Since the music he's drawing from is proudly excessive, it's hard to say Palomo overdoes it, but not all listeners may be fascinated by his meta-commentary on indulgent solo albums.

Ultimately, it's the singles that keep Angel Face interesting, an ironic twist, given that the period he fetishizes most certainly favored singles over LPs. So, in a sense, he has hit his mark squarely.

V is definitely a "more of the same" album, but Föllakzoid and Schmidt's human-machine fusion of minimal techno and space rock is still a unique sound that nobody has replicated, other than them.

The album's anxiety and melancholic mindset never abate, right up to and including resigned closer "Fishes," an explicitly metaphorical reference to mounted trophies. It makes for a satisfying, if unsatisfied, follow-up that both follows the appealing formula of their debut while letting loose on the full-band tracks.

At its heart, it's nothing more than the Rolling Stones knocking out some good Rolling Stones songs, which seems like a minor miracle after such a long wait.

Offset seems equally at home in almost every style he tries on, and though the heavily varied production and artistic approaches from track to track can give the album a less-than-consistent feel, the steady stream of guest appearances from stars like Future, Young Nudy, Latto, and others all help to emphasize how Set It Off is more exciting than it is uneven.

The EP's wistful quality combined with its brevity can make The Rest seem almost unassuming, but it's not slight: it's a welcome coda to the relative exuberance of The Record.

A stately and soulful set of songs rooted in the bittersweetness of nostalgia and adulthood.

If Jenny From Thebes may be a bit more cryptic than his best work, every song contains a yarn worth hearing, and his quietly bold, ordinary-guy delivery is surprisingly flexible, adjusting itself to fit any situation he presents.

"Blurring" is an inventive trip-hop diversion, with booming illbient bass, slowly crushing breaks, and a downright lovely vocal hook. It ends up leaving a much bigger impression than most of the other tracks on the album, even if it isn't exactly the type of earworm one might expect from the artist's description of his intentions for the project.

The Great Escape shows that Chris Stamey still has a faultless touch as a songwriter, vocalist, producer, and arranger, and it gently but confidently sees him adding new colors to his palette and using them well.

The whole album has that kind of off-kilter appeal and even when the singers break things down lyrically to the elemental level of survival in a world seemingly on the brink of collapse, this is music meant to transport the listener. Consider it a job well done and enough of an artistic success that one hopes the trio makes this one time gathering of like-minded souls a more regular occurrence.

Cohesion and comprehension are left on the cutting room floor of I<3UQTINVU, but these untamed reimaginings of the songs extend the album's fun and curiosity.

Morrison has never been a rockabilly cat, he's a blues shouter and he plays precisely to those strengths here, leading his band through lively and loving readings of rock & roll oldies, never apologizing for the unabashed nostalgia of the entire enterprise.

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

It's definitely music for dourer days, although there's also an alluring elegance in play that can make it feel more mysterious than dispiriting. Like a lot of compellingly constructed minimalist music, Acts of Light benefits from repeat listens.

Once again working with co-producer Dave Cobb, Stapleton also has his wife Morgane behind the boards in addition to singing harmony and playing keyboards, a tight, familial group of collaborators that gives Higher a relaxed, familiar feel that keeps things buoyant even in its darkest moments.

By the time Rockstar reaches "Free Bird," the party has been rolling on for two hours and is starting to feel a little tired -- it doesn't help that Parton is duetting with the ghost of Ronnie Van Zant, either -- but that doesn't erase the good spirits created by the rest of the record.

If Innerstanding favors aural texture to melodic immediacy, there's intrigue in how its electronic pulse intermingles with shimmering mantras, resulting in a record that reveals its mysteries over time.

New Blue Sun is probably not the André 3000 solo debut most OutKast fans had expected or hoped for, but it does continue the integrity and spirit of his creative journey, in a way that's fittingly bizarre and beautiful.

Even considering its modest ambitions, it's probably not a surprise that Songs of Silence showcases instincts and inventiveness well beyond that of your typical synth-instrumentals diversion.

It's another page in Vile's ongoing catalog of daydreams and stoned musings, in its best moments reaching the same levels of quality as his fully considered albums.

Anches en Maat isn't one of Grails' more intense records, but it does a fine job of capturing the certain type of melancholy cinematic vibe that they've been exploring for much of their career.

Not every track on Welcome 2 Collegrove is essential, and the quality gets spottier in the final quarter, but the album stays consistently fun if not entirely engaging.

Saviors sounds cleaner, stronger, and purposeful, all due to the still-sharp pop instincts of Bille Joe Armstrong. Age may dampen Green Day's roar, but it has also heightened their songcraft, and that's reason enough to give Saviors time to let its hooks sink in.

