Mead delivers each of these songs with understated soul and that's what gives Close to Home its comforting spirit: it feels as cozy and nourishing as home itself.

It might not be a coincidence that the most emotive and well-defined songs are collaborations. "Needed" (Dan Wilson), "Patience" (Ólafur Arnalds), and "Save Me" (Doveman) are also the standouts on this abbreviated set, which feels almost as secondary as Blood Remixed.

A substantial portion of the album is either reverential or referential to a degree that it can sound more like an exercise in homage or a licensing tactic than a distinctive work.

All these sounds mean ANIMA sounds superficially similar to its predecessors (The Eraser, plus 2014's Tomorrow's Modern Boxes), but Yorke and Godrich are craftsman, offering a different perspective on a familiar subject. That subject is, naturally, a distrust of the modern world and a fear of a creeping dystopia, a paranoia that suits the troubled times of 2019.

If Down to the River isn't as adventurous or hungry or exploratory as any Allman Brothers Band album, there's nevertheless a deliberately cultivated warmth that's designed to appeal to Allman fans-and, given a shot, Down to the River may well appeal to that audience.

Gode was clearly a bold, daring step into unknown territory for Bratten, and Pax Americana is just as impressive, in addition to being much more accessible.

While Dusk to Dawn initially seems like the soundtrack to an endless vacation, it ends up unexpectedly vulnerable and revealing, allowing for introspection and spiritual reflection after the all-night party experience.

While its charms might take a few spins to unpack themselves, Andersson and Dornauer have applied their own unique set of filters and experiences to the dreamier side of post-rock on this solid debut.

It's the kind of sunny, burly record that gets the business done so efficiently (the album lasts a little over a half-hour) that you want to start it all over again once it's done spinning.

Although it paints a picture that best fits a degraded postcard, it's relatable in its own earnest way with a poetic air and a sense of urgency.

While Father of 4 is still far more interesting and better constructed than most other Migos-related solo offerings, it re-enforces the notion that the group's chemistry is a stronger force than any one of its individual members' talents.

This retro vibe is appealing and it also helps undercut whatever lingering sense of fatality hangs over the album, since it suggests that Ride Me Back Home isn't a statement, but rather just another enjoyable record in a long line of enjoyable records.

Small Mercies may not be quite as immediate as The Age of Anxiety, but it's fizzing with energy and ideas that prove that Pixx the right person to sing about what's wrong with the world.

There are enough hooks in this bouquet of confusing-if-passable genre-hopping tracks to keep him on the path to future hits, but nothing comes remotely close to the lightning in a bottle of "Old Town Road"'s accidental perfection.

Overall, Jambinai's third album is both grander and more restrained than its predecessors, achieving a vast, wide-open sound that is equally focused and direct.

Kicks feels like a lesser statement from Jones compared to the more ambitious original material of 2009's Balm in Gilead and 2015's The Other Side of Desire, but as a performer, she's still a unique talent, and the best moments here are a true delight.

It's a good-time record designed for daylight and, after the murky Turn Blue and its ensuing hiatus, it's refreshing to hear the Black Keys step out of the dark and into the sunshine.

The sheer breadth of the ensemble's expression on We Are on the Edge is staggering, a strident declaration that Mitchell and Moye will carry the AEC's powerful, boundary-less creative ethos full force into its sixth decade.

Return to Center can feel like a bit of a lark, but it's administered with enough gravitas that it's easy to dial into the flow.

On the whole, these aren't the boldest reimaginings of her songs that she could have delivered, but it makes for an extremely uplifting listening experience that works as a lovely placeholder until her next album--and as a calling card for anyone unlucky enough to not already be familiar with Weaver's sound and songs.

Fans of Veronica Falls can still lament that the band is gone for good, but Patience is a fine substitute that delivers the same great songs and deep feelings only in a different package.

The production throughout Daughters of the Sky seamlessly melds mallet percussion, trippy effects, and enticing synth textures, maintaining an atmosphere that's both organic and otherworldly. A handful of somewhat darker instrumental interludes are present, but there's still a cautious sense of determination to them.

The sound on this set is better than many other volumes in the series. And of course, the music is unassailable in both choice and presentation.

In less than a half hour, Curry establishes himself not only as one of the most capable and exciting artists of his generation, but also worthy of a place in Miami's rap pedigree, right alongside the local icons who inspired this gem.

