When it's good and the band comes across as confident and focused, it feels like they made the right choice to head off into the pillowy dreamland. Other times, when a duff synth sound or a tinny drum machine lets them down, it's hard not to miss the traditional Moon Duo approach.

Neither as endearingly fragile nor as transcendently healing as his previous two volumes, Abundance is nonetheless a fulfilling and soulful work, worthy of the Red River Dialect canon.

III moves at a deliberate, nearly dreary pace that forces a listener to pay attention, and while it can take some effort to meet the Lumineers on their own terms, it's nevertheless easy to admire the ambition behind the project.

After a unifying, spirit-lifting house warm-up that almost sounds live enough to have been recorded at a small loft party, Something Like a War gets down to private business. Vulnerability, patience, action, and uninhibited expression are all upheld as imperatives for intimacy.

Turn to Clear View isn’t as ear-opening as other dates Armon-Jones had a big role in this year -- namely, Ezra Collective's You Can't Steal My Joy and Binker Golding's completely unhinged Abstractions of Reality Past and Incredible Feathers. That said, it's a fitting addendum to the sound explored on Starting Today and well worth repeated listening.

One True Pairing is an equally welcome return and introduction to his music.

Roberts' body of work is consistent enough that The Fiery Margin doesn't necessarily stand out, at least in comparison to his traditionally oriented work as opposed to more experimental efforts such as 2018's What News. But as an acoustic artist exploring the lineage of Scottish folk, he's a major talent, and this album captures him in splendid form.

This is music that takes its time but is never less than absorbing and rewards repeated listening. Chastity Belt's musical evolution has been a fascinating and rewarding thing to witness, and this may be their smartest and most compelling music to date.

Although Robertson's delivery often veers toward the hammy -- he relishes the B-movie gangsters on "Shanghai Blues" and hisses out “hardwired for sex” as if was a snake lying in the grass -- there are pleasures to be had in this upscale affair.

It's a soothing and inspiring listen, especially for fans who love vintage sounds and period details as much as Gonzalez does.

Memory isn't just their best record, it makes good on all the promise they displayed early on and will hopefully shut their critics up once and for all.

Not a game-changing comeback by any means, Cause and Effect is instead a satisfying return to form that manages to gracefully age Keane by invigorating a familiar formula with wisdom and honesty learned over a dramatic, life-changing decade.

Gallagher isn't as potent a personality as he was a quarter-century earlier, but his middle-aged control has its charms, too. He sounds relaxed on Why Me? Why Not., maybe for the first time ever.

Howard's embrace of all the mess of life gives Jaime its sustenance. Her audacity is apparent upon the first listen, but subsequent spins are profound and nourishing.

Okie is a laid-back collection of original songs that are more poignant and more nakedly autobiographical and topical than anything he's previously issued.

The musicians find a common ground within the eerie mysteries of old folk tunes and turn those strange sounds into something reassuring, if not quite comforting.

The amount of detail and craft that goes into Efterklang's music is deeply appealing and, slow moving as it may be, listening to Altid Sammen in its entirety is time well spent.

While Nine is by no means a dour emo record, it carries enough emotional heft to elevate it as one of blink-182's strongest late-era efforts, one that matures the typical blink sound with its commitment to vulnerability and honesty.

While ERYS occasionally drags over its seventeen17 tracks, it's an immersive experience that finds Jaden at his most vulnerable, processing his messy young adult feelings into a relatable and sonically exciting way.

Guesswork is the sound of Lloyd Cole older but not as wise as he would wish, yet with his typically strong melodic game sounding crisp and pleasing in new electronic dress, it's his way of trying to have it both ways and succeeding.

Midsommar's shadows would be nothing without its sunshine, and its balance of beauty and terror is an impressive achievement for both Aster and Krlic.

While nothing here is quite as creative as Laila standout "Jesus Coming," the MC's lyrical marksmanship, top-tier mike command, and service to her people and culture are indisputable.

The quick changes can be jarring, but by the middle of Aokohio, the staggered flow begins to normalize and the album becomes an environment of short attention spans and choppy reflections. Rather than the sometimes-crushing statements of earlier albums, the weight of Wolf's heavy lyrics is softened by how quickly one idea blurs into the next.

It plays to Arnold's strength as a charismatic and captivating vocalist most comfortable with lavish fusions of soul and pop that evoke the late '60s and early '70s.