On his third studio album American Dream, rap superstar 21 Savage delivers a set of the kind of stone-faced trap he's known for glossed over with another layer of big-budget production to keep him in the charts.

With a little editing, Insano could have been one of Kid Cudi's strongest releases to date. Instead, listeners are given an uneven playlist of great highs and should-have-been B-sides that, in the very least, deliver the expected vocal melodics, haunting vibes, tongue-twisting bars, and "tortured" emotions that Cudi has mastered over the years.

With a sharp ear for hooks, quirky phrasing tendencies, and visceral, spontaneous-sounding accompaniment, ultimately making Melt the Honey play out something like a guilty pleasure.

People Who Aren't There Anymore is another refinement rather than a reinvention or bold step forward. It feels slightly less glossy than some of their other 4AD releases, coming a little closer to the lo-fi textures of earlier albums, but from the perspective of artists who have been working hard for nearly two decades.

Fans may be relieved to learn that while Broom did ratchet up the intensity of their sound a notch in the studio, together they keep things raw, frank, fun, and friskily psychedelic on the resulting The Joy of Sects.

A careful listen reveals he's not shy about constructing a pousse café of six-string textures, but he's smart enough to know when to reign himself in, and most of the time Three Bells sound admirably open and dynamic, leaving just enough daylight between the overdubs to allow each to have some personality of its own.

While just about everything here is darkly anxious yet engaging, highlights include the line “Life’s just time chasing your mind with the body you get" (from "In the Red") and the bouncy, utterly infectious "Big Air," which, in keeping with the rest of the album, adds injury to elation: "I got big air/Flew and landed strange."

King Perry doesn't rank among the pioneering artist's classics, but it's an enjoyable late-period effort that reminds listeners of his adventurous spirit and inimitable character.

Robby Krieger & The Soul Savages is hip, relaxed, and confident. The quartet sounds like they're having an exceptionally good time and that translates to aural gold for the listener.

After a few more adequate songs without sonic or lyrical linearity -- a tender collaboration with simpatico Afrobeats producer/singer Pheelz stands out most -- the album hits its stride with a sequence of slow jams demonstrating that Usher is at the top of his game as a singer, still much more than a mere entertainer.

If one is looking for the more adventurous and off-kilter band of their earlier days, steer clear. If it’s introspective, somewhat epic country rock balladry one desires, then Blu Wav might be just the thing. It's certainly the band's most focused record to date and if that seems a little unexciting, the emotional payoff will make it worthwhile in the end.

The album is relatively streamlined and sleek, containing no guest appearances and showing no overt attempts at chasing trends.

It all works well together sonically and conceptually, resulting in an album that is Itasca's most cohesive and mystical yet -- and that's saying something.

A more playful, song-oriented set, if one where the lighter tone proves to be more than a little ironic.

It's not a return to form, a return to pop, or really a return of any kind, just a continuation of the band's blissfully weird frames of mind and a record that includes some of their strongest songs in years.

The piece ["Interstellar"] is easily the album's lightest and most optimistic moment, as the rest can feel cold, ominous, and sometimes challenging. Still, the album's more mysterious aspects make it worth hearing.

Half Divorced is Pissed Jeans' chosen form of therapy for folks who really, REALLY don't like Mondays. Or most of the rest of the week.

Skip the dogs, stick to the weird, raw, and experimental songs and Glasgow Eyes might be considered one of the band's best albums in a very long time. Add them back and it makes for a frustrating and exhilarating listening experience that's brutally honest, completely ridiculous, and in some ways it sums up everything good and bad about the Jesus and Mary Chain all on one slab of plastic.

Grey's voice is sometimes treated in a way to further emphasize the urgent bulletin-like quality of the material, but otherwise, this crackles with spontaneity, and the band at times plays with nearly the same ferocity displayed on some of their 1980-1982 output.

While Kaiser Chiefs aren't starting many riots these days, these shiny tunes will keep the body bouncing and the spirits high.

Scope Neglect is a disorienting, sometimes deceptive work, but it's thrilling in the way it dismantles genre tropes.

Bleachers occasionally borders on indulgent, but its tangents and loose ends are part and parcel of Antonoff's process -- and part of what makes it such a complete self-portrait.

Like the open-ended, amorphous production, the tunes all accentuate the record's general thrust of interior contentment. Musgraves, along with her regular collaborators Daniel Tashian and Ian Fitchuk, do manage to capture and sustain this delicate sensibility, creating a record that's every bit as pretty and memorable as gentle afternoon rain.

Girl Friends isn't a great Dion album, but it's certainly a good one, and worth a spin for anyone who digs the Pride of the Bronx. He's still got it, and you can hear it on Girl Friends.

