Throughout, Spíra's soft, intricate arrangements, earnest vocals, and frequent minor modes give it a quality that's exquisite and haunting at once, making it an excellent entry point to an artist due for rediscovery.

A record that is just as impressively crafted as anything Prochet has done. That is high praise indeed, considering she's made some of the most inventive and pleasing neo-psychedelic adjacent albums of the previous decade or so.

Imaginational Anthem XIV: Ireland is yet another indispensible, high quality, revelatory missive from Ireland's bountiful guitar tradition.

The songs bleed together in a way that invites the record to be listened to from front to back, with Open Mike Eagle's existential metaphors and semi-abstract flows melting into an interconnected statement best experienced in its totality.

While some of Holy Island is danceable, some is dreamy, and some is pure atmosphere, these characteristics come together on the six-minute closer, "Morning Bell," which, with more crashing water sounds alongside footsteps and an actual bell, seems to leave us shipwrecked rather than safe in bed as we awaken from a dream.

It's a fantastic reminder of the side of GbV that's been underrepresented on some of their 2010s/2020s records: their ability to make fun, rambunctious rockers that are easy to sing along to.

It's defiantly a new kind of experience for the band, one that might surprise fans looking to this revival for kicks, but also one that will thrill anyone looking for a record that sounds like the most contrary, uncompromising, and flat-out punk thing possible in 2025.

Maybe he isn't always happy, but The Sherlock Holmes Rhythm 'n' Beat Vernacular will make you crack a big smile and stomp your feet.

Overall, Rebuilding is a winsome and rather wistful listen from a complementary pair of musicians who could certainly find their niche as occasional film composer

Balloon Balloon Balloon is pure pop music for now-and-then people, skillfully crafted from bits and bobs of the past, then melded together into a sound that is exactly what the smoothed-out, homogenous mid-2020s need.

Even grappling with mortality, De La Soul retain their eternal warmth and optimism on Cabin in the Sky, crafting a fun, jubilant set of tracks as they process deeper shades of reflection, thoughtfulness, and ultimately, acceptance.

He sounds freer than he has in years on Tranquilizer, and within its infinity mirror of transience and permanence, he uncovers the lasting soul within the digital abyss.

The shared lightness of touch among the producers suits Walker's uncommonly exquisite and authoritative voice. While she's still going through it, her artistic power remains undiminished.

It's not a grand-scale homage to Merle Haggard, but it comes from the heart and sounds like it was as pleasing to record as it is to hear.

This juxtaposition of soft-spoken self-examination and cathartic grunge is remarkably effective throughout the album.

FKA twigs may have already made 2025 her own with Eusexua, but Eusexua Afterglow is far from an afterthought.

The existence of all these already issued tracks makes this collection lean more towards the casual fan, though the more dedicated will probably want to hear the acoustic takes, instrumentals, overdub sessions, and rehearsals that make their official debut here. There are definitely enough quality rarities to make the duplication less painful.

The added brightness and clarity given to the songs is a nice upgrade, so is the more compact packaging. Is that enough to justify a repurchase? maybe. It definitely will appeal to Beatles fans who don't have the original versions and that seems like a very good reason for this set to exist.

There have been other Wings collections and they were fine; this double-disc does the best job of capturing all aspects of the band’s career. Anyone wanting to study pop music of the era should make this one of their first stops.

A thrilling glimpse into one of the pianist's most vital periods.

Their entire January 31 performance at hometown club First Avenue makes up half the collection, the rest is a grab bag of recordings made during the rest of the year. The former caught them on a good night for sure, it's hard to imagine another band of the time sounding as revolutionary and alive as the guys do here.

Chin Up Buttercup's opening trio of songs is as powerful as anything Austra has released.

Make no mistake: That's Showbiz Baby! is a must hear for any fan of euphoric, maximalist dance pop.

While nothing can compete with catalog classics Lungs or Ceremonials, Everybody Scream does come close, channeling the same energy and offering similar delights and thrills for the first time in a while.

The only song that seems to come from nowhere is the album ending "Wham Boom Bang," a jolly little knees up full of clarinets, cute guitar licks, and a saucy vocal from Zander. The rest of the album is Cheap Trick through and through, every song a reminder of how their past achievements were truly special, while at the same time letting everyone know they are still cranking out songs with all the manic energy, gleeful abandon, and pure pop songcraft they've embraced from the start.

