Feel Flows moves the microscope over to one of the group's more interesting and quietly transformative phases, a curious time when their hopes to remain culturally relevant lived alongside some of their most inspired songwriting moments, and an earnest desire to grow artistically.

There's a lot of subtlety here and it might take a number of listens to fully appreciate Lost Futures' peculiar spread of dynamics. But, like any grower, its slow revelation is part of its charm.

The songs jump from pounding metal excursions to tightly wound modern rock to synthy weirdness, each one ripping cleanly through the speakers with nary a ragged edge or stray shard of feedback. Take any track and let the guitars loose, add some unhinged drumming, do some howling instead of harmonizing, and almost every song would be vintage Segall. Wrapped up tightly in slick modern clothes, they are something new. ... Harmonizer is an exciting and intriguing addition to his bursting-at-the-seams discography.

In subtle ways, this album ties together all of the various disciplines Gunn has previously explored, from American primitive guitar playing to jazz, folk, indie rock, and drone music. Yet it is also something entirely new with a unique sound that is a joy to spend time with.

Not only is Screen Violence Chvrches’ finest work since The Bones of What You Believe, it’s also their most purposeful. It feels like they took stock of who they want to be and what they want to say, and these epic songs about letting go but holding onto the ability to feel make for a stunning creative rebirth.

It's raw and fearless, and just as the earliest Nite Jewel albums quietly set the course for entire musical movements of their time, it wouldn't be surprising if No Sun helped usher in a new era of forward-moving conceptual pop.

While How Long Do You Think It's Gonna Last?'s mellow poignancy is likely to stick more than any of its songs; its pathos is genuine and immersive.

With Reznor and Ross supporting such a weighty artistic vision, Halsey takes a huge leap forward with this course-changing opus, a revelation that finally presents their most authentic representation of self.

The follow-up delves into dysfunctional relationships, death, and despair with a more polished yet still hooky, jagged indie rock co-produced by De Souza and Brad Cook (Bon Iver, Waxahatchee).

Its brevity means that The Ballad of Dood & Juanita can initially seem a bit slight, yet it's ultimately quite sturdy, an album that gains its strength from Simpson's dogged dedication to the concept -- there's nothing extraneous in his songs here -- and the impeccable execution of the band.

If you're riding and vibing with Lorde, this bright shapelessness is superb mood music. If you're not riding her wave, Solar Power can seem elusive, even cloying, as it circles and sways with a smile.

Tracks like "Clash," "War," and "Bomb" all maintain battle imagery, in multiple senses (musical, political, personal), and Fire as a whole is steadfast in its fury and perseverance.

The Old Fabled River is a moving and inspired collection that followers of both folk and experimental music will find greatly rewarding.

It's a unique document of reflections a time that felt suspended, and at points its sadly beautiful atmospheres feel outside of time completely.

Clocking in at a very 1950s 25 minutes, Encore doesn't feel like a major event and it doesn't add a great deal to the Wanda Jackson story, but it's a welcome reminder that the first truly great female rocker is still among us and hasn't surrendered to time, changing tastes, or the music business. Encore confirms that Wanda Jackson is still Wanda Jackson, and that's no small feat.

As a whole, the album doesn't provide a lot sonically that fans haven't heard before, but it doesn't need to because WITTR have created their most uneasy balance of brute force, massive power, and brooding, trepidatious calm to date.

Still Slipping, Vol. 1 isn't the type of release that an artist would be likely to make at the beginning of their career. It's a labor of love requiring extensive reflection about how music and family have impacted one's life.

The end result is vast and ambitious yet deliberately welcoming. Its many sounds and rhythms greet listeners wherever they are and compel them to invest in an altogether wondrous sonic journey for body, mind, and soul.

Year of the Spider is the work of four musicians who are not content to be goofballs -- they can maintain their creative vision while making more of it, and it's a great step forward for a band that's becoming deeper and more satisfying than one might have expected.

Try It... You Might Like It! is a stellar second effort from GA-20. They get the spirit and the sound right here in delivering enough sweaty, raucous, grooves to fuel a rent party all night long.

His work is full of the messy energy and surprising turns of a life lived hard, and on The Horses and the Hounds, the music speaks as vividly as his excellent songs. Not many artists pushing 60 get to deliver as satisfying a breakthrough as this one.

Featuring a distinctly intimate, shadowy, surf-infused sound, Everything may be dimly lit and occasionally grief-stricken, but it avoids being persistently maudlin.

The songs on Saturday Night, Sunday Morning are the kind you could easily see getting placed in the background of TV shows or used in commercials. Taken on their own, these are fine songs and Bugg's reedy alto is showcased to nice effect throughout.