Some of the tracks on Three cover similar territory, but overall, the album is much more tightly focused than the abstract yet personal Sixteen Oceans.

On Real Power, Gossip don't try too hard to recapture the past or fit in with the sound of the sound of the 2020s, and that's what makes it a dignified, down-to-earth return.

El Perro del Mar stares into chasms of being and nonbeing on Big Anonymous, calmly dictating back the horrors and revelations she sees in a steady voice.

Ohio Players isn't the most frantic celebration the Black Keys have delivered, but more than enough of it will get your body moving that it qualifies as a success.

While Echo Dancing is uneven, the hits outnumber the misses by a margin that qualifies this as a successful experiment.

While the Libertines still haven't fully seized the opportunity to define what they could be as veterans instead of upstarts, All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade still sounds more like the product of a working band than Anthems for Doomed Youth did, and offers enough good and great moments to keep fans believing.

A LA SALA is Khruangbin's most stripped-down effort since their debut, but it isn't threadbare, and fans of the group should find it worthwhile.

Exotic Birds of Prey sounds like it's broadcasting live from an unknown galaxy, giving us an idea of what music will sound like on other planets in the future while nodding knowingly to some of Earth's most exciting sounds of the past.

Though there are a few more abstract pieces -- like the brief, scattered "Got Me" -- as a whole, The Sunset Violent focuses on impressionistic snapshots and daydream-like reflections. It's easily the most unified record Mount Kimbie has produced, especially in stark contrast to their previous effort.

If the individual songs don't quite differentiate themselves, that's not precisely a detriment, as King is on an explicit interior journey, ensuring that his music mimics his moods. He doesn't avoid darkness, but he chooses not to wallow, finding instead a measure of peace in the emotional expression itself.

One Deep River doesn't necessarily break new ground for Knopfler, but it does add a clutch of well-written, impeccably played songs to his canon.

It revisits familiar electro-pop territory while upping the anguish and explicit content. Essentially a set of danceable power ballads about people who get past the bouncer at the club ("You'll never f*ck somebody hotter"), it may have some cringy, bratty lyrics at first listen (catch also "Joyride"'s anthemically delivered "You were in my dreams/Now I’m in your bed"), but, supported by performances, the raw vulnerability is the point.

The album was produced by if i could make it go quiet's Matias Tellez (AURORA, Gracie Abrams), whose colorful, high-contrast approach bolsters the lyrical frankness of the onetime bedroom pop artist, who, true to her origins, keeps the ten-song set's playing time under 30 minutes.

Hawkwind still sound like themselves and nobody else on Stories from Time and Space, and if it doesn't break new ground, it's the work of a band with interesting ideas and the talent and imagination to make something of them, which not many groups can manage, let alone one that's been doing this for more than half a century.

Rampen contrasts Neubauten's hard and soft sides, recalling the spontaneity and inventive instrumentation of their beginnings, but framing them in a more mature and hopeful perspective.

Tarantula Heart's five tracks contain more than an album's worth of weirdness and power. It's a wild ride, even for the Melvins, and further solidifies their status as seemingly invincible practitioners of heavy, messed-up music.

At times, the mood is so sustained that the album resembles one slowly evolving song. At its finest, though, Dream Talk is an alluring reminder of the power of visions and fantasies from a group that's mastered how to bring them to life.

Unlike such fine latter-day Hunter albums like Shrunken Heads, there's not a driving theme behind Defiance, but there doesn't need to be. The fact that Hunter can sound this tuneful, sharp, and engaged when he's well into his eighties is a triumph worth celebrating.

It's rough-around-the-edges fun, with the warmth of familiarity and kinship that Neil Young & Crazy Horse have built by playing together for more than half a century.

An easygoing grower that digs deeper with each successive listen, Radical Optimism doesn't need to be Future Nostalgia 2.0; it's the sound of an artist enjoying life and exploring new directions as she continues to hone her craft.

Pokey LaFarge manages to show off some depth and have a lot of fun at the same time on Rhumba Country, and listeners should have a ball right along with him.

The ten-song set is a non-stop whirlwind of chugging, downtuned riffs, urgently screamed vocals, and machine-gun drum performances pushed to the front of the mixes.

Something about I Am Jordan feels a bit moderated, because even though it's a fun, celebratory record, it doesn't always hit the ecstatic highs that it's shooting for. Still, even if it isn't chock-full of wall-to-wall bangers, it's certainly an inspired effort that charts Jordan's growth as an artist and as a person.

By the orchestral, Chelsea Girl-evoking beauty of final track "Why Worry," Campbell has spent the album flitting from idea to idea, ending up with a sampler pack of different stylizations of her always lovely (if not always simple) songcraft.

