Celebration Rock could arguably lack the powerful impact of the first record. Still, it's a hell of lot of fun.

Holistic in breadth and deep in vision, it provides a way into this music for many, and challenges the cultural conversation about jazz without compromising or pandering.

Projector is an impressive debut and all-around solid effort from a band at the start of a promising career.

By the Fire isn't a drastic shift, but as Moore goes deeper into the sounds he's been exploring for decades, he uncovers new magic.

Furling never feels like a mixed bag, primarily due to the control with which she moves through her songs. The softer acoustic folk tunes and heavier, more far-reaching dives into piano and densely stacked arrangement all feel like similar parts of a whole, and the album flutters by beautifully like an unbothered mind wandering through various thoughts on a sunny day.

If Sarah Shook has evolved a bit as a person on Nightroamer, as an artist they're as articulate, as fearless, and as smart as ever.

Return of the Ankh is a relief in that Badu does not attempt to trump herself with a set that is even more intense and powerful than its predecessor.

All the added instrumental layering and effects -- wriggling synthesizers, buzzing basslines, ricocheting percussion, apparition-like vocal processing, and suchlike -- are nuanced, not once getting in the way of a musician who can put forth an affecting message with just her voice and violin.

Even if King winds up returning to his familiar slick, star-studded sound somewhere down the line, having an album as earthily elegant as One Kind Favor in his canon provides a fitting coda for one of the great musical careers of the 20th century.

Compared to most releases of its kind, Nostalgia, Ultra is plotted with care, not slapped together with haste.

Just good old-fashioned hard rock that's guilt free and easy to love.

Individually and together, these records are as potent, squalling, and beautiful as when they were issued.

Heavenly have done a fine job of delivering what their fans might expect -- indie pop at its finest -- with enough curveballs, gentle bite, and brilliant songs to make it sound 100% brand new, exciting, and impossible to write off as just another nostalgia trip.

Harmonicraft finds Torche taking off at full speed with an album packed full of driving riffs and soaring melody that's going to have an easy time convincing fans that the band hasn't lost a step after losing a member.

There’s a stillness throughout Laughter in the Summer, a mood that can sometimes read as somber. The overarching feeling in these songs, however, is one of beaming gratitude, and that keeps the album feeling less like an expression of mourning and more a slow-moving outpouring of joy and acceptance.

The delicate acoustic closer "Stick Man Test" makes the entire journey end up feeling more like a soundtrack than a standard album.

Certainly, these are great songs, all of them from Autechre's melodic early-'90s heyday, but Parish casts them in new light with his own artistry in a unique and unexpected collaboration.

The sound is terrific, the presentation is handsome, the sound and selection are amazing; and negotiations with musicians are not done on colonial terms.

On Aviary, Holter answers the chaos of 21st century life by following her bliss; the results are a constellation of moments that celebrate the fullness of her music and, as always, make for fascinating listening.

A striking beginning to this chapter of Barratt's career, Crooked Man bears the stamp of artistic confidence that takes years to develop.

The intimacy and raw beauty of Live at the Cellar Door makes it not just a must for super fans, but a valuable companion piece to any of Young's early studio output.

Fans of the group more interested in songs might feel short changed at first, but further listens only intensify the cohesive power and pocket grandeur of the record.

It might take a few listens or views to wrap one's head around what Angine de Poitrine are doing, but their music is actually a lot more accessible than it may seem at first, and their second effort is an incredibly fun record.

All this adds up to another midlife triumph from Mould, a record that harks back to his past while completely occupying the present moment, no matter how uncomfortable or painful that may be.

Cathartic and wrecked, Turn Out the Lights is the type of album that will be uncommonly relatable to some and unbearable to others. For those who are receptive, the songwriter's ferocious authenticity connects in spite of, rather than in concert with, the more dramatic accompaniment here.

On The Bible, Kurt Wagner bravely steps into new territory both musically and lyrically, and it's a beautiful and frequently moving experience.

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.

Packed with great songs and performances, it re-establishes Golightly as a beacon of grace and restraint in a world sadly bereft of both.

The icing on the cake is in the little details.

HEAVN was expanded and reissued a year later by Jagjaguwar, made available on physical formats with a track list that added six interludes and a thick reprise of "Holy." The interludes, especially the one in which children recite an Assata Shakur quote--inserted as a brilliant setup for "Blk Grl Soldier"--are not extraneous.

With his often muted horn and inclination toward long, extended phrases, Scott feels as much like a vocalist as he does a trumpeter. It's a sound contrasted nicely by his bandmates Cook and Pinderhughes, who accent what are often purposefully pixelated grooves with soulful, harmonically nuanced improvisations.

The clarity of the remastering on The End of Radio makes this a must for fans of Shellac. It would be nice if we could get another live set from this trio that was recorded less than 15 years ago, yet as an artifact of the Live Shellac Experience and a sincere tribute to fallen comrades, this is as good as you could hope for.

