When the production magic keeps up with her boundless spirit, the songs reach a unique hotspot of fun and infectiousness that makes all of Doja Cat's disparate impulses gel into an exhilarating whole.

Both economical and richly evocative, Former Things is as brilliant and sharp as a diamond -- and it's the first LoneLady album that could honestly be described as fun.

With Dacus' warm vocals and melodies leading the way throughout, Home Video is an engrossing set steeped in life lessons and nostalgia.

At only 23 years old, she already has four albums to her credit and while her talent is obvious, a touch more vulnerability wouldn't hurt.

Although all this could have resulted in Hiatus Kaiyote's wildest and most triumphant material, Mood Valiant is intimate and romantic more than anything else.

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.

Preacher's Sigh & Potion sounds a bit jarring at first, but it makes more sense considering Dear's family background, and it does have a kind of rootsy, lived-in charm the more time one spends with it. Even if the songs don't always work, at least they feel like earnest personal expressions rather than forced, miscalculated "who is this even for?" hybrids.

Modest Mouse's finest work since Good News for People Who Love Bad News.

All of this would merely be bubblegum pop fun if not for the band's knack for writing the kind of Hypercolor, stadium-sized singalong anthems that make up much of Greatest Hits.

As with Cabral's previous album, The Turning Wheel has several standouts along with a handful of other tracks that don't leave as much of an impression. However, this is undeniably her best-produced work yet, and clearly demonstrates her impressive growth as an artist.

While the set is a bit of a chore at 19 tracks (24 on the deluxe version), it's still not as bloated as Culture II. Yet, it could use some trimming if only to clear the clutter that distracts from the solid highlights.

Booth manages to ground this music while attempting to push it into the stratosphere, a duality that intrigues and chafes in equal measure, so it's good that he's buoyed by a band who give him a sympathetic bed, which is a comfort not only for the singer but for the listener as well.

Like Squirrel Flower's debut, Planet (i) is a journey through an ever changing landscape and marks a noticeable creative step forward for Williams.

Baptize hits hard early on with a trio of nosebleed section-aimed sonic missiles: the pummeling title cut and its equally unrelenting successors "Save Us" and "Underrated." Therein lies the rub. What follows is no better or worse, just largely the same, with Saller delivering post-hardcore banalities with gusto and the band peppering those surface-level maxims with blazing riffage and fist-pumping gang vocals, ad nauseam.

The care and intention applied to all aspects of Earth Trip make it the lightest set from Rose City Band to date, sustaining a mood that's consistently joyful and relaxed, even through various fluctuations in energy and emotional intensity.

Outlaw R&B suggests Danny Lee Blackwell hasn't completely turned his back on the Myth of a Man experiment, but he knows the right amount of dirt can give music some valuable texture, and this music is all the more enjoyable for its increase in grit.

Menneskekollektivet is more of an experience than a set of songs to be consumed passively, but it's a richly rewarding listen for those who give it the attention it deserves.

The nearly hour-long running time drags somewhat, and some songs could have been left off the final cut. Still, The Voice of the Heroes is carried primarily by Durk and Baby's chemistry as they adapt to each other without either of them watering down their individualistic styles.

At a brisk ten tracks, Ancient Dreams is a quick dose of what makes Marina great: heartfelt honesty from a fellow misfit consistently pushing the boundaries of pop.

On Mother Nature, Kidjo delivers not only an infectious, danceable transcontinental showcase for the African continent's musical influence on global traditions, but emphatically proclaims it a primary engine in pop's future.

Thematically inward-gazing, Lung reflects on matters of loneliness, substance abuse, and mental health, though the music comes across as inspired rather than overtly dour.

While Kings of Convenience don't cover fresh territory with Peace or Love, they do what they do as impeccably as ever here and offer a handful changeups and hummable tunes along the way. It should serve as a welcome return for any established fans.

Present Tense seems like a very good but somewhat straightforward Facs album until the last two tracks. The band took a more experimental approach to writing and recording that stands out on "Present Tense," where backward drums and cryptic observations ("all life remains kneeling in love") take on an almost spiritual dimension that feels equally ominous and optimistic, and on the brilliant closer "Mirrored," which brings the album full circle by adding a metal-tinged doom to the heaviness the band hinted at on the opening track "XOUT."