It's a sound that demands your surrender, which you don't mind giving in to.

Infinite Granite is a transitional record, but it's an enormously pretty one, and it suggests that their directional shift is an excellent idea that warrants further exploration.

Pain and solace are the twin poles that guide these songs, and Wainwright's vocals capture a wealth of emotional detail; sounding a bit like Kate Bush without the comfort of fantasy to protect her, Wainwright rides over the melodies with a bold willingness to venture into the unexpected, and the dynamics of her voice as it weaves around the atmospheric arrangements is truly remarkable.

For those on board with the group's flagrant disregard for conventional songwriting, Deep States is willing to descend even further down the rabbit hole, with the band offering a good time despite all the twists and turns.

Stylistically in line with The Baby, Scout serves as an understated addendum that packs a sentimental punch.

Refuge sounds composed, thoughtful, and intimate, with reflections on pain, grief, acceptance, and relief coming through in the character of the album's varied atmospheres.

For the most part, it's a continuation of what the giants have done over the preceding several years with the likes of Dave Hollister, Johnny Gill, and Peabo Bryson: compositionally rock-solid adult contemporary R&B with an emphasis on ballads and slow jams. And, as always, the songs are tailor-made for the singers.

Jungle are at their most elevated throughout Loving in Stereo, in terms of both creativity and the general tone of the album. The songs are exploratory and fun, exuding energy and positivity and resulting in some of the group's best work to date.

At times, American Noir sounds like the product of an undead E Street Band, like a strong line of thunderstorms suddenly appearing above "highways jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive."

An album that fulfills the promise Aalegra showed on Feels and Ugh, Those Feels Again.

A frequently lovely album born out of introspection and loss, Love Drips and Gathers captures the complex ways life and music change while upholding Piroshka's musical legacy.

Where Chorusing excels, however, is on experimental-leaning tracks best represented here by "Watching the Beams" and "Billowing," which affect with a distorted mix of organic and inorganic textures alongside more of the album's melancholic folk song.

This would be an impressive first salvo from a new artist, and coming from a seasoned veteran, it's a truly welcome sign that her creative well isn't about to run dry.

This matured focus on concept and mood saves the album from becoming an odd catalog misstep, serving instead as a dignified artistic exercise that rewards the band's bravery by becoming the most heartfelt and poignant statement of their careers.

Not only has she written an engaging set of songs, but they are played and captured with gusto.

Detour de Force is a thoughtfully constructed album with songs that reveal the group's continued knack for balancing intimate, often humorous personal sentiments with more anthemic feel-good moments.

While THIB is a back-to-front vibe and an intriguing experiment for Zay's mellowed-out sound, it's one that's still negotiating its own limits.

A reinvigorated return, The Apple Drop shows that Liars can still reinvent their music and surprise listeners as they close out their second decade.

Presenting raw emotion and over-the-top braggadocio with such exacting balance is part of IDK's talent, and he delivers on USEE4YOURSELF like never before.

Delivering on the promise of her industry-shaking debut with confidence and grace, Happier Than Ever has the markings of a big career moment, one that signals artistic growth and hints at even more greatness to come.

It's not a buried gem or a return to form but a snapshot of an excellent musician having a pretty good run in the studio.

With Heart-Shaped Scars, she's found a home in sparse and spooky folk. Possibly not something one could have predicted when she first arrived on the scene with One Dove, but something that is satisfying and true all the same.

Aptly named, Ultrapop administers a constant barrage of sonic information that shows no delineation between discomfort, reassurance, pain, or pleasure.

Dave makes a potent second statement. His first steps outside of PSYCHODRAMA's concrete sphere of influence continue to cement his generational talent.

Native Sons is a tribute that manages to be more than a set of covers -- it shows what the band learned from these songs, as well as showing us where their long musical journey has taken them. It's essential listening from one of America's greatest bands.

Thirstier's confidence and optimism arrived when listeners in the early 2020s were hungry for both. If making her music as big and loud as it is here is what it takes to get people to realize what they've been missing with her music, then Thirstier is a wild success.

Stand for Myself is a stunner with plenty of emotional firepower, but it can also feel soft as a wool blanket.

As on Union, Electro Melodier sounds more like the work of a commentator than an activist, but he has something to say and he says it with intelligence and eloquence, and as his hero Woody Guthrie proved ages ago, that's no small thing.

More mature than either Strange Desire or Gone Now but just as life-affirming, Take the Sadness Out of Saturday Night is a refreshingly different perspective on Bleachers and a heartfelt soundtrack to millennial midlife crises.

None of the Indications' contemporaries have put together a set as distinctly purpose-built and delightful as this one.