In opting for a ruminative approach, Parry has crafted more of a guided meditation than a cosmopolitan fun house, resulting in a collection of songs that often feel less tangible than those that populated its antecedent. Still, it's an ambitious work that is undeniably widescreen, but far removed from the grandiose chamber rock of his meal-ticket band. It celebrates family, self, friendship, and the existential pain and wonder of life.

Not only were there not many musicians hanging in the studio this time, but all of Rise seems stitched together on the computer, with each of the three core members doing their part when they cleared time in their schedule. The result is a drag, the sound of a revelers who have no idea that it's well past time for them to head on home.

Buddy Miller lends all the support any artist could want or need on these performances, but he's smart enough to understand Julie Miller is every bit as deserving of the spotlight. On Breakdown on 20th Ave. South, he makes room for her to shine, and it's a very welcome reminder of her gentle strengths and singular voice. We need her in these days.

It simply finds Stickles and his crew moving from one position of strength to another, and it's as bold and exciting as anything they've delivered so far.

Nostalgic throughout, yet often more affectionate than bittersweet, Gold Past Life represents another consistently strong set from Johnson, one with melodies and sentiments that linger.

As Hatchie exceeds the expectations set by Sugar & Spice, Keepsake reflects her growth into an even more confident and varied artist.

As a first chapter, Schlagenheim crackles with the same excitement as ground breaking records that came before it did when expanding the known boundaries of experimental sounds.

Despite this contemporary flair, what keeps Help Us Stranger lively is how the Raconteurs blend and mix barbed pop and blues skronk so their classicism seems fresh, not stale.

Immersive, joyous, but sometimes insubstantial, A Bath Full of Ecstasy lives up to its name in more ways than one. Even if it's not as consistent as some of Hot Chip's other albums, it's still a welcome, well-intended, and timely respite from the world at its worst.

Overall, this is one of Ronson's best works--a complete pop album.

A sequel to the comparatively energized Snax, this charmingly disjointed EP of sorts--14 tracks, 25 minutes--functions as another intermediary release between Bodywash and its proper follow-up, planned for 2020

If Prince intended these songs to be released under his own name, they'd be given richer, bolder arrangements and his singing would've been sharper, but he meant these as guides toward a finished product. Keeping that caveat in mind, this is an enlightening and illuminating listen.

While the experiment works, for the most part, in tandem with Devine and Hull's always thoughtful and occasionally profound words, the album becomes formulaic as songs reliably start as acoustic song, then gradually ascend into the atmosphere.

While other hitmaking urbanos (J Balvin, Bad Bunny, Ozuna, Farruko et. al) have also pursued crossover domination, Maluma is poised to succeed due to the seamless adaptability he offers on 11:11. He displays over and again here that he not only indulges stylistic diversity, but masters it.

Appropriately titled, the album is packed with feel-good, summery nostalgia that breezes along at a clip with Greedo's varied delivery, which switches between auto-tuned crooning and wordy bars.

Mixing a sophisticated amalgam of melody, sound, and poetic lyrics, Hawley's artistry lies in his ability to communicate a deeper vulnerability that openly engages hard questions about identity, and the often overlooked yet profound benefits of romantic love.

The most surprising thing about SHE IS COMING is how detached she sounds on it.

Nelson and co. have omnivorous tastes and a sense of humor, a combination that results in slow-grooving R&B numbers, sun-kissed pop, rangy rockers, and a persistent good vibe. In troubled times, the band have managed to deliver an album filled with optimism, and that's a remarkable feat.

The stylistic shifts can be a tad neck-snapping, especially when the vibe goes from acid rock sock hop ("Masquerades") to space age instrumental synth pop ("Cymatic"), but Los Coast always feel in control of the vehicle, which appears to be of multiple vintages.

The result is a positively buoyant rock & roll album, one that produces good vibrations even at the darkest moments.

This effort lacks the element of surprise that enlivened their previous album and the songs aren't all quite at the same level, but for sheer smart-punk action, Dumb are clearly still something special. Club Nites suggests they have plenty more albums worth hearing left in them, and this album deserves a spin on your listening device of choice.

Time will tell if Perfect Version is a fascinating anomaly in Julia Shapiro's catalog or a bold step into a new phase of her career, but either way it's brave, powerful music that speaks from the heart and the mind. Anyone who has liked her work with Chastity Belt or Childbirth should investigate this study of the emotional flip side of Shapiro's songs.

False Alarm is a colorful, good time album by a band that's maturing, and having fun at the same time.

Both confounding and compelling, Office Politics, like much of Hannon's work, feels a bit like a magnificently rendered lark, but as per usual, it's hard not to admire the craftsmanship.