Having been in the game for ages, Jones and Miller remain as keen to discovery as they've always been, and their debut full-length is engaging in the way it constantly teeters between the familiar and the unknown.

A debut album that maintains a warm, analog feel and the nuanced vocal performances of a seasoned performer.

An album that offers familiar comfort even if it doesn't precisely sound like any previous Crowded House record.

Nowhere Generation may lack the nervy zeal of peak efforts like Siren Song of the Counter Culture and Appeal to Reason, but it most certainly has the gravitas.

It's the kind of big, unabashedly emotional album that people make memories to, and some of Wolf Alice's most confident and fully realized music.

Jubilee is an album that showcases Zauner's talents to their fullest and makes crushing on Japanese Breakfast hard to resist.

Bodies is one of the stronger offerings from AFI's late era, stirring both the physical and emotional with urgency and heart.

Butterfly 3000 is the work of a band with a million ideas and the skills to make them all work like a dream. In this case, a shiny, happy dream that leaves the sleeper feeling refreshed and at peace upon awakening.

No Gods No Masters is a highlight in their discography and one of their best works to date, a potent and outspoken dose of genre-blending artistry that confidently returns Garbage to their position as a band perpetually ahead of the curve.

While the powerfully cathartic Big Mess does feel overlong, it may serve as a rare case where that's masterfully appropriate.

Offering a newly recorded version of Epic by a bunch of different artists turns out to not only be a clever idea, but it also shows how versatile and strong Van Etten's writing is.

She optimizes her limited range, but she and Zaks choose to keep the productions, all pleasant and finely rendered, similarly circumscribed in style and tempo.

Although Kommunity Service is short, it still shows versatility by approaching various styles track to track.

Their studio albums solidified Can's reputation as one of the most important and groundbreaking bands of their time, but Stuttgart 1975 exemplifies how that creative spirit translated to the stage, highlighting yet another side of Can's limitless ability.

The Problem of Leisure: A Celebration of Andy Gill and Gang of Four seems designed less as a walk down memory lane for aging leftist post-punks than a tool to make current listeners aware of Go4's ideals and legacy, and though (like most tribute albums) its broad palette makes it somewhat inconsistent, the thinking is fresh, bold, and impassioned enough that it should open the ears of both fans and novices should it cross their paths.

A beautifully nuanced work, Clara is both revealing and mysterious -- and Loscil fans wouldn't expect anything less.

As difficult and cathartic as the subject matter is, it's clear that she has come out on the other end and is not only thriving as an artist, but has found peace as a human. Having such a rich and compelling story to tell on a debut album is rare, and Russell delivers her tale with the utmost grace and finesse.

What makes Hardware cook are the very elements that always work for Gibbons: deceptively sharp songwriting that supports full-throttle rockers and soulful, slow(er) grooves. It's a formula that's yielded great results for Gibbons throughout the years, and they do once again here.

The appealing thing about Soberish is how it holds two thoughts (and sounds) simultaneously, a record that revives the spirit of Phair's earliest albums while casually leaning into her middle age.

Rostam's music didn't need much altering, but on Changephobia, it's more artful and heartfelt than ever.

This questioning, comforting, quietly stunning album reveals the good things that can come out of pain and grief.

A solid collection, but the shadow cast over the project by DMX's death highlights some of the inconsistencies and adds a heaviness and sense of unfinishedness that's palpable throughout.

Reflection doesn't quite have the shock of the new that For You and I did, but its best moments are still powerful, and it would be impossible to mistake the album for anyone else's perspective.

Barlow is still in touch with what was best about his old work while maturing in the ways that truly matter.

Wide-ranging without seeming scattered, PostHuman is an effortlessly accomplished work.

As ever, the band's music finds common ground in varying styles and coheres into a singular whole, coming together with a purpose to uplift and celebrate.

All the shifting sounds and emotions lend Blood an uneasy undercurrent that counters the immediacy of her melodies, but this tension isn't merely provocative, it's nourishing. Few pop records have captured the agitation of the early 2020s as well as this homespun project, which feels a bit like a beacon in the darkness.