At this point of the Brockhampton story, the boys have tempered the antics and wild-child energy of past releases, maturing with an authentic grace that will only further endear them to fans of past work looking for more substance and sentiment.

More well-executed than his previous releases and undeniably catchy, Hollywood's Bleeding is a huge step forward for the guarded superstar, one that doesn't sacrifice the essential elements that made him such a surprise hitmaker, and pushes him even further into the pop-savvy landscape where he belongs.

Even if it occasionally borders on being too indulgent, Metronomy Forever still gets at the contradictions and surprises that have always made their music special.

Intimate, theatrical, and strange, House of Sugar is designed to reward repeat listens, but like other (Sandy) Alex G sets, it's above all affecting.

Corpse Flower is a dark jewel from two remarkable musical iconoclasts. It offers surprise, humor, revelation, tenderness, and excess, with flair and a certain tarnished elegance. It's a high-water mark for both men, albeit one born from the belly of hell itself.

It may be her subtlest, most approachable album yet; though its ideas are just as complex and provocative as those of Blood Bitch or Apocalypse, Girl, there's something welcoming about it that engages the hearts and minds of her listeners fully.

While Ma isn't the most eclectic chapter of Banhart's work, it's an inspired and wide-reaching collection that goes all over the place without ever losing track of his restless creative vision.

As a Belle & Sebastian album, Days Of The Bagold Summer may be a bit slight, but as a soundtrack it is considerably more cohesive and alluring than Storytelling, all due to the group's increased mastery of texture and feel.

Korn have always excelled at pain, but with The Nothing, this is the most authentic it's ever been.

With Charli, she attempts to capture the spontaneity of those releases [Number 1 Angel and Pop 2] in a more polished format; more often than not, she succeeds.

The songs are sturdily written, clever tunes in a classic guitar-pop tradition but the execution eschews conventions, resulting in a vivid, lively and refreshing album.

Another triumph, Birth of Violence is a potent -- if hushed -- reminder that Wolfe's intensity never wavers, no matter how she expresses it.

Strong hooks abound on a true collaborative effort that officially passes the mantle to trad rock.

Beneath the Eyrie isn't just the best Pixies 2.0 album to date -- it suggests they just might be stepping out of the shadow of their legendary past.

Full of insight and inspiration, The Return is an impressive, powerful work.

It can be difficult to digest the combination of super-catchy pop hooks and shocking or gross lyrics on Miami Memory, but both are essential for the complex, cynical fiction Cameron has been building on all his albums. This one is the best produced, most catchy, and most vulgar of his catalog up until this point.

Hypersonic Missiles is smart, passionate, and loaded with rock-solid anthems that surpass the "promising" designation.

ICONOLOGY is a good placeholder while fans wait for the next chapter of Elliott's brilliance, but overall seems truncated and undercooked.

Resonant Body is an inspiring release that demonstrates the healing qualities of dance music.

The vibe is appealing and so is Hynde's performance. Unhurried and nuanced, she eases herself into songs she clearly loves, and that sense of warmth lingers long after the album's last notes fade away.

An apt, and winning, culmination of Khan's music. As she celebrates the renewal of disappearing into a new identity or the freedom of getting lost in the moment, her visions feel more vivid, and more real, than they have in some time.

Another State of Grace isn't as immediately satisfying as its predecessor, but like all things built with care, it attains a golden patina over time.

While this LP might seem like a present custom made for expectant deep-listening fans who have grown with the makers, it's plainly evident that Phonte and Pooh needed to make it for themselves. Like the return from their idolized A Tribe Called Quest, May the Lord Watch strengthens a legacy of an act crucial to hip-hop.

These are songs that make you want to roll the windows down, light up a smoke, and pound the dashboard in agreement.

While lyrics stick better than hooks here, the album is not without a handful of low-key anthems (including the latter track's high-flying, Auto-Tuned "it's gonna be okay"), and the atmosphere manages to be consistently warm and inviting despite its mechanical veneer.

Though the songs average just under two minutes each, at 21 tracks, it's generous for a Cosmos outing and does nothing to detract from Kline's reputation as one of indie pop's most reliable songsmiths.

While it was unfinished and framed in '80s studio tropes, their attempt to complete it with modern charts and muddy, hip-hop-styled mix weighs down what remains of the original proceedings.

