The album points to the potential of future solo albums from both Girlpool members. Even though some of the huge shake-ups of instrumentation and songwriting styles work well, Tucker and Tividad rarely sound like they're connecting and it makes What Chaos Is Imaginary harder to connect with.

At nine songs, Look Alive never wears out its welcome, and its commitment to sonic versatility, no matter how nostalgia-driven, helps temper some of its more forgettable moments. In evoking the '80s synth pop of their youth, Guster have unearthed a small gem that gives off a familiar, yet undeniably dazzling shine.

At once slight and overdone, Why You So Crazy is one of the least rewarding trips the Dandy Warhols have taken their fans on during their career.

The label-defiant marvel again switches up her supporting co-producers and cooks up another half-hour of authoritative progressive pop.

Easily his most accessible material, there's still a lot of uncomfortable emotional and sonic wreckage to sift through. Peeling back the layers of grime and giving listeners a chance to sift through it for themselves makes I Have to Feed Larry's Hawk feel like a debut from this already storied songwriter.

Where I Wasn't Born to Lose You was electric with the excitement of Swervedriver's rebirth, Future Ruins is the sound of a band that's happy to be back and ready to get down to the business of pushing their sound forward.

Amo is a genre-bending thrill ride that marks a brave new era for the band. Placing a significant amount of trust in their fan base, Bring Me the Horizon deliver an utterly refreshing and forward-thinking statement that finds them in complete control of their vision.

Taken on a strictly musical terms, The Teal Album is pretty anodyne stuff. Weezer replicates the arrangements of beloved songs, adds a bit more fuzz on the guitar solos, and flattens the vocal affectations, which amounts to one weird trick: Weezer doesn't attempt to make the songs their own, yet these versions unmistakably sound like Weezer.

With DNA, a revitalized Backstreet Boys exude an assured confidence, taking enough steps forward to continue their pop maturation without ignoring the hooks and harmonies that carried them all this way.

Far from reclusive, Weird is a gregarious, idiosyncratic pop album that invites the listener to meet it on its own terms, but Hatfield is absolutely fine if it's rejected. She's cool being on her own.

There's not much in the way of lyrics following the opening track, but she highlights her ethereal voice as an instrument on the harmonic study "Late Night Healing Choir." Taken together, Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars almost functions as a tone poem and is nearly as beautiful and elegant as its thematic inspirations.

Swindle aims high on No More Normal, which is clearly intended for a widespread audience rather than the U.K. underground massive, and its best moments are grand and inspirational.

Some artists stumble when they move on from a strongly minimal aesthetic, but Sneaks sounds justifiably confident on Highway Hypnosis, and this suggests any number of new directions where her talent could travel.

Maybe Krol isn't cool, but Power Chords shows he's fierce, fun, exciting, and real, and that always means more in the long run.

"Look Away," with its inventive and Eastern-tinged, Led Zeppelin III-inspired acoustic guitar work, the soulful and contemplative title cut, and the breezy, psych-folk-rocker "All Directions," are administered with equal amounts of nuance and backbone, showcasing the band's versatility in both songcraft and execution, a feat made all the more impressive by their predilection for recording live in the studio. That craftsmanship, no doubt bolstered by the group's adherence to a rigorous tour schedule, is the glue that keeps Feral Roots from bursting apart at the seams.

Bringing emotional weight and measured playfulness to every song while maintaining a fascinating, cosmic soundscape, it's an album that lingers.

Rat's Spit replaces Lines as the strongest chapter of Lynch's musical vision, arranging a vibrant and overflowing world of sounds and ideas so precisely that the songs never feel messy or overcooked.

FIDLAR strike out in a variety of different directions, landing some new tricks but slamming a lot more. The result is a scattershot collection that just doesn't hang together very well.

With Temporal, Julia Kent continues to craft cerebral yet accessible epics, encompassing a vast spectrum of emotions using a limited set of tools.

Tyler builds on his already sterling reputation as a player and composer, while further establishing himself as a bandleader, on this breezy but neatly sewn collection.

As it acknowledges current hardships and allow the tiniest glimmer of hope for tomorrow, It Won't Be Like This All the Time proves the Twilight Sad are making some of their most vital music more than a decade into their career.

Myth of a Man ultimately feels more like a Danny Lee Blackwell solo project than a Night Beats album, but it's a very good Blackwell solo album--a largely successful creative detour that shows he has more up his sleeve than expected, though fans of his more raucous sessions may be a bit thrown by it.

A front-loaded set song-wise, it maintains an effervescence and living-room danceability that has the potential to charm the masses.

There's no need to search for deeper meanings or enlightenment on Internationally Unknown. Instead, Cardy and Armstrong invite listeners to let go and enjoy the ride, which is an energetic, wild blast.