It's a solid and rewarding set of songs that sounds a bit different than his usual work but finds him working with some excellent and sympatico musicians who understand his craft and give him what he needs and more.

Her combination of sweet melodies and bitter moods, her conversational flow, and her self-awareness are all skills many songwriters twice her age would love to call their own, and they make Sour a well-rounded emotional journey and strong debut album.

Agreeable yet melancholic and peppered with moments of cinematic Lynch-ian weirdness, it's the purest and most satisfying distillation of Lord Huron's pastoral folk-pop to date, and the perfect soundtrack for a road trip to nowhere.

Minus the two guest appearances, this is a one-woman show, from composition and instrumentation to mixing and mastering. The low end on this sucker is immense.

As a whole, The Width of a Circle doesn't quite add up to much more than an odds-and-sods collection, but then again, that's its appeal. It allows listeners to live within Bowie's 1970, a strange, weird, and absorbing year when he was figuring out his strengths and weaknesses.

Reprise is a bold late-career gem that legitimizes Moby's brand of electronic music by extracting the existing emotions that always dwelled beneath the digital soundscapes, revealing a heart that was always there but is now on full glorious display.

It's nothing unexpected but it's all effective, from the sturdy song constructions to performances that know when to lean into the muscle and when to let things swing.

Cavalcade is intentionally oversaturated and designed to knock listeners off balance, and at its best, the album's overpowering rush of sounds and ideas communicates the excitement and a sense of unlimited possibilities.

While varied in style and arrangements, the album maintains a certain heartfelt, longing tone and unvarnished immediacy that engage in tandem with its solid songwriting core.

The songwriter goes on to defy social etiquette with more of her direct lyrics about sex, desire, and self-loathing on songs with titles sure to offend or at least embarrass a few parents. Ulven tests the line between potential catch phrases and potential cringes on more than a couple occasions here.

Michaels gives you the sense that she's writing from experience and transforming her emotions into cathartic pop anthems. It doesn't hurt that she also has a warm, expressive voice, marked by a dusting of vocal fry that can make her sound vulnerable and sweet one minute and wickedly intimidating the next.

An R&B-rooted set that glows with elements of atmospheric house, spangly garage, and racing drum'n'bass. ... It's just as enthralling -- and empowered -- as any of the club tracks.

Aside from that final somber moment, the rest of the LP is an absolute blast, yet another collection of reliable singalongs to "Oi!" your cares away.

The customary meeting with dancehall stars, "Where You Come From," closes out the set in fine style, but doesn't prevent the album from contending for Khaled's most disposable project.

Even though this shouldn't be confused for a proper DOOM album, two of the three tracks without him are clearly low points. ... Despite these missteps, Super What? is another worthwhile issue of the Czarface saga, and a fond farewell to DOOM.

Smart and fun in equal measures, In Standard Definition's love letters to long-gone formats and feelings are similarly bewitching.

Lost in the Cedar Wood is not Flynn's most accessible record, but it might be his most immediate, and its communion of two masters in their prime makes for a satisfying listen.

Throughout Take the Cake, PACKS put an intimate, warped spin on what are fundamentally great rocks songs. The result is a debut that's likely to compel return visits.

Gray has always been reflective, but in removing some of his sonic crutches, he's unearthed a bit of Van Morrison's mystic soul-food shine and brought his acumen as a songwriter front and center.

Finley's singing radiates with hard-won experience and gratitude, and his producer succeeds in reflecting that spiritual power and emotional honesty without self-reference or artifice.

Dynamic, but well-balanced, this collection is perhaps the most conclusive example of Moctar's multidimensional talents to date.

These songs stand on their own and bode well for the second album.

The album is a varied selection with solid performances and production throughout. Much like the title suggests, The Off-Season feels like Cole running through different exercises as he gets in shape for something bigger.

With just nine tracks, Standing in the Doorway: Chrissie Hynde Sings Bob Dylan feels a bit more like an EP than a proper album, but Hynde's takes on Dylan's songs are savvy and satisfying, and she's more than done right by one of her acknowledged inspirations.