Fearless, maximalist, and laden with emotion, Lux is a work worthy of both the Heavens and the Earth.

With EVERYONE'S A STAR!, they look back at their early years with an artful honesty, crafting a post-modern boyband album that's as sonically and thematically ambitious as it is fun.

The man has hits, but Baby is his apotheosis thus far.

The gentle push and pull between soft sounds and rich arrangements give the record just enough tension to keep it from drifting off into the clouds, and Sayeg knows just when to inject something interesting when eyelids begin to droop a bit.

Even more so than on the already impressive Small Medium Large, SML have mastered their own musical language with How You Been.

Their combination of on-point messaging, unyielding intensity, and wall-rattling musical power guarantees their future even as I'm Nice Now goes a long way to positioning them as the most important band of right now.

With a couple of exceptions, basically just the reggae and hip-hop songs, Buddhist Hipsters comes closest to recapturing the vibe of the Orb's prime work from the '90s than anything they've done in a while, making it one of their best efforts since Thomas Fehlmann left the group in 2017.

TBWPTH is skeletal, grandiose, and contemplative, a web of contradictions where answers come with questions of their own; caught between darkness and light, the U.K. legend wrings out some of his most compelling meditations yet.

The surplus of ambling ballads, especially during a stretch in the latter half that features the soft voices of Justin Vernon, Yebba, and Hynes, blurs the line between pleasantly languid and laborious. Near the end, there's a slight uptick in intensity.

Through the Open Window: The Bootleg Series Vol. 18, 1956-1963 is an epic-scale document on how Bob Dylan became Bob Dylan, both as a persona and an artist, and the abundant audience recordings of his early gigs that appear here are a vital reminder that bringing a recording device to a concert is never a bad idea.

Although the group's early period still packs in the most memorable moments, Night Light is a fine addition to their reliable late-era catalog that keeps it engaging, impeccably produced, and emotionally earnest.

Equally appropriate for heartbroken solitude, low-key hangouts, or peaceful Sunday afternoons, even at its most conflicted Small Talk feels like a warm embrace.

The resulting solo debut, Melt, shares some pillowy musical essence with the Marías but lands somewhere more intimate, introspective, and searching as well as even more dreamily atmospheric.

This music confirms the Mountain Goats have talent that's on par with their ambitions, and this album is a thoughtful, dramatically satisfying experience.

It's no surprise that Staples puts as much of herself into the rest of the songs. The selections span over 60 years, and in most cases suit Staples as much as those who first recorded them.

Mercy inventively illustrates grim situations and addresses serious, sometimes brutal subject matter in an engaging and intellectually stimulating way.

Cosplay ranks among Sorry's most vivid and exciting works, masterfully keeping all of its seething vocal lines, clashing instrumentation, and shattered glass melodies from imploding, just barely, but by perfect design.

Filled with highs, lows, and surprises, Liquorice eloquently expresses young love's volatility -- and makes for Hatchie's most consistent music since Keepsake.

Highlights like "Hadrian's Wall," "Loon," and the title track are gently mesmerizing, made even more special by Elkington's gorgeous arrangements which were said to be inspired by Ennio Morricone.

Their lushest and most spontaneous-feeling album yet, it takes a firmer step toward the dreamy rock side.

On an artistic level, at least, she is flourishing.

While Infinite doesn't eclipse any of Mobb Deep's classic recordings, it's a treat for fans and does not dilute the legacy.

With Tremor, Avery establishes a singular form of distortion-doused electronic rock which dwells in a nocturnal landscape, letting deep-seated emotions rise to the surface.

The deliberately pursued contemplative aesthetic might be too gentle or slow for some, but this saxophonist and his sidemen deliver a jazz masterclass for trios.

In addition to the standouts "Fast" and "Here All Night," the horny "Kiss" is a euphoric house escape that really solidifies this set as one of Lovato's best works.