The album may have been written during a dark night of the soul but it was recorded with precision and concentration, ultimately obscuring the pain at the point of origin. It's an approach that hardly does a disservice to either Shultz or Cage the Elephant: it gives Neon Pill an alluring, subdued pulse that soothes instead of stirs.

Cleveland's vocals are unfortunately low in the mix and it's often difficult to make out the lyrics, but approached simply as another instrument in the ensemble, her soft, breathy tone is lovely and enigmatic, and the layers of echoey guitars and '60s-style keyboard sounds blend wonderfully with her vocals.

At times, Dream of Delphi's soothing yet awestruck moods play more like a soundtrack than a set of songs, but those who savor Khan's powers of expression as much as her art pop savvy will find a lot to love here.

The album carries a lightness that's emphasized by its brisk running time. That might mean The Border, unlike A Beautiful Time, doesn't quite feel like a final chapter but rather a welcome coda restating Nelson's strengths with casual ease.

Generally apologetic, reassuring, and hopeful, Chaos Angel is a comforting album that features some of Hawke's hookiest and most self-assured material yet.

I Hear You varies in quality, with some songs clearly more successful than others, but overall, it's a fun, adventurous record confirming Peggy Gou's status as one of the more distinctive figures in club music.

Goat Girl's wealth of ideas is one of their biggest strengths, but Below the Waste lacks the focus that united their music into a cohesive whole on On All Fours.

Keep Me on Your Mind/See You Free is state-of-the-art contemporary pop-folk, and with each LP Bonny Light Horseman deliver stronger work; deciding to put their songwriting chops to work may be the smartest thing they've done to date.

Kaytranada continues to refine his sample-laced mixture of house, compas, hip-hop, and other cross-continental styles of dance music with Timeless.

Tunes such as "Rainlines," "Dolphin Spray," and the amusingly titled "Cafe del Mars" are among his prettiest and most straightforward, respectively, dealing out throbbing and knackered house, intimate dancehall, and vaporous techno. The few purely ambient pieces, highlighted by "Doves Over Atlantis," are almost as evocative.

Though most of What Happened to the Heart? lands in a dance-pop middle ground stylistically, ballads like the Brazilian-flavored "The Essence" and synth-enhanced "Dreams" offer room to breathe with their drum-less or drum-light arrangements.

Rather than a succinct return to form, As It Ever Was is quite dense, occasionally getting in its own way in trying to do a bit of everything. For that reason, it might not be the record that earns them scads of new listeners, but for longtime fans, there is a lot to love.

Fine Art is a major step up for Kneecap, an already unique group who have finally delivered on their early promise with a bold, relevant statement.

If Model suffers from anything, it's sometimes seeming a bit formulaic in the process, but the good news is that the band is really good at catchy unlucky-in-love songs.

While nothing quite matches the baddie intensity of "Big Boy," Dopamine works nicely, conjuring a vibe of sultry, post-club afterglow.

For an album that spans multiple styles and features a different guest vocalist on every song, Always Centered at Night is consistently passionate and spiritual.

Throughout Eight Pointed Star's various stylistic touchpoints, artistic allusions, and consistently lyrical melodies, Allen effectively merges the cerebral and the sentimental on an album that's ultimately about different kinds of love.

We Sang, Therefore We Were may have been born out of restlessness and anger, but it's also a remarkably fun dispatch from one of indie music's most inventive musical minds.

Rest assured, songs including the opening "Millions of Heartbeats" make clear that Nash hasn't lost her impudent flair; however, by the end of the record, any cheekiness is easily outweighed by disarming earnestness.

Stung! is yet another hard-to-categorize but easy-to-enjoy chapter in Pond's ever-changing story. It's full of melodies made for both sunny summer days and solitary, reflective walks, and often changes gears with little notice.

The results are mixed if always entertaining.

While The Secret of Us finds her still vulnerable and singing with an audible frown, her delivery is stronger, arrangements are more sweeping and robust, and at least some of the songs are trying to look forward.

Alvin and Gilmore are two great tastes who taste great together, with Alvin's salt and Gilmore's sweetness accenting one another very well indeed, and Texicali is strong enough to suggest this collaboration should have gas in the tank for at least one more album.

At its best, C,XOXO is a vibes album, musical perfume -- a spritz of Cabello's "meteor shower" pop moment.

While Megan strays somewhat from the formula of invincible confidence and crowd-pleasing summer anthems that we're used to from MTS, its moments of bitterness and uncertainty do a lot to humanize the larger-than-life rap queen, one whose head has grown heavy from wearing the crown.