Fly Pan Am's Frontera score is some of their most trance-inducing work, harnessing the power of repetition while retaining a crucial element of surprise.

A Little More Time sometimes suggests he recorded with this edition of Reigning Sound out of convenience or availability rather than a desire to reclaim the glories of the past. None of that changes the fact that Cartwright is a truly great songwriter, though, and he's delivered 11 winners on A Little More Time with Reigning Sound (as well as a roaring cover of Adam Faith's "I Don't Need That Kind of Lovin'"), played by a band who know his music and give it the expert support it needs.

The album puts too much emphasis on its cool side rather than the warmth that truly elevates the music, but there is more than enough beauty and empathy here to make this well worth your time and attention.

Whether or not they decide to revive their ongoing album mythology, Scaled and Icy will remain a quick dose of TOP perfection, a lean catalog gem that is bright, effervescent, and immensely addictive.

The finished album, mixed by Mario Caldato, has an immediacy that reflects its relatively quick conception and, coming after the nimble electronic experiments of 2019's Pang!, there's something bracing about the directness of Seeking New Gods.

A different kind of enjoyment than in the past, but just as good. Maybe even better.

Daddy's Home takes time to unfold in listeners' imaginations. It's much more of a mood than anything else in her body of work, but its hazy reconciliation of the good and bad of the past makes it as an uncompromising statement from her as ever.

It lets some of their influences expand on their ideas, sometimes taking them much further than they could've expected.

Kingdom of Oblivion organically grafts trademark elements from Motorpsycho's previous work and influences onto literally spontaneous musical discoveries. The album is a pillar of 21st century rock, adding dimension and depth to the band's visionary legacy.

Channeling the sense of yearning expressed by the poetry the album draws from, Medieval Femme is sorrowful yet freeing.

Taken together, The Power of Rocks is a pleasantly puckish jumble -- which in this case may well mean mission accomplished.

Descension is a collaboration for the ages: It is ecstatic, improvised jazz that reverberates inside the human body like a heartbeat.

Black to the Future jams is a staggering achievement. Musically and culturally, Sons of Kemet not only holistically conceive of a future, they begin to create one right now.

While The Monster Who Hated Pennsylvania doesn't necessarily break new ground, it's a strong, affecting set from a songwriter who proves himself among the elite at doing more with less.

It's dramatic, it's grand, and it proves yet again that Martin Phillipps hasn't lost a step and will hopefully go on for a long time making records as good as Scatterbrain.

Weller may often be adventurous, particularly during the third act inaugurated with 2008's 22 Dreams, yet he rarely seems as loose and playful as he does here, and that sense of mischief is an unexpected and welcome gift.

With The Blue Elephant he has made something bordering on greatness, where his skills at creating sound are allowed to fully flower, his songs have grown deeper roots, and the pairing with Blundell borders on brilliant.

Laconic and acidly textured, Delta Kream is a perfect balance of the Black Keys' lo-fi swagger and keen ear for the Mississippi blues traditions that inspired it.

In looking to creation itself for comfort, she has tapped into a deep well of creativity, and as much as Mercy must have been painful to unearth, it has the kind of authoritative and transformative power that can only come from reaching the final stage of grief.

This album is a project of love and admiration for Tony Joe White, and Smoke from the Chimney honors his legacy while reminding us that the tunes he left on the shelf are more effective and compelling than the emphasis cuts on most other songwriters' albums.

Uneasy offers a portrait of an emergent trio discovering a multivalently complex language while simultaneously articulating its myriad possibilities. The end result is centered, action-oriented music that is at once gloriously colorful and brilliantly articulated.

Mist's classical inclinations take full form on "Once a Year," a brief, yet languorous chamber piece that, as with all of Bring Backs, underlines his wide-ranging taste.

With Memoryland, CFCF looks back on a time when the future seemed limitless, reflecting on the promise of youth and how it's panned out so far.

Four years later, the follow-up, Monsters, picks up where that album left off, submitting an unpredictable sequence of 13 tracks injected with elements of cabaret, hip-hop, indie electronic, modern pop, and more.