Only on a couple occasions does Bridges let loose a touch while in the moment. ... Even in those moments, there is never an indication that Bridges could possibly lose his composure. The unswerving self-control he has demonstrated across three albums both impresses and mystifies.

Triage finds Rodney Crowell wearing his heart on his sleeve, and it's a heart that's open and unafraid of life and its challenges. It's a compelling and absorbing work from one of America's best working songwriters.

With friends and collaborators surgically removed, Faith is littered with jarring voices, avaricious creative decisions, and a fundamental sidelining of its visionary figurehead.

While this is a loving tribute to Frank Navetta (who died in 2008), if you were hoping for more of the subtle but genuine forward growth the band has shown on later-day albums like Cool to Be You and Hypercaffium Spazzinate, what you get instead is a journey into the past, with all the good and bad that phrase implies.

"Moonstar" has a country-rock air in its nearly spoken word verse not to mention its harmonica break, "Look What You've Done" is given a sleek New Wave gloss, and "Sound of My Voice" bops along on a rhythm reminiscent of the Strokes' "Last Night." These mild departures are highlights, but Texas deliver their signature pop-soul with precision and style on the rest of Hi, offering the familiar while never quite sounding stiff.

It's exceedingly rare for a band to come back after decades away and make something that measures up to what they were doing when they left off. Scientists have done that on Negativity, and that's something to celebrate.

Sob Rock is a pleasant album whose thematic '80s affections add some stylistic flair to Mayer's laid-back songs.

While coming off somewhat like a late-period album by a vocal-era star, the performances and material on Romantic Images still have the goods.

Change's artful, heartfelt expressions of frustration and hope aren't just perfect for the transformative time in which they appeared, they're also an exciting and satisfying reintroduction to Anika the solo artist.

Crosby hints at his folkier origins without dispensing with the musical elasticity that characterized the rest of For Free, an expansion that serves as a gentle reminder that Crosby is in the midst of the longest sustained burst of creativity in his entire career.

It's a new and fantastic chapter in an ongoing body of uncontainable work, one where Birgy has never hesitated to dive into her own psyche and wrestle what she finds there back up to the surface for all to see.

It's one of those rare albums where dropping the needle at different spots in the same song would yield wildly different sounds, but every move is so gradual and well thought out that the wild changes and potentially jarring clashes blend into one another seamlessly.

The result is a crisp, concise package -- a bundle of summer anthems with the vivid emotions of summertime passion.

In sum, it doesn't displace or replace the original, but adds immeasurably to its meaning and dimension.

Total absorption reveals that this is simply part of Sault's ever-expanding and increasingly colorful tapestry, no slapdash addendum.

This easygoing, smooth, and poppy record stands tall next to their finest work and only comes up a little short because it lacks the one or two killer songs that make their best albums really pop. Still, it's a nice addition to their catalog and perfect for fans of loud but not too loud, wild but not too wild, modern rock & roll.

["Grow"] is worth the price of admission alone, but the rest of this brief set is such an unexpected surprise that it's worth the nearly half-hour investment. There seems to be nothing that Willow can't do as she adds rock to her résumé with ease.

Captaining the expected band of L.A. studio stalwarts with easy grace, it's an album full of strong performances, few missteps, and the weary charisma that has been one of the singer's hallmarks.

Song for song, Hologram is a highly concentrated dose of all of A Place to Bury Strangers' strengths and a welcome return.

Hotel Surrender is a testament to Murphy's skills as an artist and his attitude as a person.

His craft is far too strong to regard these as throwaways, and the intimacy of the home-recorded production and performances is a fine match for the material. Jump for Joy never suggests Louris intends this to be a grand statement or his break with the Jayhawks, but it serves him well, and hopefully he won't wait 12 years before he tries this again.

Longtime fans need not fear that Shomo has gone too mainstream, as evidenced by ragers like "Dominate," "Phantom Pain," and "Hell of It," which pack enough of a punch to keep the mosh pits bruised and bloody. Combining those catchy flourishes with the band's trademark heaviness creates a great balance, and Below winds up being one of Beartooth's most enjoyable and immediate releases to date.

It continues his measured progression as a stylist of mellow pop songs with soul that articulate pensive self-awareness and a level of empathy best summarized in "Spinner": "I just wanna spin the truth about the ones I care about/All in the name of sufferin', but I'll see this through."

Solid Gold U-Roy is a fittingly triumphant final act from an artist who dedicated his life to the advancement of art. It's at once traditional and futuristic, returning to some of U-Roy's past victories and somehow rendering them even brighter and more invigorating.