Tobacco's production throughout the album isn't quite as lo-fi or dirty-sounding as his solo work, and his presence is clearly felt, but he doesn't overpower Aesop. The two are a fitting match for each other, and their collaboration works as well as fans would expect.

These 12 songs represent artistic development and a strike at emotional vulnerability from a talent who could have tread well-known territory indefinitely. At times, the changes feel experimental and uneven, but when they connect, the shifting perspectives of Assume Form are refreshing.

I Used To Be Pretty is an unexpected triumph from a band far too compelling to be a one-off.

Mercurial as it is in terms of stylistic influence and intensity, the album feels woven together by a modestly shifting shared palette, and lyrics full of yearning and awareness.

All of this works nicely, and reinforces the notion that at over twenty years into their career, Papa Roach are handling maturity pretty well.

While it sometimes feels like Rogers could be even bolder than she is on Heard It in a Past Life, it's a strong debut that shows how well she's growing into her fame as well as all the dimensions of her music.

With Love Hates What You Become, Lost Under Heaven hit you in the heart right out of the gate, but then spend the rest of the album building you back up, hammering a crack into reality to let the light in. The album sticks with you even after coming to its crashing end.

The album is an ambitious and adventurous set of music that's every bit as engaged as anything they've ever released, and there's an undertow of discovery that makes their new music an adventure worth a spin or two.

On The Unseen In Between Gunn's guitar is the hub on which his songs turn, but is not their centerpiece. For guitar fans, there's an abundance of fine playing here, but the songwriter's aesthetic shift delivers listeners his most consistent album to date.

Well-conceived, vibrant, and executed with attitude and aplomb, About the Light is a career standout for Mason.

Subtract the handful of tracks that fall into this category [come off like bad imitations of Drake or the Weeknd] and what's left is a fun, very well-crafted EP of uplifting dance music, the best Bear has made yet. Add them back and the record ends up a very mixed, somewhat disappointing bag that takes Toro y Moi to some exciting new places, but also treads familiar ground.

Throughout Remind Me Tomorrow, she plumbs the depths of contentedness, setting her satisfaction to a sound that's nominally dark yet strangely comforting and nourishing. Even if this album doesn't speak to your specific life, it will nevertheless enrich it.

From the weariness and wonder in its title to the mix of delicacy and anger in its songs, Why Hasn't Everything Already Disappeared? is one of Deerhunter's most haunting and thought-provoking albums.

Older, wiser, and still passionate, Phoenix is a worthy continuation of Pedro the Lion's legacy with just enough spirit to set it apart from his 2010s solo work.

De Facto is the work of musicians seeking something sonically and emotionally better and getting very close to the burning, white-hot center of it all. It's a challenging listen at times, but there's never a moment where the effort doesn't feel worth it and the rewards of digging deep into the sounds and songs are many.

It doesn't just repeat the past, it mines it for gold while tossing out the dross, a process that works to refine this record until it gleams like a precious gem.

It will be interesting to see if You Tell Me is the start of something long-running or just a one-off. However it turns out, the album works as another argument in favor of the on-going genius of Peter Brewis and as an impressive introduction to the lovely music of Sarah Hayes.

Somehow, they manage to keep it engaging from start to finish; then again, that should be no surprise from two artists who rarely run out of ideas.

Even if it's familiar territory, he remains a master of this particular hip-hop niche, and Evil Genius is a late-era catalog highlight.

DiCaprio 2 surpasses everything the rapper offered before it, with his strengths in full focus at a level that can't help but remind of the career peaks of greats that came before him.

Even though the album is still arranged and produced with great care and Quever's vocals and melancholy melodies are as affecting and cozy as ever, there's a bit of extra energy and spirit in these songs that give the album a huge boost and help make this the best Papercuts album yet.

This trio kicked this out in a burst of powerful inspiration, and if this had been pressed up as a 45 in 1979, one of these tracks would probably ended up on a Killed By Death compilation by now. The C.I.A. is good noisy, cranky fun from folks who know how.

Though they include sentiments like "Romance is dead and done/And it hits between the eyes," songs such as "Romance" and "I Can't Keep You" are more up-tempo and incorporate drum kit and multi-part accompaniment, but the album's sound, on average, is less sustained and more frail than Daughter's, and the lyrics more personal.

Andy Partridge, Rivers Cuomo, and Peter Buck & Scott McCaughey all deliver new songs--and it has the same feel, blurring the lines between the past and present so thoroughly that it no longer matters to discover where they're separated. Schlesinger's presence is also a tell that Christmas Party leans into power pop. ... [Micky Dolenz's] having a great time, as is everybody else making the record, and it's hard for the listener at home not to smile too.

