Despite Clarkson's rousing performances and optimistic outlook, Chemistry feels cloistered and secluded, lacking pathways into its inner sanctuaries.

Stitched together with old, seemingly unfinished material dusted off and sometimes freshened up in some fashion, varying wildly in subject matter, and therefore doesn't come across as a true follow-up to 2021's Punk.

The singer confesses to being "a neurotic mess" in the opening "Amöban," and there's sorrow in the purposefully ragged "Kenneth," but letting go, living it up, and delighting in overindulgence win out thematically across the album. The best of the lot might be "Frisco," a discreet declaration of liberation that with equal ease could be transformed into an acoustic jazz ballad or a storming house anthem.

There isn't an overriding theme on Sticks and Stones, nor is it nearly as ambitious as previous POTR records, yet that's its considerable charm: it's lean, loose and funny, the kind of record that provides a soundtrack any kind of good time.

It's a keen and catchy, often poetic, always emotionally honest outing that raises the bar on the project's already well-established strengths.

Wispy, strings-and-chimes-enhanced indie popper "All Over" is contrasted stylistically by the pop slickness of "Climbing Trees," which is replete with synth shimmer and vocal processing. Throughout, however, punchy hooks and melodic "whoa-ohs" accompany lyrics delivered with an ever-present frown and the suggestion that the title Supermodels was chosen to evoke alienation.

Oddisee is a pro at boiling a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions down to concise, relatable songs, and To What End contains some of his most deeply personal work to date.

A Trip to Bolgatanga gets as sunny and upbeat as African Head Charge's live performances or their more polished studio efforts from the mid-'90s, but it maintains the spirit of experimentation and love of speaker-crushing bass they've had since the beginning.

As Lifeguard's first major salvo, Crowd Can Talk/Dressed in Trenches is a superb statement of purpose and demonstration of strength, and anyone who still believes in the possibilities of the electric guitar needs it in their life.

Context and a bold lack of featured artists lend a sense of solitary unease that differentiates these exploits from those recounted in his earlier output.

Even in these more saccharine moments, however, it's hard to dismiss the album's optimistic spirit. With Rain Before Seven..., Penguin Cafe acknowledge grief and loss but prefer to express joy and positivity.

It's moments like this, the staticky intro to "Lightning Comes Up from the Ground," and the distant thunder-like, well-spaced drum strikes of "Conversation Is a Flowstate" that elevate what are already lovely songs to something that feels transformative.

A powerful return, My Back Was a Bridge for You to Cross reaffirms that Anohni & the Johnsons' ability to confront the hardest issues and moments is as eloquent and relevant as ever.

A triumph in its own right, I Inside the Old Year Dying's lively exploration is also a rekindling of something vital in Harvey's art in general. Though its whispers and shadows may not reveal everything, they're more than enough for a fascinating listening experience.

JID018 is an absolutely simmering set, with one of Afrobeat's creators showing us how it's done once again.

Where Mr. Money with the Vibe charted his rise, Work of Art firmly cements Asake's place as a Nigerian star with global appeal.

Hunger for a Way Out was such a strikingly rough diamond that Good Living Is Coming for You couldn't have the same element of surprise, but the refinements Sweeping Promises have made only reinforce how consistent and distinctive their music is -- and how much more it has to offer.

The overpowering guitars and relentlessly complex song structures that make up the majority of the album feel more like the sounds Hanson makes with Wand than something unique to his solo iteration, but he shares some new windows into his wonderfully mystifying psyche all the same.

Though Michael can get overbearing at times, the production is generally stellar, and it's easily the rapper's most honest and emotional work.

It's a well-crafted and often moving album that mixes a bit of Cat Stevens' sound with Yusuf's heart and soul, and it honors both with skill and sincerity.

More dynamic and sonically defined than Divide and Dissolve's earlier albums, Systemic is easily their most successful work thus far.

Like a folky, more rough-hewn Blossom Dearie, Sternberg's quavering voice will not please everyone and their musical palette is delightfully out of step with the times, but their candor and warmth of character are universal.

Stories From a Rock 'n' Roll Heart isn't the triumphant return some might have hoped for, but for its flaws, it shows Williams hasn't lost her spark or her determination to create, and this may not be a great album, but it suggests she has it in her to make another great one somewhere down the line. Here's hoping.