While melodies are largely stagnant on Sling, and lyrics swing between grievance and self-realization (occasional stand-out turns of phrase include the opening lyrics, "I'm stepping inside a universe designed against my own beauties"), the album's ruminative internal atmospheres are its defining -- and likely haunting -- strength.

Though the set feels somewhat sleepy upon first listen, repeat visits reward listeners with Staples' depth and wit, cementing Vince Staples as a simple yet focused statement from one of the West Coast's most relevant voices.

Forest of Your Problems is unlikely to win over anyone not already sold on their particularly odd formula, but there is something admirable about the continuation of their off-kilter approach, making this record a victory lap for their existing fan base and a promise that the rhythms won't stop anytime soon.

While Ty Dolla $ign's street gospel support on the title song is a fine match, H.E.R. more often is too accommodating, most so on the Lil Baby meeting "Find a Way," where she drops de rigueur references to her bag, haters, and one of rap's most popular luxury cars. On a more discreet level, however, "Bloody Waters" -- a heady Kaytranada production tricked out with a delectable Thundercat bassline -- is a brilliant sequel of sorts to her Academy Award-winning "Fight for You."

At the Gates have been at the fore of the Scandinavian death metal scene since the early '90s -- Terminal Spirit Disease and Slaughter of the Soul are seminal works -- and the dark and inventive Nightmare of Being should ensure that they remain there.

It's a wounded if proud and defiant response that draws from vintage high-tech R&B and art pop -- the 1982-1987 era with greatest frequency -- with all sharp edges melted off.

Unlike their first two albums, which landed high on the breeziness scale, Mirror II is a tougher listen. It's clear that the band want to grow and expand their musical horizons but less clear that they are able to do that successfully. That being said, ultimately there is enough craft to the songwriting, energetic verve in the performances, and painful truth in the lyrics that the album is worth listening to, and the band is worth sticking with if only to see where they go from here.

While Half Waif's cinematic, keyboard-based atmospheres have generally expanded with each album to this point, they reach another level of vibrancy and drama on their fifth album, Mythopoetics. Partly written by project leader Nandi Rose during the COVID-19 outbreak -- its predecessor, The Caretaker, was released in March 2020 as much of the U.S. was locking down -- it adopts a less familial, more philosophical outlook while remaining distinctly personal.

Treasure of Love isn't a pathbreaking masterpiece for the Flatlanders, but that's not the sort of album they were likely to make at this point in their lives. Instead, it's an affirmation of their friendship and their love of music, and if you've ever cared about any or all of the group members, this will make you very happy.

Aside from the delicate "Anti-Romantic," the rest of the effort keeps the energy high with its hybrid blend of electronic, hip-hop, and anthemic rock flourish, resulting in a wholly engaging listen that ends all too soon.

At just under half an hour, the album's running time is relatively brief, but it feels like it encompasses Cheek's entire life so far, and it's a uniquely powerful expression of her uncompromising vision.

On Quietly Blowing It, M.C. Taylor reminds us he knows how we feel, and that he feels the same way; perhaps that helps only so much, but there's a lot to be said for a friendly voice during a hard time, and that's just what this album delivers.

Without drawing undo attention to himself, Darnielle has been moving from strength to strength as one of indie rock's most vital and original talents, and Dark in Here demonstrates he's working at the top of his game and it's a joy to hear.

By pushing each other out of their comfort zones, Beth and Gillespie make Utopian Ashes an unabashedly theatrical -- and consistently entertaining -- look at falling out of love.

No surprises, no alterations, no problem. It's reassuringly great music made by a group that know exactly what they are doing and aren't afraid to keep doing it and doing it well.

Tucker and Brownstein are in the process of figuring out what Sleater-Kinney can do as middle-aged indie survivors, trading their signature catharsis for reflection and mild experimentation. They haven't landed on a solution, but listening to the duo lost within their process is rewarding, feeling emotionally direct even when the angles are somewhat obtuse.

Levine and company aren't the focus here, they're the connective tissue on a softly amorphous album that sounds entirely like latter-day Maroon 5 without ever quite seeming to belong to them.

The comforts A Few Stars Apart offer may not be original, but part of their power lies in their familiarity: it's the sound of tradition moving forward through the bad times and into the good ones.

For an album that thinks big, Escapades avoids being a sprawling mess, as the songs are incredibly focused and immediate, never trying to stuff too many ideas in, and never overstaying their welcome. It's far more mature than the harsh electro-house of Waters of Nazareth-era Justice, but it feels like a return to that level of creative inspiration.

Tyler's music has always been a patchwork of ever-increasing palettes, and CMIYGL is his most complex to date. Recurring tricks are masterfully melded into new templates.