Offering a combination of Christmas classics and songs like the winter-themed "Sweater Weather," originally by pop group the Neighbourhood, and "When You Believe" from The Prince of Egypt, high-profile guests include Maren Morris and Kelly Clarkson.

Alt-country fans throwing a Christmas party will find Love the Holidays every bit as welcome as a big batch of spiked eggnog.

Overall, Not All Heroes advances Metro Boomin's technique, utilizing an Avengers-of-trap team to amplify the drama in his atmospherics and focus the hypnotic appeal of his sharp beat pops.

Simultaneously sad, strange, and warmly nostalgic, Some Rap Songs is excitingly listenable and emotionally connected despite its abstruse approach. The album's triumphs are in its fearless risk taking and the insight it allows into the journey of Earl Sweatshirt's constant creative regeneration.

Dummy Boy is unlikely to disappoint 6ix9ine fans, but for everyone else, there's little to back up the hype and controversy associated with the self-professed "King of New York."

While the energy tapers off on the second half of the album, these midtempo jams are as addictive as the euphoric singles, providing contemplative balance and additional opportunities to showcase each inspired collaboration. What Is Love? was worth the long wait, taking the promise of "Rather Be" and topping it many times over.

Whatever the artistic intent, Icarus Falls remains a monstrosity--a bountiful gift or a daunting challenge, depending on the listener--that deserves some attention if there's time and patience to spare.

Foxwarren remains both off-kilter and irresistibly comforting, like the feeling of the pull of sleep.

The album's remainder employs assorted hit-angling producers connected by pop success with young women. The Pains of Growing is consequently more fragmented and less consistent than Know-It-All, but Cara makes the best of it, generally writing in a slightly wiser and sharper manner from the same introverted homebody perspective.

Despite its intentionally unrefined character, the album is well crafted in terms of both songs and production balance, though they may not want to cop to it on record.

It's possible to hear the pure theatricality of Springsteen's performance, both in his oversized spoken introductions and singing. It becomes very clear that Springsteen is playing the part of Springsteen, exaggerating certain aspects of his life and persona for dramatic effect. This has a ripple effect through the songs-many of which are quite familiar, with a couple of latter-day numbers thrown in for good measure-which, in this context, feel written instead of lived.

Another triumph, Mandy reaffirms his mastery and hints at how much more he had to contribute.

Each of the songs are immediately reprised by dub versions, and these indulge in all of the spacy echo and delay effects one would expect, often improving on the originals. Overall, though, the music just doesn't seem quite as pushed to the outer limits as Back on the Controls. The Black Album isn't a major disappointment, but it isn't exceptional, either.

Cheap Thrills was the album that made Janis Joplin one of the biggest stars of her era (and rightly so), but Sex, Dope & Cheap Thrills reminds us she didn't go it alone, and it's the work of a strong and memorable band as well as a world-class singer.

Teleman prove that following their bliss is more important to them than more predictable markers of success, and it's hard to hear Family of Aliens as anything other than a soft-spoken declaration of independence.

Subtlety is the strength of The Tree: it can be heard as soothing, healing music, but its real rewards reveal themselves through close listening.

While it's true that Immortal doesn’t break new ground here, it was perhaps more important at this juncture to reassert their sound to fans as they move forward in the aftermath of Abbath's departure. They not only carry on here, but sound more like their unhinged, malevolent selves than ever.

The Public Image Is Rotten presents a thorough and uncompromised portrait of Lydon's work with PiL, and anyone interested in the many contexts he's created for his unique vision will find plenty to take in.

Overall, though, these songs are meant to exist in a complete volume, tied together gracefully with a sweetness that belies their complexity.

There's an abundance of low-wattage boasts about financial and libidinal surpluses, most of which could have been composed by a generator. Softer and more melodic cuts are indicated with all-lowercase track titles. ... If Yachty can find a way to be his goofy self and elevate his writing, he can rebound.

Listeners put off by Nash's cheekiness in the past may find her more relatable here, or at least more compelling, though Yesterday Was Forever still refuses to pander.

Apart from the sly and sweet 2-step rhythm on "Wasted Times," the sound of the EP is bleary R&B with beats that drag and lurch, suited for Tesfaye's routine swings between self-pity and sexual vanity, chemically enhanced from one extreme to the other.

We're Your Friends, Man proves that they (he?) haven't lost a bit of their vision and skill, and while it's hard to say where one should start investigating the Bevis Frond's massive body of work, this will give you the lay of the land just as well as most of their albums.

Romano has always been a tough artist to pigeonhole, but there's a feeling here of having shed a few more layers and dug a little deeper into his psyche, and the results are frequently exhilarating.

In looking to capture the ugliness of humanity and parse through the despair that slithers malevolently in its wake, Daughters have crafted their most vital outing to date.

