Set aside this inclination toward sneering solipsism, which not only characterizes but enlivens nearly every song, and I Am Not a Dog on a Chain is one of the better latter-day Morrissey records: the sense of musical daring reveals how placid and complacent he's been for the better part of a decade.

While fans will be glad to know that Through Water generally adheres to the well-embraced, cushiony indie electronica of Long Way Home, its "2.0" quality makes it an even better entry point for the uninitiated.

A little bit of a diversion from past Four Tet releases, Sixteen Oceans feels like Hebden is taking a moment to stop and reflect on his family, his environment, music culture, and everything else that made him who he is.

There's still plenty of mileage left on their sound, and as long as they keep making records as sweet, cozy, and melodically engaging as Truth or Consequences, Yumi Zouma can keep going for quite a while with minimal depreciation.

With Satin Doll, Gendel has crafted a low-key, innovative album that's cosmic, womblike, and full of stars.

Infinity of Now is more adventurous, disciplined, and focused than any of their previous outings. Its dark and murky sonic vision is at once completely out of step with everything else, as well as miles ahead of it.

Arguably, this edition of 8: Kindred Spirits, though only a first set, is one of Lloyd's strongest live offerings to date.

It's uplifting, ebullient music for the mind to dance to, and an absolute pleasure to behold.

The Garden are definitely not for everyone and the Shearses' talent for disguising their actual talent behind pranky hipster exercises can be irritating, but repeated listens reveal more craft than they'd probably like to let on.

Cobbled together in the style of a compilation rather than a cohesive album, it's a wonky, slightly disappointing collection that provides diamonds and duds in equal measure.

Listeners looking for a concise introduction to the Staples' best work should pick up 1991's single-disc The Best of the Staple Singers, but Come Go with Me demonstrates how consistently rewarding and even moving their lesser work can be, and listened to in full, their Stax catalog is a soul-satisfying revelation.

These songs may sound fun, upbeat, and lovelorn, but there's a dour and utterly realistic undercurrent that makes Cape God Allie X's most relatable and human effort to date.

It is apparent that The Ghost of Orion was born in the aftermath of strife, strain, and fear; but these are balanced by gratitude, endurance, and even benevolence; the conflicting tensions exist with no attempt to alleviate them, and all of these qualities are among the many reasons My Dying Bride has, for more than three decades, reigned at the pinnacle of doom metal.

Dungen Live certainly captures the side of the group that's more interested in exploration than writing catchy psych-pop songs and shows that they are the equal of just about any other band of their ilk that might want to take a run at them. It may not be essential Dungen, but it is well worth tracking down and giving a spin any time some good old fashioned uninhibited psychedelic wandering is what the doctor ordered.

Longtime Districts fans may well be surprised by the surfaces of You Know I'm Not Going Anywhere, but after a few listens it's clear this music has as much (or maybe more) that connects it to their past than that which separates it from their larger body of work.

Dark Matter cements him as one of the most exciting jazz musicians of his generation.

We Are Sent Here by History is final proof that Hutchings is a modern jazz prophet; he sees the past as merely a jumping-off point for exploration, not only in music but in philosophical concepts, cultural theories, and spiritual precepts as an aesthetic. With the Ancestors he goes further toward creating a holistic new jazz than with any of his other ensembles.

Starmaker is a subtle, yet quietly powerful record that feels like it's been hiding in your record collection for decades, just waiting for the right rainy day to make itself known.

With Sad Happy, Circa Waves capture the broken dreams of youth and turn them into songs meant to be played at full volume before leaving you wrecked on the floor.

As his ex-1D crew continue their own solo careers, Horan maintains his position near the top of the pack with yet another relatable collection of emotive vignettes about everyday love.

There is some good material here and they've certainly taken their reunion record somewhere unexpected, but as a whole, Citizens is a bit of an inconsistent mess.

An album that requires patience and willing immersion despite its relatively short length, it succeeds in transporting if not transforming.

Horse Lords make music for liberation, celebration, and revolution, and The Common Task is a prime example of their all-encompassing vision.

While Deap Lips lose some of the raw immediacy of Deap Vally and don't ascend to the songwriting heights of Flaming Lips, they create a mood of their own that pulls only a little from each group. Required listening for anyone already invested in either band and a wild, enjoyable listen for even the uninitiated.