For anyone expecting the cheeky fun of her 2000s gems, there's no mirth to be found here. It's purely righteous anger, biting sarcasm, and cutting barbs, all draped in pain and disappointment. The bloodletting is cathartic and unexpected, making this a surprising maturation that makes Allen as relatable as she's ever been.

This is less about hooks and more about mood. The mood is heavy and only begins to lift in the George Clinton-assisted finale. Miguel's voice remains a marvel, commanding enough to enliven substandard material.

Unbelievably, Shudall and Circa Waves have managed to expand and deepen what already felt like a complete emotional arc.

While each of these EPs stand on their own in quality, they create a rhythm orgy that is wildly musical and presented as a near symbiotic whole when combined.

Most longtime fans will be astonished by von Hausswolff's masterful developmental achievement, as well as the emotional and spiritual power, poetics, and musicality of Iconoclasts. For newcomers, this album presents a near perfect, accessible entry into her recordings.

The result is an album full of songs like "For the Girls" and "Many A Day A Heartache" that come across like best case scenarios for what one have hoped that the band might sound like someday, blending together elements of all their eras to end up with a powerful rock & roll sound, while the ballads, especially the album ending "Everything Now", have an emotional depth that feels earned.

Again's relatively more streamlined indie rock and reflective sensibility may set it apart from their previous work more than any studio varnish, although it all works together to take a more consistent step forward on their proper label debut.

Like any of rousay's other releases, a little death is a homemade portrait, incorporating sounds from her life and her friends into earnest, personal work.

Not too many other bands working this side of the guitar rock street are able to bundle together hooks and heart, noise, and melody quite as well as White Reaper do on Only Slightly Empty.

Wasner's music has always felt reflective, but these songs take introspection to a new level and showcase her voice both as a writer and singer. Good art doesn't have to come from darkness, but songs like "Not Yet Free" and "River in My Arms" are proof that riches await on the other side of a crucible.

All of Touch reflects the curiosity that has driven Tortoise since the beginning -- and still drives them all these years later.

Describe contains some of Jadagu's most personal songwriting, while the arrangements show that she's constantly looking to push her sound forward.

With its comparatively restrained approach only reasserting Carlile's gifts as a confident, compassionate, and sympathetic communicator, Returning to Myself offers an equally compelling edition of the musician that may appeal to new, less country-inclined fans.

With the exception of a few clunkers, this disjointed flow becomes a defining characteristic of Love Chant. There’s a sense throughout that Dando is now comfortable enough with himself to take all the time he needs to explore weird ideas and decide where they start and end. That embrace of his own artistic whims is admirable, as is his choice to tread new ground rather than try to re-create his most successful work from the past.

The whole record is a wonderfully triumphant moment for Lawrence, and if it gains him some new fans -- as it just might -- that's great because the world needs odd-duck pop stars, and he certainly fits that bill.

That Wasn't a Dream is an unexpected, welcome surprise. Its ambitious tonal, textural, and harmonic palettes are intricately tied in a series of sonically sophisticated compositions reflecting the endless possibilities for 21st century jazz in improvisation, aesthetic inclusion, and production.

It's like the two musicians are navigating their way through the wilderness without knowing where they're headed, yet once they finally get there, they backtrack and trace a logical path so that it seems like they knew what they were doing the entire time.

LOTTO is disorienting and messy, but there's undoubtedly something real and honest about it.

A song like "Maelstrom" lets loose with a thundering bass drum and more-distant syncopated snare. For the most part, though, tracks levitate above ground along webs of acoustic guitar, piano, layered vocals, and atmospheric shimmer to the point where it's sometimes difficult to distinguish one song from another.

Equally poised and unpredictable, Some Like It Hot's poetic, mischievous, raucous, and heartbroken songs come close to a definitive statement from a band in constant motion.

Virtually every element, whether played or programmed, is in service to Parks' sybaritic visions, and they all stimulate movement free from restraint.

His thoughtful pacing doles out thrilling moments worth waiting for, while the slower segments allow for the energy to build again.

These are all big-hearted songs dreamed up in small rooms, and painted in bold Broadway strokes.

While there are some faint echoes of that personality and complexity on UY SCUTI, the essence of what made him so special is largely lost in a clutter of disconnected or only partially realized ideas.

