less immediately satisfying listen than New Magic, but that does nothing to change that this is a rewarding effort from an exciting and engaging talent.

Nothing is lost in the process and tracks like "Bora Lá" with singer Rogê and Leporace, "Samba in Heaven" with Joans, and "This Is It (É Isso)" with Pascoal and Leporace, retain all the funky, soulful rhythms and hooky melodies that made Mendes' seminal albums so captivating.

Suite for Max Brown may be a direct sequel to its predecessor, but it's nonetheless creative and thoughtful. It's also very accessible. Experimental music never sounded this welcoming.

The project's first album is a chaotic, unsettling mess filled with manic, distorted beats, mutated samples, and several varieties of intense vocalizations, from suffocated guttural screaming to commanding operatic virtuosity. While registering as some form of post-metal on the surface, the album is actually devoid of guitars.

Horns and lush backing vocals do appear here and there, as does a slightly misguided dip into a borderline cartoonish vocal baritone on the otherwise strong "Ol' Man River," but the best parts of American Standard occur in the intimate moments that constitute Taylor's wheelhouse and of which there are more than enough to satisfy.

Sometimes intricate, but more of an album-length mood that a collection of memorable songs, it's strangely well-suited for attentive headphone listening and for unwinding.

As a whole, Printer's Devil is both stronger and sweeter than their prior sets, likely resulting in a more lasting impression for casual listeners and a surefire hit for established fans.

A Situation, the group's third album, sounds similar to the first two, except this time there's a greater presence of lyrics, and the songs sound more urgent.

All told, Forward Motion Godyssey isn't quite as much fun as Post Animal's debut, but they still deliver that characteristic warmth as well as uncommonly sharp hooks, fills, and theatrics of a nature that should delight air guitarists and drummers everywhere.

Wasted Shirt is a collaborative project in the best sense, as the strengths of both Segall and Chippendale are at the forefront on Fungus II, and if this album is less accessible than most of Segall's recent releases, it has excitement and daring to spare.

The original lyrics tend to be powerful enough to fit in with the extensive quotations, whether Mhysa is referencing a black spiritual, Lucille Clifton, or Janet Jackson.

In other hands, that much material could turn into a tedious slog, but Lil Baby manages to keep every moment fresh, finding a unique and unlikely midway between artistic inspiration and commercially viable entertainment.

Collector feels a bit uneven at times, but in the end Disq has enough attitude and smart ideas to keep things exciting.

Sorry You Couldn't Make It declares there should be a place for Swamp Dogg in the country pantheon alongside Charley Pride, Stoney Edwards, Darius Rucker, and the other brave artists who've confronted the color line in Nashville.

This music shows that Buck is a very good friend to have in the studio; he knows how give a song the setting it needs, and this is a dark but richly entertaining delight.

Just as Fever captured a snapshot of a young artist breaking through to worldwide fame in real time, Suga finds Megan Thee Stallion experiencing the growing pains of success. The songs reflect this in their lyrical content, overall shift in tonality, and even in the small steps they take towards more commercial sounds.

Simulcast could be thought of as the more "background music" version of Weather, but even without lyrics, it's still meant to put your mind in motion. Both versions are equally worth the roughly half-hour it takes to listen to each.

Despite a few poignant moments, Manchester Calling is dominated by lively, playful songs, and though the track list might have been improved by cutting a handful of the more similar ones, the couple can't be justly accused of allowing any filler.

While Deap Lips lose some of the raw immediacy of Deap Vally and don't ascend to the songwriting heights of Flaming Lips, they create a mood of their own that pulls only a little from each group. Required listening for anyone already invested in either band and a wild, enjoyable listen for even the uninitiated.

It's definitely a step back in the right direction after the last album's stumble and stacks up to be their most consistent and enjoyable record to date.

Ricky Music's high-contrast, theatrical style plays out like a mini (24-minute) chamber-synth song cycle about infatuation, sex, and heartbreak -- with just enough balance between candidness and self-awareness to keep us rooting for the lead.