The record's resonance lies in its deep emotions and sense of craft. The craft isn't incidental, either. Their shared skills as writers and singers provide the supporting evidence to Shires' conceptual thesis: if country radio doesn't want to play music this good, what's the point of radio anyway?

As a detour from rock & roll, Free is a fine and compelling study of the mind and mood of Iggy Pop at the age of 72, and if it's clearly the work of an older artist, that works to its favor, a pointed contrast to the abandon of his youth but with no less gravitas.

Even solid instrumentals begin to blur before the halfway point arrives, and the monotonous wash of mediocre content and phoned-in performances becomes exhausting long before the collection ends.

As usual, Vaughan completely ignores modern electric blues trends. On this excellent slab of grease, grit, and soul, past is present is future, thank goodness.

That Tinariwen continue to extend invitations to outside inspirators, even on their own literal turf, is a testament to their unyielding collaborative spirit and on this hybrid of an album, they again summon a common musical language while sounding as authentic as ever.

The album maintains the smouldering quality that Lower Dens have always had, but replaces all the washed-out splendor with exacting pop hooks borrowed straight from the Reagan era. It ends up being both the headiest and most commercial material the band has created. It’s a different beast from their earlier iterations, but a compelling remodelling with interlocking layers of both sound and cultural critique.

Thoroughly inspired as well as creative, Hoodies All Summer is arguably the best work of Kano's career.

Familiar in style and approach, Engine of Paradise offers a sturdy distillation of Green's worldview, albeit a slightly darker one.

The band have never made music that's sounded so modern and disconcertingly eager to please. It's a sea change that's hard to swallow, and despite the presence of some decent tracks, Wallop is the band's weakest album to date.

Every bit as excellent as their previous two full-lengths, Venus in Leo is HTRK's most sensuous material yet, and the type of album that provokes repeated, enraptured listens.

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.

Brighter Days is a bit tidier and less adventurous than 2017's Got Soul, but it captures the heart and soul of Robert Randolph & the Family Band as well as their big, bold sound, and the results are strong, satisfying stuff.

All the songs aim for intense, tormented statements and end up being about nothing. In this way, ! is more numbing than visceral. After it's done, it's hard to remember anything that was worth latching onto.

The sheer dynamism of When I Have Fears threatens to derail the album, but a dedication to themes makes it cohesive, with the softer moments highlighting the louder counterparts and vice-versa. It's captivating from start to finish, heartbreaking in its delivery, and intense in all the right ways.

The brothers and sisters in arms, longtime partners (Thomas McElroy, Taura Stinson) and new associates (Brook D'Leau, Daniel Crawford) alike, play in service to the vision of one eminent artist, helping him convert grief to artistic brilliance.

The whole album revolves around the idea of rock & roll as a freeing source of energy, a non-stop party that can uplift those who embrace it. The McDonald brothers are living proof of that idea and Beyond the Door is another example of how pure their love for the form is and how powerfully they channel the true unadulterated ideals of the music.

The band rounds out the album with more familiar-sounding songs like "Stranger in a New Town" and "Good Night Out," but it's Powers' riskier, more revealing moments that prove the Futureheads have more to say than ever before.

Shannon Lay lives in the real world even as she's fascinated with all that is not obvious to us, and she's rarely in better form than on August. Anyone this good certainly deserves not to work in retail.

It's clear after four albums that the best Bon Iver is the one that manages to keep the arrangements in check and doesn't swing for the fences. I,I takes many mighty swings and at best knocks out a few infield hits, while striking out far too often.

Tool managed to improve and perfect their sound even further, resulting in one of the strongest statements in their catalog. Whether 10,000 days or the actual 4,868, Fear Inoculum was well worth the wait.

It's a nice dose of rock & roll, but the heart of Sunset Kids lies at twilight, when the day is done, and there are some lingering regrets, but still a glimmer of hope. That bittersweet undercurrent is what lifts this album into the ranks of one of Malin's best records.

Weird, warped and somehow playful while presenting songs about earthlings grappling with a dying planet, Zdenka 2080 constructs a universe of its own. It’s a wonderfully strange galaxy to get lost in.

The benevolent spirit in ["HER Love"] and almost all of the other tracks makes the strong-arming "Hercules" and the retribution tale "Fifth Story" seem like misplaced throw-ins.

The patient flow, risky songwriting choices and mature character of the album make it the most majestic chapter of Lana Del Rey’s continuing saga of love and disillusionment under the California Sun.