He delivers a modern jazz recording constructed from sounds, strategies, and sonorities collected across his decades-long career and uses them to create something bracingly different.

As always, Pollock's rich and deeply resonant songwriting is elevated by sweeping chamber pop arrangements and the emotionally attuned production of her husband and ex-Delgados drummer, Paul Savage.

Where Revealer occasionally spilled into showy musical prowess, Ace finds balance and takes Cunningham's art to the next level.

Geese at their most chaotic, delivering an assured yet jarring set of no wave-tinged art-rock missives -- "Trinidad," "Cobra," and "Taxes" -- that are as unnerving as they are affecting.

The Cords LP easily lives up to the hype. .... With the charm factor at 11, plenty of bah-bah-bahs, and a couple early-Beatles harmonics thrown in for good measure, The Cords is an all-ages bop fest that welcomes everyone but the creeps, poseurs, and haters.

So far, Liminal is the strangest of the Wolfe/Eno collaborative efforts, playing around with sonics and textures while still retaining an air of familiarity.

Even at over three hours, Disquiet holds together exceptionally well, from idea to execution, in a spontaneous, otherworldly flow.

Corporal is a stunning reinvention for the duo that will please those who like their psychedelia spiked with unhealthy amounts of real danger and devil may care sonic experimentation.

This doesn't sound much like anything Miller has released in the past, and that only adds to its power; this is a chronicle of a man pondering an uncertain future with both courage and trepidation, and A Lifetime of Riding by Night is the most powerful solo effort he's ever made.

Ultimately, 40 is a delightful way to sum up the career of a band that's been constantly surprising and surprisingly constant for far longer than a band has the right to.

Throughout its first ten tracks, Fatal Optimist offers occasional philosophical gems, like "Sometimes a good thing can break you/Sometimes a bad thing can save you" from "Good Lair," a song that also wonders, "Is it really that bad to cover up the sad?"

On I Barely Know Her, the 20-year-old star takes a magnetic first step.

The back and forth between quiet and loud numbers softens the focus of this music, and Bleeds doesn't have quite the same cumulative impact as Rat Saw God. That said, Bleeds is a ferocious, sometimes deeply moving collection of songs, confirming the strength of the music and revealing Hartzman's continued growth as a songwriter.

No Hard Feelings holds together perhaps even better than Blame My Ex, and there's a sense that the Beaches, who were in their early teens when they started out, are maturing into themselves and gaining a road-tested swagger. Yet they still know how to have fun.

This is a couple cuts above her promising debut.

Frost Children take less risks with style and production on SISTER, but they turn in a well-oiled and high-potency set of songs that are more accessible than outlandish, designed for both dancefloor nostalgia and memories yet to be made.

The cascades of noise and occasional glowing chamber sounds almost serve as a wordless balancing element to lyrics that can feel fatalistic, even if they're just accurate assessments of where the world is at present.

SickElixir is the most challenging listen in Blawan's catalog, which makes it all the more unexpected that it's his first album for such a high-profile label, but it still contains some fascinating material.

Not for Lack of Trying is a gorgeously subtle, often transfixing album.

Belong is full of lyrics about being on the outside looking in, a perspective that gives context to its skillful mix of angsty and dreamy textures.

Nobody's Girl is sometimes tough to listen to as Shires pulls no lyrical punches, but it's never less than compelling, fearless, and brilliantly crafted. As an act of musical exorcism, it's breathtaking.

Lullaby for the Lost is the album made possible by a decade's worth of soul searching, and McCaslin's increasingly idiosyncratic, boundary-less, and masterful approach to modern jazz.

Songbird doesn't tell us much new about Waylon Jennings, but it reaffirms that he was one of the strongest and most compelling country singers of his generation, and this is a welcome gift for fans who wish there was another fine 1970s Waylon Jennings album they'd never heard.

There’s some of that familiar production magic [of Max Martin and Shellback] in the instantaneous disco-pop hooks of “Wood” or the classic Swiftie melodic sensibilities and sonic detailing of “Opalite,” but nothing comes close to the poreless candyshell immediacy of “Bad Blood” or the undeniable catchiness of “We Are Never Getting Back Together.” Instead, these songs choose a more refined approach that’s slower to take hold but makes an impact nonetheless.