Subtlety is her strength and that skill is still evident in her witty, elegant turns of phrase, but the distinguishing characteristic of Your Life Is a Record is warmth. From its enveloping sound to its empathetic tales, the album feels openhearted and comforting, a sensibility that helps the record seem charmingly out of step with the times.

Free Energy sounds like the work of a band tapping into the well of creativity at its source and coming up with a work that gently and gracefully slides the group up one notch closer to their heroes.

Because of the material's quality and the inspired collaboration between songwriter, performers, and producer, July unfolds as a near-perfect song cycle.

A unified, deliberate, and conscious work.

It's compelling stuff, and Combs imbues all of his characters, no matter how lost they may be, with humanity and humor, and it's that knowing nod to vagabond life that makes Canyons of My Mind so easy to get lost in.

The songs on Us are long--most track in past four minutes--and the album can start to drag during some of the later verses, but as a statement on the health of hip-hop, it's an assured yes that all is well.

Gwenno is firmly in charge of her sound and presentation from the beginning, and Y Dydd Olaf is wonderfully assured throughout.

Given how fickle Bemis perceives some of his fans, changing up the formula so drastically is a bold move on his part, but it's one that ultimately pays off, making the album a creative high point capable of spawning enough critical debate to fuel a lifetime of Say Anything albums.

The smaller Guggenheim portion, served up in smaller doses, decreases the tension only slightly on Clark's most exhilarating work yet.

Co-produced by the band and Juan Urteaga (Cattle Decapitation, Machine Head), Titans of Creation is as savage as it is meticulously rendered; born of the wisdom of age and rage.

Biting the hand that feeds is one of punk's great traditions, and it's a relief to find Pup's shambling spirit unsullied by their present status.

Cruel Country, however, feels as unified and well plotted as anything in Wilco's catalog, and it's deeply moving, powerfully heartfelt music from a handful of gifted players serving their songs beautifully.

All this serves to underscore that My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky is a mercilessly intense and beautiful record that only Swans could pull off, and that no matter who plays in the band, Gira was and is Swans: their sound, their musical and poetic vision, their heartbeat.

Hinterland's tough, hard-won beauty reveals Campbell coming into her own.

This is a celebration, both of the group's past and its inspired present, and that is more than enough to make this a worthwhile live album.

Unlike many lost albums of demos or unreleased recordings, Beautiful Despair actually stands alone as a really good, sometimes great TVPs album, and that's down to Head's recording and Treacy's reliably weird and wonderful songs.

As alluring and dreamlike as anything from Willner's first two full-lengths.

Upon the first listen, The Bright Mississippi merely seems like a joyous good time, but subsequent spins focus attention on just how rich and multi-layered this wonderful music is.

The Odds shows The Evens as more refined and understated than ever. Instead of softening, their jagged angles and obtuse political commentary have just become more involved, and in some ways, more intense.

If you think that the "rock" part of "indie rock" has been dying a slow death, look to Screaming Females as your lighthouse during these dark, guitar-less times and rejoice as you air shred along with all that Ugly has to offer.

Harry's House is what happens when Styles steps out of the spotlight to live his life. And despite the fact that there's nothing as immortal as "Watermelon Sugar" to be found, this album, as a whole, has solid bones and is sturdy enough to last.

Food & Liquor just might be the steadiest and most compelling rap album of 2006.

The Riverboat Gamblers have shown they can evolve without losing the plot, and if The Wolf You Feed isn't their best album, it's smart, ambitious, and rocks with authority, sounding fresh and exciting in ways you might not have expected.

This young band delivers well-written and unapologetically retro pop/rock; that said, their enthusiastic delivery and clever arrangements are decisively modern.

Like Stateless, New Bodies is vibrant and refreshing, brimming with ideas but never seeming overwrought, and challenging without being too esoteric or off-putting.

Look Now is the work of a man with enough talent to take his muse in any direction he pleases and give us something memorable.

With Sharon Van Etten & the Attachment Theory, the singer/songwriter fully embraces an icy, mechanical post-punk palette, one that still incorporates elements of guitar rock (and is part analog) but is distinguished by drum machines, eerie synths, and prevailing electronics. It's a sound that's well-suited to the album's anxious and alienated songs.

Certainly, this album feels richer than previous Hurray for the Riff Raff records, which all benefitted from the stripped-down aesthetic that often signifies authenticity in Americana, but this broadening of Segarra's scope hardly constitutes pandering.

Real Animal is an album about life--both as survival and as the faces and moments that fill our days on this Earth. How many artists could make two masterpieces in a row that are so different?

Prima Donna is an essential snapshot of 2016 that bears witness to the evolution of an artist coming into his own with an unflinching, socially conscious perspective.

It's probably premature to call Dose Your Dreams Fucked Up's masterpiece, but most bands would be very lucky to make something this daring and accomplished once in their careers, let alone twice.