As arranged by Good and Ferry, these are all wry and romantic productions that evoke the smoky ambiance of Babylon Berlin's Weimar Republic-era setting. Elsewhere, Ferry transforms the new wave sophistication of "While My Heart Is Still Beating" off 1982's Avalon into a slinky, half-lidded crawl, and similarly mutates the pop exotica of his 1985 title track "Boys and Girls" into a slow-burn flamenco fever dream.

Later lyrical transgression aside, the LP is a pleasurable thrill ride.

Skins takes that unrealized potential and cobbles together these tracks--basically b-sides and outtakes--strictly for fans who needed just ten more reasons to hear his voice.

Clocking in at over an hour, The Prophet Speaks breezes through its run-time with memorable performances and joyous vibes. This is a late-career surge that is all the more remarkable because Morrison really seems to be enjoying himself--he continues to hunger after the music that inspired his vocation in the first place.

What really makes this collection worthwhile is how these robust performances put the lie to the notion that acoustic Neil is sad, sensitive Neil.

They take more risks this time around, but not in a way that alienates the listener. The result is a sublime collection of freely expressive grooves which uplift and inspire.

Hey! Merry Christmas! delivers a solid shot of good cheer for the holidays, and if this doesn't get a party started when you put it on, you and your friends need to ask Santa to bring you some coolness.

Socks is a durable holiday gift, but one that's immensely more fun and enjoyable than its wry title implies.

This can result in highly intriguing experiences, such as the industrial drift of opening track "One on One" and the riveting "My Body," which matches its physical lyrics with muscular, glitchy drumming. Other tracks seem to meander a bit, however, and are hard to grasp at first. Still, the duo's haunting blend of challenging electronics and introspective, sometimes cathartic lyrics sounds unmistakably unique.

Supremely joyous and creative, Ens feels like the beginning of a new chapter for Holtkamp, and it's one of his most enjoyable works.

Those who expected Blow. to be McCaslin's return to jazz will likely be disappointed. That said, those who enjoy adventurous rock--indie, prog, and otherwise--will likely find the album to be greatly enjoyable and perhaps even revelatory.

The spacious nature of Sequence makes it a challenging listen even for those versed in experimental approaches. At times the band's long-winded emptiness is as easy to lose focus on as it is to be mesmerized by. Patient listening, however, reveals a tightly focused and deliberately crafted work by a band pushing their art forward at an aggressive pace.

While simple and often musically somnolent, its heart-wrenching effect is ultimately hard to shake.

For all its entertaining art-pop feats, Isolation is just as remarkable for serious moments like "Killer," in which Uchis reaches a high degree of anguish that only real-life experience can arouse.

With eight tracks and a playing time of 30 minutes, it's an efficient debut without a weak song in the bunch, one noteworthy for its poise as well as its engaging eccentricity.

It's a lovely and deeply creative record that came so late in his career that it appeared to have already been relegated to history.

He's mined this territory before, notably in Gorillaz's Demon Days, yet the very fact that the Good, The Bad & The Queen function as a band, drawing strength from their own interplay, gives Merrie Land a human resonance that echoes long after the final song ends.

Despite the often bleak themes at play on the album, there's also a refreshing hopefulness on many of the tracks that speaks to Healy's own recovery and willingness to say yes to even the most frothy pop trend. However, taken as a whole, the album is often as disparate and difficult to wade through as the social-media landscape it hopes to comment on.

In its own quiet way, Warm is one of the most powerful works of Tweedy's career, and it's the sort of music too many of us need today.

Writing with a sentimental gaze was a dominant trait of MacIntyre's even as a young man, and now in middle age, he does so with the authority of a nearly two-decade career and accumulated personal history behind him on this excellent release.

Universal Beings is unique from any other jazz recording in 2018: It marries virtuoso musicianship, technological savvy, a keen editor's ear for creative inspiration, and a plethora of almighty grooves.

One of the many impressive aspects of the Capitol Studio Sessions is just how balanced Goldblum's skills are as he deftly moves his audience from perky vocal standards to swinging instrumental numbers--each transition aided, of course, with some very charming stage banter.

These tracks are vibrantly cross-pollinated, touching upon lush a cappella ("The National Manthem"), R&B flamenco ("Love a Girl Right"), and buzzy, exotic club bangers ("Wasabi"). No question, Little Mix are in charge here.

Hood's DJ-Kicks isn't quite as wild or personality-driven as his Fabric 39 mix from a decade earlier, but it's undeniably focused, and it clearly reaches its intended goal.

The first side is GospelbeacH at their best and the flip is, while admittedly not vital, still a lot of fun. Certainly anyone who liked the first two albums, and especially Another Summer of Love, needs to seriously consider adding this set to their collection.