Producer Brian Fox has given the recordings an unobtrusive clarity and warmth that flatters the material, and overall Let There Be Music pushes Bonny Doon and their music forward without forcing them out of their comfort zone. Imagine what might happen if they started drinking coffee.

This is to say that Dream from the Deep Well isn't unvaried or austere, but it is remarkably timeless-feeling as well as soft-spoken -- if only in terms of volume.

The group still seem like they're working towards achieving a distinctive sound, and it feels like they haven't fully figured out how to integrate some of their more recent influences into their music. Still, the band is consistently inventive, the production is generally fantastic, and the album has several strong moments.

With the band's help, they've captured a mood on Can We Do Tomorrow Another Day? that's peaceful, easy, and a treat to dip back into whenever the stress of the day-to-day threatens to overwhelm.

Taken as a whole, Blowout is Kirby's most adventurous record as well as his most accessible, thanks to hip arrangements, imaginative compositions, and focused, expert musicianship.

Exorcist is Birchwood's tightest, most adventurous set to date in his quest to create a contemporary context for the reinvention of American blues.

So much of Russell's work contained a playful curiosity, but that sweet character never felt so apparent as it did with the delicate intensity of World of Echo. Picture of Bunny Rabbit's continuance of that pure spirit is a gift to anyone with a special place in their heart for Russell, and even more evidence of just how peerless he was an artist.

Black Duck's sprawling improv and cosmic Americana is the product of three experienced musicians deeply in tune with one another, eager to travel anywhere the spirit takes them.

Stinson's rumpled charm and casual touch make Wronger sound tossed off in the best sense: it's light and intimate, the kind of record two old friends make when they just want to relax and enjoy each other's company.

Anyone who enjoyed The Dirty South as it appeared in 2004 will find The Complete Dirty South rewarding, and those who haven't heard it owe it to themselves to hear it in uncompromised form.

Yay! is not actually retro, nor less lyrically provocative or musically adventurous. It is, simply, the latest necessary creative gambit from these sonic psychonauts.

All Her Plans isn't an album for folks looking for a playful, pop-punk experience, but it's a brave, powerful record that's a reminder of how much punk rock can communicate with so few moving parts.

I Only See the Moon's more diversified approach is an engaging one that, frankly, evades the potential slog of some of the Kids' prior LPs without surrendering heartache, nostalgia, or slow tempos and grace in the process.

On Pain is overall both an exciting artistic achievement and a record that should fit the bill for anyone looking for a very cold and sad synth pop update.

Though Melodies on Hiatus' experiments sacrifice some of the single-minded purpose of Hammond's previous albums, it delivers a bumper crop of songs that embrace the complexities of life and music with a sense of adventure.

Mellencamp's blend of sinewy rhythms and burnished acoustics is recognizably his, yet it draws upon a sound that's now part of a shared past. It's a sound that's aged well, and Mellencamp has aged within it.

Eight is energetic, inspired, and hits with one melodic hook after another, capturing the sound of a band overjoyed to be back and having the time of their lives.

The pair has assembled this durable catalog almost without interruption, reliably delivering singles, albums, remixes, and EPs almost annually since their debut. Work ethic and quality don't always go hand in hand, but Pet Shop Boys have both in spades.

One of Metheny's aesthetic signatures is an often euphoric character in his composing and playing. While that's absent here, emotion, vulnerability, and poignancy aren't.

Avenged Sevenfold go further down the rabbit hole with an innovative set of progressive metal epics rooted in existential crisis.

Bright New Disease has some jarring sonic clashes, but both bands seem to be on the same wavelength in terms of their modes of cathartic expression and their disregard for stylistic boundaries.

A definite improvement over leaving meaning, The Beggar is a riskier yet more successful effort that feels like a step in a more fulfilling direction.

A record that's as catchy as it is emotionally overpowering.

Peace...Like a River is a labyrinthine trek through original songs that nod at the band's classic rock influences, creating an album that sounds like it was written and recorded during the 1970s.

At once more serious and more playful than Mr. Dynamite, Yawning Abyss homes in on what Creep Show do best, and the ways they skewer corruption and indifference are a treat for fans of any of the artists involved and for anyone else who enjoys eloquent, darkly humorous electronic pop.

Taken together, the album is an engaging and rousing affair with more than enough down-to-earth awareness and poignancy to keep it grounded.

Ticket to Fame's balancing act between jumbled weirdness, edgy pop, and occasional respites of synthy atmospheres is a fantastic introduction to Decisive Pink's insular and contorted but often magical take on pop.