While Old often seems like a hip-hop kaleidoscope exploding across the speakers, it's also crafted and paced, split down the middle like a great LP with a sure start and a freeing finish.

Though they've branched out over the years with plenty of success, El Mirador shows their roots are as strong as ever.

A set of delightfully askew R&B.

I Hate Music is just as fresh and powerful as Majesty Shredding, with the same hook-driven songs, fiery performances, and stunning vocals from Mac McCaughan.

It is simultaneously inward and explosive, a record that demands close listening and certainly rewards the attention.

This is one pleasant and pleasing surprise.

Trust in the Lifeforce of the Deep Mystery is urgent, sophisticated, and humorous. It actually delivers the music of tomorrow via the traditions of past and present; it's a convulsive exercise in the articulation of inner and outer space.

Mavis Staples and Levon Helm were two artists who were also friends and admirers, and they knew how to bring out the best in one another, and that's exactly what they do on Carry Me Home, and it's a thing of beauty to witness.

Like a more pastoral variation on Joni Mitchell's Blue, the reduced volume on Like The River Loves The Sea gives the music strength, not fragility, and this is Joan Shelley's best work to date. Turns out that trip to Reykjavik was a wise investment.

Game Theory is a heavy album, the Roots' sharpest work. It's destined to become one of Def Jam's proudest, if not most popular, moments.

Pawn Shop never dwells on such contradictions. It rolls along, easing from funky little workouts to immaculate ballads, the duo benefitting from a heightened sense of craft aided in part by the collaborations of such pro songsmiths as Craig Wiseman, Barry Dean, and Shane McAnally.

Glover is fearless and definitely not afraid to fall flat in the quest for something new or real. 3.15.20 is both of those things and is the second classic, timeless and timely Childish Gambino record in a row.

A Color of the Sky trades immediacy for intentionality. The album at times brings to mind the slow-moving immersive sound worlds of bands like Low, Talk Talk, and Mazzy Star, with Lightning Bug again expanding on familiar inspirations to craft an intricate and beautiful personal expression, only softer.

Lines aimed at authority, competition, and bottom feeders all shoot clean through.

Despite a radical switch from digital to analog gear, the album is as bleak and as bracing as Luxury Problems.

Isolation Drills sounds like the real rock album GBV have always wanted to make...

Both strong and vulnerable, I Don't Want to Let You Down is a concise and angst-packed set delivered with emphasis in all the right places.

Sorrow is a radical reinterpretation, but it should be accessible to many. Stetson delivers an acute, wider, deeper hearing of Górecki's symphony as a powerful, beautiful, musically diverse meditation on unspeakable loss.

While there might not be quite as many essential tracks here as on the other Switched On volumes, Electrically Possessed is a reminder that Stereolab were releasing so much good music that it was easy to take it for granted at the time, and it's well worth a listen for fans who may have missed or glossed over these songs when they were first released.

The steps forward on Cotton Crown are subtle but undeniable, with the Tubs' vision growing clearer through these increasingly enjoyable and well-crafted songs.

Dylan is in mostly excellent form--even when sloppy; it sounds like he's having the time of his life.

With Playing Favorites, Sheer Mag have made an excellent rock & roll album, and yes, sometimes that is all you need.

The overall effect is that this is one of the Streisand albums most appealing to her fans and her potential fans--which includes nearly everyone who appreciates a singer singing like she's lived every line of her songs.

The result is a more coherent set of tunes that don't veer far from Hovvdy's established ruminative demeanor.

Sincerely is best experienced from front to back. After the first seven songs lightly splash and bob while Uchis sings of gratitude, devotion, and self-doubt, song eight, "Fall Apart," delivers a knockout blow of heavy psychedelic soul.

Managing to be uniquely stylized and engrossing while stripped bare, Whole New Mess not only works in isolation, it deserves equal footing in Olsen's discography.

Stunning, and at 17 tracks, surprisingly solid.

His idiosyncratic, mumbled vocal delivery might occasionally make understanding the lyrics a bit of a challenge, but it's also one of his unique distinctions and with The Party, he's added another strong outing to his canon.

The whole affair plays like the listener is eavesdropping on Prince creating, and there simply can't be a reissue more valuable than that.

Contradictions are nothing new for Jack White but he's never been as emotionally direct as he is here, nor has he been as musically evasive, and that dichotomy makes Blunderbuss a record that only seems richer with increased exposure.

Comradely Objects seems like some of the most complex, demanding music Horse Lords have made, yet, amazingly, it's also their most danceable album.

They'll change your life.

Including Light Upon the Lake's one jaunty instrumental ("Red Moon"), the 30-minute set of ten tunes will leave many wanting more, an auspicious trait for an otherwise satisfying debut.

Far from being a bold reinvention, a Beatles album for the 21st century, the Martins didn't go far enough in their mash-ups.

His slight adjustments and increased restraint make this his most accessible and creative release yet.