Even though it's a lengthy journey and some of the songs start to feel similar, nothing here is filler.

Longtime Districts fans may well be surprised by the surfaces of You Know I'm Not Going Anywhere, but after a few listens it's clear this music has as much (or maybe more) that connects it to their past than that which separates it from their larger body of work.

Dungen Live certainly captures the side of the group that's more interested in exploration than writing catchy psych-pop songs and shows that they are the equal of just about any other band of their ilk that might want to take a run at them. It may not be essential Dungen, but it is well worth tracking down and giving a spin any time some good old fashioned uninhibited psychedelic wandering is what the doctor ordered.

Set aside this inclination toward sneering solipsism, which not only characterizes but enlivens nearly every song, and I Am Not a Dog on a Chain is one of the better latter-day Morrissey records: the sense of musical daring reveals how placid and complacent he's been for the better part of a decade.

The album seemingly becomes more spaced out towards the end, but the concluding "Slow Movement: Sand" feels like a solemn resolution and is one of its more affecting tracks.

There's still plenty of mileage left on their sound, and as long as they keep making records as sweet, cozy, and melodically engaging as Truth or Consequences, Yumi Zouma can keep going for quite a while with minimal depreciation.

A little bit of a diversion from past Four Tet releases, Sixteen Oceans feels like Hebden is taking a moment to stop and reflect on his family, his environment, music culture, and everything else that made him who he is.

There isn't much lyrical substance on Colores, and there doesn't need to be. It's a party record whose lyric flows are effortless and laid-back enough -- a Balvin trademark -- to attract listeners inside and outside musica urbano's big tent. The album's brevity adds depth and dimension to its direct, seductive, welcoming mix and garish presentation.

While fans will be glad to know that Through Water generally adheres to the well-embraced, cushiony indie electronica of Long Way Home, its "2.0" quality makes it an even better entry point for the uninitiated.

An assured singer, she settles into a hushed, urgent intimacy for Kelsea, an approach that suits the songs and her intent and also helps make the whole stylish production seem genuinely intimate.

Uneasy Laughter is a riskier proposition than Moaning's first album, but it demonstrates their tremendous growth, both as a band and as humans.

This is sometimes an aural journey through a labyrinth, but it never sounds like the participants are lost.

The Performer can get a bit bogged down in its own stylistic chicanery, but Righton is transitioning from rocker to crooner in real time, and it's the tension between the two aesthetics that keeps the listener's attention.

For the band's part, they definitely benefit from being able to stretch out in the studio for a change, and Loughead in particular delivers some excellent lead guitar work. In terms of Nap Eyes' catalog, Snapshot feels like a bold new era, though it's not without its growing pains.

Illusion of Time fittingly sounds rougher and more spontaneous than any of Avery's work or Cortini's preceding recordings, particularly his 2019 Mute release Volume Massimo, but its highlights seem to pull divine inspiration out of practically nothing.

Local Honey is an inside record that's better-suited for humid mornings and overcast afternoons than the open highway. In looking stridently inward, Fallon has crafted his most homespun and relatable outing to date.

Despite the label move, it's a follow-up both stylistically and thematically to 2018's Lavender, as it revisits themes of displacement, isolation, and connection.

As a reflection of the times, Ghosts VI: Locusts might be the more accurate soundtrack to a world on the brink of an uncertain future, wiping away any goodwill fostered by the deceptive serenity of Ghosts V: Together.

Glaspy has more or less tamped down her previously distracting vocal affectations in favor of a more sonorous style that really suits the material. Overall, she adds a handful of unique entries into the love song canon while pushing her own body of work forward.

No matter how much Kelly Finnigan cloaks or smears his sweet and sour voice, he's one of the more affecting singers of his kind, the focal point amid an expertly arranged band and supporting voices, strings, and brass.

Curiously [on the final track], the drums briefly mutate into skittering drum'n'bass breakbeats before everything goes silent, approximating the sensation of suddenly being jolted awake from a vivid dream. Moments like these keep the album intriguing, and they resonate more deeply with repeated listens.