It's a roller coaster of conflicting moods and feelings.

Like everything else Pharmakon does, this is almost unbearably intense, but in a way that resonates deeply and is almost soothing, as if the only way to justify the horrors of living is to elevate one's self into the most chaotic state possible.

There are a handful of darker moments, like on the moodily defiant standout "More Women" and the eerie closer "You've Got a Story," but as a whole Wild Seeds is a reassuring balm of thoughtful songwriting and complex but wholly relatable emotions.

Neither as radically charged or emotionally turbulent as her debut, At the Party is still an engaging listen whose charms come by way of connection and compassion rather than discord.

Even at its most subdued, the relentless and invigorating Twelve Nudes crackles and pops like an alkali metal hitting water.

Though the album delivers a jammy, two-minute instrumental in "Rhododendron," the track ultimately lands more like an interlude than an outlier, and Forever Turned Around very much plays out like a world-wearier continuation of Light Upon the Lake. Sometimes no big surprises is a welcome result.

Running a leisurely 75 minutes, Threads doesn't seem sequenced so much as unedited; it's as if instead of finishing the album, she decided to dump every track out into the marketplace. This makes for a somewhat somnolent record, but it's better to think of it as not a complete meal but rather a buffet that contains something to please every palette.

Delivers a punitive amalgam of classic West Coast thrash and bruising groove metal.

They fare better as a dancey new wave party band than they did emulating Joy Division on their album before this, but for all its energy and drive, Spirit World is light on truly striking songs.

Throughout the record, Tropical Fuck Storm intentionally eschew formulaic song structure, relying on unconventional songwriting rather than mining pseudo-psych-rock. As a result, the sense of apocalyptic adventure is palpable; luckily, it's a joy to go along for the ride.

Fresh and exhilarating, Nothing Great About Britain firmly establishes slowthai as one of U.K. rap's most relevant artists.

Throughout, the slippery beats, rangy songwriting, crisp, breezy production, and the streetwise pleasure-seeking confessionals and sideways jokes, make for a feel-good (even in its darker moments) summertime urbano album to be pumped loudly from car stereos, at parties, or on the beach.

It's a record that gets by on feel, not songs, which may mean that it doesn't provide many distinguishing hooks, but it does sound awfully good as it plays.

Jennings and Carlile also direct Tucker toward a few outside covers, including the rousing "Hard Luck" and "The House That Built Me," a Tom Douglas & Allen Shamblin song popularized by Miranda Lambert, that add texture and deepen the emotional undercurrents flowing through the record. When combined with the Carlile/Hanseroth originals, these tunes paint a portrait of a mighty artist who has been through a lot but is fearless about the future.

Despite these variations, discernable influences, and the involvement of collaborators, the comforting Anak Ko is more unified in tone than prior releases and benefits from its marriage of immersive sound design with consistently engaging songs.

More than either 1989 or Reputation, Lover seems fully realized and mature: Swift is embracing all aspects of her personality, from the hopeful dreamer to the coolly controlled craftsman, resulting in a record that's simultaneously familiar and surprising.

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.

Tucker's previous few albums contained some of his most stripped-down, direct material, but here he goes for a bigger, grander sound, and the results are no less powerful.

Tropical Fuck Storm are fast becoming a watering hole for listeners with a thirst for the weird, and on Braindrops, they have eschewed formulas to such an extent that they are now staring back through the dimensional mirror with wry smiles and killer tunes.

Like some of the more cerebral acts of Britain's early-'70s folk-rock heyday, Modern Nature aren't a portable commodity of singles and small ideas. Their music is defiantly experimental -- though by no means impenetrable -- and best enjoyed in its long-form splendor.

The 16 songs use a wide variety of stylistic approaches while centering around Durk's lyrical narratives of desperation and survival. While not all of it feels essential, the high points are fantastic examples of the rapper at his best.

The resulting Love's Last Chance does evince a more direct step on a surface level. Pacific rhythms with squiggling synthesizers and casually bobbing basslines course through it, with not one flashback to the wrought, jagged edges and stammering patterns of Early Riser. There's a nearly equal increase in the musician's stylistic agility.

Amazingly, Childish doesn't show a single sign of slowing down or losing a step. At this rate, he may indeed be the last punk standing; he's certainly one of the few still making records as impressive as this.