While the thick, churning grind may feel familiar, it never seems staid, not when QOTSA rely on clouds of vocal harmonies to push them onto a psychedelic astral plane, a shift that can amount to the subtle colorings of "Time & Place" or be as startling as the chorus of "Emotion Sickness."

The stricter members of the metal community might see King Gizzard as interlopers with no real metal cred, but after Rats Nest and now this thrillingly massive album, there's no reason the band shouldn't be considered one of the best practitioners of the genre around.

Its structure of pop songs threaded together with interview clips makes it feel a bit more essay-ish than the debut, which was named after a phrase Jayda often used in her final thesis. That said, Jayda does a magnificent job connecting deeply personal stories with accessible music.

Even though it was created by enough people to fill a starship, including the HawtPlates, a vocal group heard throughout and granted the spotlight on a moving a cappella piece, this is as intimate as any of Ndegeocello's previous albums. It's almost as varied as any of them in sound.

Rarely does a double album (or a quadruple EP?) sound so revitalizing, but Django Django somehow pull it off on their best release in years.

Social Lubrication is the work of a band that believes music can actually make a difference, and in Dream Wife's hands, it's a feeling that's contagious.

By and large, Heaven Is a Junkyard finds Powers in pastoral mode. Even in its most orchestrated moments, the album feels primarily reflective and still, like Powers is gazing out on a silent field of wheat and offering us a look into his brain as the thoughts, memories, and scattered hopes all float by.

He continues to process trauma, grief, and guilt, with tracks like "Pelle Coat" and the J. Cole-featuring "All My Life" being some of his more emotional material to date.

Tracks like "Wishing You the Best," "Pointless," and the unexpectedly clubby "Forget Me" are soundtrack-ready anthems that nicely showcase Capaldi's throaty croon.

Like all Tinariwen releases, Amatssou is compelling and strange. They are a musical entity like no other, translating the essence of their culture through creative exploration and complementary collaborations, yet always attuned to their inner compass.

The result is surprising and singular, revealing new twists in songs that seemed to be set in stone decades ago.

This LP is a triumph, an outstanding set of songs and performances from someone who has already proved they're one of the strongest, truest voices in American roots rock.

While observing the spaces between, Marshall's songs, reflective, consumptive, instructive and compelling, simultaneously create and destroy spaces between worlds he observes, so he might remake the world he lives in with restaint, grace, a broken heart, and brutal honesty.

Though Chris fully commits to Paranoïa, Angels, True Love's sweeping scope, as a whole it doesn't feel as rewarding as the diamond-like clarity and brilliance of Chris or La Vita Nuova. Even if it's missing some of the electrifying immediacy of those works, there's a lot of challenging and emotionally powerful music here for fans to appreciate.

Mostly, it means that Joy'All hums to a rhythm that's happy, if not quite beatific: Lewis bears her sorrows and scars proudly, which makes the sepia-toned positivity of the album feel earned.

All of this adds up to another well-made record that evolved from Squid's origins.

There's joy in every moment.

Purge is heavier on breaks and electronics than Pure, and it feels more sudden and immediate, forgoing the older album's dark ambient experimentation and extended track lengths.

With each subsequent album, Horan just gets better and better. The Show is his most immediate and engaging set to date, endlessly listenable and full of heart and charm.

After three or four of these hard-to-follow stylistic roadmaps, however, the excitement quickly becomes exhaustion, and Sleep Token's overly-polished sound starts to feel more overwrought than enjoyable.

Archangel Hill documents a singular artist with a tremendous command of her gifts – no small accomplishment for someone who was 87 years of age when this was released.

Baxter Dury deserves to be considered fully free of his father's shadow. Maybe after releasing this subtly brilliant and pleasingly scathing album, he'll finally believe it too.

They may or may not ever release anything as genre defining as ...And Out Come the Wolves or as hell-bent on destruction as that afore-mentioned 2000 album, but as far as punk in 2023 goes there aren't many bands making music as convincing or powerful as Rancid do here.

Formal Growth in the Desert plays like another State of the Union essay from this band of intelligent malcontents, and what they have to say is strikingly effective as editorial commentary and as music.

There might not be an album big enough to contain all the facets of Shears' talent, but Last Man Dancing's abundance of style and imagination should keep fans guessing -- and of course, dancing.