In widening the lens, LeBlanc has taken his Springsteen-esque narratives out of the woodshed and onto the open road, and has delivered his best offering to date.

The whole record is a testament to the skills of everyone involved as writers, singers, players, and arrangers, an upgrade on In the Reins, and exactly what fans of both bands would hope for in a collaboration.

Unassuming yet frequently profound, Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest is a gorgeous and much-needed return from an artist whose powers have only grown during the time he spent living his life.

This need to seize the moment has been one of Bastille's main messages since "Pompeii," and with Doom Days, they prove they can deliver it in increasingly eloquent and relatable ways.

Madame X not only amply rewards such close listening, but its daring embrace of the world outside the U.S. underscores how Madonna has been an advocate and ally for left-of-mainstream sounds and ideas throughout her career.

Thanks to maturity, Fridmann's mix, and uncanny sequencing, every song fits seamlessly inside each proceeding one, delivering a mercurial yet satisfying whole that makes Gold & Grey the band's finest outing to date, if not their masterpiece.

This isn't a piece of nostalgia on Springsteen's part, though. These references deepen a collection of songs that are sweet, sad, and searching, songs that feel finely etched on their own terms but gather a deep, lasting resonance when collected on this enchanting album.

As promising as Dommengang's first two albums were, No Keys, with its dark, swirling emotions, layered sound, and canny songwriting, stands head and shoulders above them in both imagination and execution.

It's a bit of a shame that the band's name may turn potential fans away at the door, but PPC work pretty hard to overcome their self-imposed handicap and turn in an exciting and solidly built third LP.

She is still at her best as a performer, delivering her work verbally, lingering here and there, quavering when needed, framing questions, summoning anger, then letting the needle drop right on the beat. Emotionally, there's a lot to unpack, but the need to feel and engage more deeply is one of her primary decrees and this powerful album is a lesson worth learning.

The rollicking, Rivieras-evoking organ-rock tune "Berlin Weekend" is just one of several other worthwhile stops on a 12-track album that ups the ante on an already attention-grabbing debut.

Of the production teams, Vincent Pontare and Salem Al Fakir (aka Vargas & Lagola) deliver the best product, elevating "Peace of Mind," "Tough Love," and "Excuse Me Mr Sir" above the pack. A generic middle stretch is bookended by Tim's other highlights, which benefit from a group of high-profile guest stars, of which there are two clear standouts.

Swimmers is a flowing, peaceful listen that doesn't need to be broken into small bits; it works best as a unified 35-minute diversion from the stress and struggle of the daily grind.

Apollo XXI, his first album, is a little more refined, advancing his lazing, heartfelt mix of soul and funk with minimal varnish and no evident fuss.

With near-peerless levels of confidence, fearlessly bold lyricism, and relentless, expertly crafted beats, Fever establishes Megan Thee Stallion as a figure in Southern rap. As she grows into a command of her strengths and her personality, she creates songs that are wilder, more raw, and more instantaneously exciting than most of her contemporaries.

A Fine Mess is quintessentially Interpol, almost to a fault. While it's a little undercooked compared to the songs that appeared on Marauder, the EP may still please fans wanting more of that album's vibe.

Although instant, maximum commercial impact is no doubt the primary objective, the album does come across as more considered than the average Khaled LP.

The Traveler continues Shepherd's trajectory of quality. The diversity in his musical approach, songwriting consistency, organic production, and passionate performances place it over and above anything else in his catalog to date.

With Widow's Weeds, the band hasn't necessarily reinvented their wheel, but there's a deep sense of change and growth, both in personal perspective and potential direction. While it takes time for the album to really sink in, it ends up being one of Silversun Pickups' most emotionally satisfying and cathartic listens.

The very existence of Jazz Fest: The New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival indicates how the event has become a cultural institution, influencing countless other regional festivals in the decades since while retaining a unique blend of local institution and tourist destination. Smithsonian Folkways remarkably re-creates that appeal with their box set, offering 50 live tracks recorded at the fest over its 50 years, a collection that illustrates how far beyond jazz the festival has grown.

[Billy Idol's "Eyes Without a Face"] is an overhaul of the original that unquestionably makes it her own, but it still plays out like a bonus track rather than a curated finale in the context of the album. If that's the only blip on a 12-track set, Chura's in fine form again here--it wouldn't be an overstatement to call it a doozy.

True to its title, Nighttime Stories' best moments appear late.