Consistently hypnotic, yet rich with sneaky melodic shifts, Sister's rich sonic architecture, which includes Bettinson's anodyne vocals and stream of consciousness wordsmithing, is its greatest selling point.

If You're Dreaming definitely isn't as immediate as Quit the Curse, and while it isn't a demanding album, it requires a bit more concentration in order to understand it better.

While the retro-future production on some of the songs gives Migration Stories a distinctive flair, it's still by and large a typical Ward joint, replete with all of the idiosyncrasies and retro affectations that have become a stylistic hallmark of his catalog. Familiar as it may sound, though, he doesn't skimp on quality and there is plenty to love about this latest entry in his impressive catalog.

If you're looking for a soundtrack to the end of the world, which isn't necessarily out of the question in 2020, Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs are here for you, and Viscerals allows you to stare angrily into the abyss in grand style.

Mellow, multi-purpose country-pop designed to soundtrack good times at home, on the road, at the office, or at a bar.

Moving the effervescent tempos and syncopated dance impulses of her first two albums from backyard parties and rumbling car stereos into the nightclubs, Empress Of's third studio album, I'm Your Empress Of, plays at times like a DJ set, keeping the music and the body in motion.

Easily his richest, most complex music to date, A Western Circular is where Archer reaches the sound he's been striving towards.

There isn't anything startlingly new or different about Kings of the Medway Delta that will surprise fans, but in the great tradition of John Lee Hooker, Billy Childish is someone who can keep on doing the same thing while investing it with enough power, intensity, and honesty that it never loses its ability to drawn the listener in. If you've ever wished that your old Little Walter records didn't sound so slick, Kings of the Medway Delta should be just the thing for you.

At its loudest and most brash, the album is fun and cathartic on par with any good high-energy rock band. In the moments when punk vitriol meets reflective, thoughtful expression, Far Enough grows more intriguing and compelling.

Deeply introspective and pleasantly mellow, Lost in the Country is a mature step forward for Benton as a writer, and more firmly establishes Trace Mountains' vision.

While undoubtedly more developed and ambitious than the first Jackie Lynn record, Jacqueline still sounds like the work of an experimental side project, but it's clear that Fohr and her friends are having an awful lot of fun with this, and it's easy to get swept up in their immersive dream world.

Compared to SP's conceptual third and fourth LPs, which arrived together in 2017, The Don of Diamond Dreams is unified by its funkier and humanized sonics more than its lyrics.

Steve Albini recorded the sessions, and he's done a typically fine job of putting this music on tape with accuracy but no needless frills, and Antarctica suggests Flat Worms have a longer and more diverse future ahead of them than one might have first guessed.

The group does touch on that raucous, open-heartedness with a closing cover of Charley Jordan's old country-blues standard "Keep It Clean," featuring cameos from John C. Reilly, David Garza, and Gaby Moreno. Arriving after such a sweet, soft collection of songs, it's a welcome burst of gusto, yet the rest of Brother Sister is attractive in its own right, highlighting the family bond between the titular Watkins siblings.

Occasionally, Knuckleball Express' loose ends threaten to unravel, but for the most part, the album is held together by the feeling that Hagerty is having more fun making music than he has in some time.

Steered by the singer's winsome, breathy vocals, even that message goes down easy, with an implied fluttered lash extension, on an album that aims to please and largely succeeds.

It's exciting to hear Benson take some new risks with these songs, but also a relief that he never gets too far away from the deft songwriting and pop sensibilities that he's been refining for all these years.

The album's diverse arrangements but consistent, sighing mood give Floatr a low-key cinematic quality on top of its meditative one. Though it may not be Happyness' most playlist-friendly set, it still lingers.

Pokey LaFarge is still working out the math on how to exist in more than one decade at a time, but Rock Bottom Rhapsody has more than enough good things in it that he's probably going to be just fine wherever he finally settles down.