While this mix of vulnerability, anxiety, and resentment can feel uneven, Folds' melodies are engaging as ever, and he finds balance again on highlights like "Moments" (featuring Tall Heights) and the pandemic-isolation-themed "Winslow Gardens."

Fans who have developed a taste for the sweet sadness of the Cowboy Junkies' best work may find Such Ferocious Beauty a bit strong and confrontational for their taste, but that's very much the point of this music; this isn't rooted in solace, but in exorcising the demons that come from losing loved ones, and it's a difficult but eloquent act of public mourning.

While the album does delve into unusually -- for Wainwright -- rustic traditional fare, selections keep listeners on their toes by not only broadly defining folk, but with a slew of diverse guest singers and arrangements that, at least occasionally, stray into lush orchestral territory.

The way these splashes of color and invention intertwine with the carefully sculpted ballads result in a testament to Gallagher's enduring craft that's unusually satisfying.

But Here We Are keeps its focus on human connection, a distinction that separates it from other Foo Fighters albums.

Most of the album carries a definite rhythmic punch, a weight that's evident even in softer numbers like "The Ocean and the Butterfly" and "Monsters." A similar sense of gravel has carried over to Matthews' voice, an evolution that softens and deepens his phrasing eccentricities, another element of earthiness that gives Walk Around the Moon a sense of weight and immediacy that's rare in the Dave Matthews Band catalog.

Parts Daniel Johnston and avant-cabaret show, it demands attention from the opening clatter of a cassette recorder and ensuing dinked-out piano and spoke-sung rhymes of the one-minute "recognized."

The moderate pacing and more personally derived songwriting make the album one that demands closer attention to fully understand and enjoy, but it rewards that attention with some of the band's most nuanced and subtly detailed pop constructions to date, ultimately revealing new depths both musical and emotive.

Who knows where they might go next, but right here and right now in the year 2023, one would be hard-pressed to find a better rock & roll album on the shelves.

While Of Tomorrow might not seem too wildly removed from the rest of the band's body of work on first listen, the space it carves out for subtle details and bleary emotional expressions makes it an album that requires closer inspection to grasp its full scope.

Trouble on Big Beat Street sometimes meanders, and not all of its detours are rewarding. Nevertheless, this is some of Pere Ubu's most rawly experimental music in some time; for fans who want to feel like they're listening in on the band working out these songs instead of being presented a perfected product, there's a lot to love.

Ultimately, Animals is a compelling conversation between the creator and his psyche, his musicians, and listeners.

The performances are universally lively, often with dramatic shifts inside each piece.

After several years' worth of darker and more obviously thematic work like Playground in a Lake, Kiri Variations, and Daniel Isn't Real, it makes sense that he'd want to make something more eclectic and exploratory, and Sus Dog's exhilarating creativity is a testament to trusting the process.

Only Ron and Russell Mael could have made this album, and while they've always done what they needed and wanted to do as artists, it's extra satisfying that this peak in their popularity coincides with music this vibrantly engaging.

Some of Water from Your Eyes' most consistently gripping music, the cohesion of Everyone's Crushed lends a new vantage point on their music -- and it's an exciting one.

With guest spots from Margo Price, Billy Strings, Old Crow Medicine Show, Sierra Hull, Dan Tyminski, and Gillian Welch, Crooked Tree can feel a little busy, but the playing is reliably top-notch, and the songs, which approach trad-bluegrass themes from a female perspective, are both potent and timely.

Cave World is a world away from the band that recorded "Research Chemicals" or "Sports," and they've added some brain power without losing their strength.

Brandy Clark benefits from her songs being heard without the pleasing Nashville accouterments that decorated Big Day in a Small Town and Your Life Is a Record: in these spare settings, the emotional pull of her songs is undeniable.

My Soft Machine hits differently than Collapsed in Sunbeams, but it's still a powerful effort that packs more emotional weight while expanding the singer/songwriter's stylistic range.

With Villagers he's [Tim Rutili's] shown he's not out of interesting ideas and intriguing places to take them, even when he's letting the surfaces seem more engaging.

It's a concise debut album that, with the exception of a few tracks aided by either Biako or Andrew Lappin, McFerrin produced herself, and it also exhibits her range as a singer and lyricist.

The resulting work is at once loose and deeply complex, effortless in its incisiveness yet still dazzling at its peaks. The three bullions on the album’s cover say it best: this duo keep on producing gold.