While Lust for Youth proves that the duo is among the best acts updating synth-pop for the 21st century, it also suggests that it might be time for Norrvide and Fischer to broaden their horizons once more.

As a writer, Kempner's antennae are acutely tuned in to the heart's dizzying range of emotions, and with Black Friday, her connection remains as strong as ever.

Both this record and How the West was Won would have been notable just because Perrett was still alive and making music again; the high level of the music he's actually making mean that they are both vital transmissions from one of the great lost talents of the punk era.

Africa Speaks is breathtaking in terms of energy and scope of vision.

While uneven, it's an album that sticks, both for its theatrical melodies and uncommon benevolence.

Tuscaloosa presents Neil and his band in a warmer mood, sometimes downbeat but far less confrontational, and the vibe here is generally positive.

Happiness Begins feels immediate in way so many big pop albums of the twilight of the 2010s do not, but individual tracks are crafted to slide onto as many cross-genre play lists as possible.

The concerts all have excellent sound. While this box is only essential for hardcore Dylanophiles, it's immeasurably valuable for the way it illuminates a wildly spontaneous period in the songwriter's career.

2019's Age Hasn't Spoiled You introduces a multitude of influences and sounds into Greys' palette and makes for a challenging but overall worthwhile listen.

Streamlining arrangements and song structures more so than in the past, the album's pop-leaning blend of dance-funk and the softer side of classic album rock is their most accessible yet.

Kind Heaven is every bit as ambitious an album as we've come to expect from Farrell, but it's more in line with the eclectic hard rock energy of his most popular work.

1634 Lexington Avenue is the album Smith through his wandering and woodshedding has been promising for decades now. It is retro to be sure, but free of artifice or false appropriation. He is personally invested in these songs and it shows. Essential.

Its cover inscribed with "In loving memory of Nipsey Hussle," 4REAL 4REAL would be the most subdued YG album even without that stirring reflection.

Throughout the album, the duo maintain a balance between daring production tricks and direct feelings, producing futuristic experimental pop that builds on the two producers' combined histories while pushing things further.

Polymer is one of Plaid's most successful hybrids of organic and artificial sounds, matching its ambitious themes and concepts with enlightening music.

While it might be easy to slap tags such as Fourth World or techno-primitivism onto Leon's music, his Interplanetary Folk concept seems to encompass a much grander scheme, and The Canon proves to be just as visionary as the first volume.

The album drifts by with a bittersweet solitude, like a more innocent reading of Satie or a less distraught take on the piano ambience of Eluvium contemporary Goldmund, reflecting on the most dream-like aspects of childhood with these warm but distant piano pieces.

It's a moving album throughout, one by a multifaceted musician whose songwriting outshines even artful arrangements.

At a time when so many bands co-opt various sounds of '90s indie rock and don't add anything new or interesting, Pip Blom make it work on Boat by basically becoming a '90s indie rock band and doing it better than anyone else around. Maybe even better than most of the bands they are borrowing from, too.

The rich palette of soulful musical styles he draws from is often at odds with his strangely plain American diction. Yet, the vivid tones of his African heritage transmuted through his Ohio upbringing are a major part of his story, and with his melting pot of styles, influences, and cultures, Sinkane sets out to prove that we can be many things at once and still find acceptance and love.

It's another triumphantly jubilant album by a band who are second to none when it comes to that kind of thing.

No one was likely to have guessed that Wreckless Eric would be on a creative hot streak four decades after he made his debut, but that is indeed what's happening, and Transience manages to be surprising while also reflecting what Goulden has long done so well.

Older, wiser and more concerned with the greater good than selfish excess, Duff McKagan's punk edge hasn't left him, but instead has been refined into a loving world view that believes there's still a chance for humanity. This bright outlook combines nicely with some of the strongest and most disarming songwriting of McKagan's winding career.

Stray Cats spit out allusions to their idols and classic oldies, nod at surf rock and country mythos, play a few blues shuffles, and generally have a whale of a good time. It's notable that these high spirits are evident on a reunion album because they were largely absent on the trio's previous reunions: this time, it sounds like the group is in it for fun, and that makes a huge difference.

The best moments of Rainford prove that Perry's creative flame is still burning bright, more than five decades after he first began making music.

Overall, Where the Action Is is another reliably interesting and well-written addition to the band's latter-day renewal.

With the exception of a couple specific later singles, this is the best and most comfortable the O'Jays have sounded since the '70s.

Though some fans wishing it were still 2008 may disagree, most fans will embrace Whitechapel's new progression as natural, necessary, and welcome.