Ricky Music's high-contrast, theatrical style plays out like a mini (24-minute) chamber-synth song cycle about infatuation, sex, and heartbreak -- with just enough balance between candidness and self-awareness to keep us rooting for the lead.

In The Color Out of Space, Stetson's score is, in its empathy, an actual character, one that accompanies the protagonists as a witness, portraying every encounter with an alien force without ever being intrusive.

While some of Werner's solo efforts, brilliant as they are, can seem cold and challenging, Smith's vocals on the album draw out the levity and excitement for exploring new ideas that might not be apparent otherwise.

Despite a few poignant moments, Manchester Calling is dominated by lively, playful songs, and though the track list might have been improved by cutting a handful of the more similar ones, the couple can't be justly accused of allowing any filler.

Dixie Blur is Wilson's most personal and direct collection of songs. They are wrought poetically from memory and inspired by the excellence of the sublime performances from his sidemen.

It's new territory for a producer known for his willingness to experiment, and finds Weber's unique voice growing as he plays with new instruments, tones, and ideas.

Intense and thrilling, The Allegory is a powerful work with uncomfortably realistic and poignant snapshots of American life that linger long after the last song has finished.

Sorry You Couldn't Make It declares there should be a place for Swamp Dogg in the country pantheon alongside Charley Pride, Stoney Edwards, Darius Rucker, and the other brave artists who've confronted the color line in Nashville.

Thanks to the caliber of players in the new James Hunter Six, he is challenged and supported in equal measure. While Hunter may be unapologetically retro in his inspirations, he is unrelentingly modern in his use of vintage music; for him it is ever present in the music he makes, and that's the exact opposite of being nostalgic.

Thankfully, Rose welcomes ambiguity in her songs, letting her lyrics cut against the sleek throb of her music. This tension lends Superstar its resonance: it's an album that admits that the darkest parts of fame are what make it so seductive.

Simulcast could be thought of as the more "background music" version of Weather, but even without lyrics, it's still meant to put your mind in motion. Both versions are equally worth the roughly half-hour it takes to listen to each.

At once exploratory, expressive, physical, and reflective, On Circles never forsakes musicality for dramatic affect but achieves it in spades nonetheless.

For his part, Jennings deftly plays to the duo's strengths and surrounds them with a complementary sonic environment that dips and swells in all the right places, helping to keep the Mastersons just slightly adjacent to Americana's more obvious paths and in their own unique little world.

From This Place integrates and illuminates most of Metheny's musical personas. His compositions allow this stellar collective to roam through them with their many strengths. They ultimately provide fans an abundance of listening pleasure. Even in a catalog filled with so many gems, From This Place shines brightly.

Comforting but inspiring, lively yet contemplative, Eyelet is easily Islet's strongest and most accessible album, and being invited into their world like this is a delight.

This music shows that Buck is a very good friend to have in the studio; he knows how give a song the setting it needs, and this is a dark but richly entertaining delight.

After a few listens to England is a Garden it's hard not to think that they have finally hit the target right in the center and reached their very particular and unique brand of perfection.

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.

Traditional Techniques feels starkly openhearted and relaxed, which means that the album can surprise emotionally even if it is firmly rooted within his musical wheelhouse.

Collector feels a bit uneven at times, but in the end Disq has enough attitude and smart ideas to keep things exciting.

Between its warm sonic patina and the personal nature of its material, Silver Landings stands as Moore's most mature work to date, making for a strong if understated comeback.

It's another huge step forward for the uncontainable U.S. Girls organism, one that skillfully combines the immediacy of personal memories with Remy's uncanny ability to inject her singular creative voice into every sound she touches.

No matter how many years go by between their albums, the adventures they embark on are irresistible.

Saturn Return hews closely to the evocative, Southern gothic swoon of its predecessor, 2017's splendid You Don't Own Me Anymore, but it does so with the dividend of confidence that the latter effort had to earn.

In other hands, that much material could turn into a tedious slog, but Lil Baby manages to keep every moment fresh, finding a unique and unlikely midway between artistic inspiration and commercially viable entertainment.

Elkhorn spends The Storm Sessions softly constructing the sonic equivalent of the situation they were in: stuck inside with no way out, passing the hours while the snow silently piled up outside.

Wasted Shirt is a collaborative project in the best sense, as the strengths of both Segall and Chippendale are at the forefront on Fungus II, and if this album is less accessible than most of Segall's recent releases, it has excitement and daring to spare.

Supervision is some of Jackson's most consistent work, and hearing her have this much fun growing into her music -- and herself -- is infectious.

Although Unlocked concludes almost as soon as it starts, Curry and Kenny pack so much into this short release that repeat listens are a must and, indeed, a pleasure.

While Bieber's voice still sounds like that of a mid- to late-teen, singing seems to come more naturally to him, and his falsetto pleas are neither bitter nor entitled, strictly genuine and adult.

The project's first album is a chaotic, unsettling mess filled with manic, distorted beats, mutated samples, and several varieties of intense vocalizations, from suffocated guttural screaming to commanding operatic virtuosity. While registering as some form of post-metal on the surface, the album is actually devoid of guitars.

Though the songs here aren't quite as immediately infectious as Clean, its combination of deceptively warm surfaces, alluring melodies, and subtly distorted textures reward repeat listens with that sense of discovery.

These kids know exactly what they want to do and they have the skills and imagination to make it work like an improbable magic trick. Which is what a band needs to beat the sophomore slump as decisively as they do here.

At a time when deep Southern soul isn't doing a whole lot better than the blues in the marketplace, Robert Cray is an effective cheerleader for both forms, and That's What I Heard shows that after 40 years of record-making, he's in no way tired or short on ideas and inspiration.

Real Estate grow up gracefully on The Main Thing while keeping a tight hold on the low-key charm and talent that made them stand out.

The album continues developing the language that Caribou has been working on for years, branching out from the clubby spirit and melancholic reflection of recent albums for more lighthearted sonic atmospheres.

As a whole, Printer's Devil is both stronger and sweeter than their prior sets, likely resulting in a more lasting impression for casual listeners and a surefire hit for established fans.

All told, Forward Motion Godyssey isn't quite as much fun as Post Animal's debut, but they still deliver that characteristic warmth as well as uncommonly sharp hooks, fills, and theatrics of a nature that should delight air guitarists and drummers everywhere.

Sometimes intricate, but more of an album-length mood that a collection of memorable songs, it's strangely well-suited for attentive headphone listening and for unwinding.

Horns and lush backing vocals do appear here and there, as does a slightly misguided dip into a borderline cartoonish vocal baritone on the otherwise strong "Ol' Man River," but the best parts of American Standard occur in the intimate moments that constitute Taylor's wheelhouse and of which there are more than enough to satisfy.

A Situation, the group's third album, sounds similar to the first two, except this time there's a greater presence of lyrics, and the songs sound more urgent.

Taken together, Thumb World is the type of album that should make for an entertaining, weekend-afternoon diversion with a timely world view. Recommended for playlisting: "Bad Algebra."

With Wild Wild East, Jain has crafted a masterful, robust celebration of America's immigrant cowboy soul.

Landreth and Field bring out the best in one another. They are symbiotic in their restless energies and experimental visions, and have consistently delivered excellence together; Blacktop Run is no exception.

Ferry had impossibly combined the hazy sheen of golden-era Hollywood glamour with a wry singer/songwriter sincerity and a wallop of good-time rock & roll. He brought all of this jazzy charisma to bear on this live concert date, offering a cross section of songs from these two solo productions.

While Surrender Your Poppy Field is less immediately approachable than the other albums from this period in the Guided by Voices saga, it's experimental, not meandering, and for fans with a taste for their more esoteric side, this will hit the spot and then some.

Random Desire doesn't necessarily sound like the Afghan Whigs in their glory days, but it does a much better job of summoning the emotional energy and musical tension that made Congregation and Gentlemen classics, and it's the best music he's made since the end of the Whigs' first era.

Even if it's not always as vivid as some of her earlier albums, Miss Anthropocene is often fascinating and defies expectations in ways that still fit her always thought-provoking aesthetic.

Spinning Coin work hard to expand their sound in interesting ways, and the end result of their efforts is an album that's challenging, bracing, and almost defiantly, certainly thrillingly, unique.

Marshall duly stuffs his concise follow-up to The Ooz with the terror and negative liquid references, both literal and metaphorical, for which he is known.

Maybe broken into a series of singles or a couple of EPs it would have been more palatable, but in this form it's just too samey and underwhelming to make much of an impression

The Family Songbook sounds pleasingly simple on the surface, though closer inspection confirms this is an album of tremendous craft that achieves its effects in a way that camouflages the effort that went into its creation, allowing us to simply appreciate the beauty.

Suite for Max Brown may be a direct sequel to its predecessor, but it's nonetheless creative and thoughtful. It's also very accessible. Experimental music never sounded this welcoming.

Nothing is lost in the process and tracks like "Bora Lá" with singer Rogê and Leporace, "Samba in Heaven" with Joans, and "This Is It (É Isso)" with Pascoal and Leporace, retain all the funky, soulful rhythms and hooky melodies that made Mendes' seminal albums so captivating.

Ultimately, four albums in, Spook the Herd proves Lanterns on the Lake to be one of the most consistent acts in the business.

With each album, they continue on the path of self-discovery and maturity, pulling off yet another effortless display of pop prowess without forgetting the fans that have helped them along the way.

Frequently immersive and occasionally revelatory, Companion Rises feels utterly modernistic in its uneasy blend of earthy stability and distractive ambience, mirroring what for many is the normal mode of 21st century existence.

71 years old at the time Ordinary Man was released, Osbourne's voice in in great shape, sounding more or less like he always has. How he's making music this strong after riding the crazy train for more than half-a-century is anyone's guess, but the better songs here rank among his best.

The more subdued affect of Aloha makes it a less immediately satisfying listen than New Magic, but that does nothing to change that this is a rewarding effort from an exciting and engaging talent.

It's elegant, regal even, yet so immersed in its icy solitude that the listener is often left looking for cracks in the facade instead of common ground.

Ultimately, the outcome is similar to Drift: while the band's anything-goes spirit is admirable and their passion is unmistakable, they simply sound much better when they're rocking out, and the other songs are just not as interesting.

The instrumental pieces are a bit harder to suss out with, both "The North Carr" (laughter) and "Darbari" (peace/tranquility) coming across as more mournful than their subjects might suggest. As a whole, though, Navarasa: Nine Emotions is another strong effort from this agile and unexpectedly prolific trio.

While this set is not as immediate as their first two albums, Foolish Loving Spaces winds up being the one that is most rewarding after repeat listens, an enjoyable, nostalgic ode to pure affection. Coolness be damned.

A stunning achievement, with Loom Gately beautifully honors her mother as well as her commitment to uncompromising music.

Both a poignant tribute to his friend and former collaborator and a weary meditation on love and death, And It's Still Alright cuts a curious balance between tender introspection and a playful sense of confidence he's carried over from the Night Sweats era.

Thanks to the life the duo breathed into the album with their dedication and passion, Swimmer should keep fans on their toes for sure.

The album's a comeback that once again makes Tame Impala an artistic force equal to their commercial appeal.

Splid (which translates to "Discord") commences with a slow-building storm of distortion that gradually reveals a blazing, punk-metal core festooned with Iron Maiden-worthy guitarmonies.

Alvin's roots in the blues certainly play a big role in The Third Mind, but so does hard rock, psychedelia, jazz, and improvisational music, and this context -- essentially a jam band without audibly hippie-like tendencies -- shows that his willingness to take a risk pays off handsomely.

There's an endearing tenderness to Trifilio's personal songwriting style that mostly avoids emo clichés, and the band's cautiously buoyant indie pop walks the line between sweet and muscular on this solid debut.

Throughout, Visser's earnest, quivery vocal delivery adds authenticity to emotionally raw, guileless lyrics, making Boniface an affecting debut with just enough hooks to compel repeat listens by pop fans.

The production gives everything a hazy, ethereal glow, but it makes all of the blazing guitar riffs and pounding drums resonate, rather than washing them out. Easily the band's most accomplished album to date.

None of these tracks rank among Wild Nothing's strongest work, but they serve as an excellent extension of the relaxed, beatific mood Indigo cultivated.

Delayed for over a year, Treat Myself lacks some of the effortless charm of her debut as Trainor trades her breezy singer/songwriter energy in favor of a sophisticated production style that sometimes threatens to lose her in the mix. Still, there are plenty of fun moments.