Grey's voice is sometimes treated in a way to further emphasize the urgent bulletin-like quality of the material, but otherwise, this crackles with spontaneity, and the band at times plays with nearly the same ferocity displayed on some of their 1980-1982 output.

While The Secret of Us finds her still vulnerable and singing with an audible frown, her delivery is stronger, arrangements are more sweeping and robust, and at least some of the songs are trying to look forward.

Unprecedented Sh!t easily marks a new phase recording by DiFranco. She and Burton present her work in an illuminating context that invites close listening, without a hint of compromise.

If Delaware wasn't shoegaze enough for purists, 1991 certainly is. Far from being rough sketches, these demos are full-fledged songs with all the hallmarks of shoegaze 1.0, albeit with an endearingly hissy sound quality that only enhances their nostalgia.

Given Adebimpe's legacy with TV on the Radio and his lengthy break from music, expectations for his debut album were high, but Thee Black Boltz' passionate, imaginative songs more than meet them.

Confrontational in ways quiet and loud, Abyss is a testament to Anika's fierce artistic independence and gift for haunting moods.

Stylistically, Friday remains as hard to pin down as ever, but in terms of ambition and drive, she's never been more focused.

A really strong album, one that finds the band circling back to the reasons they started the group while also exploring new, very interesting territory.

Hurts Like Hell is a lovely, poignant record that may not be explicitly about motherhood but is ready to take it on.

It's a holistic, warm, and beautifully executed record melding blues, R&B, guitar rock, and Americana in an integrated vision that revels in tradition while offering a new, roots-rich vision of popular music.

A meditative work reflecting on loss and commemoration, as well as nature and the environment. The slowly unfolding composition, divided into two parts, is intended for deep listening.

Hope!! may be bursting at the seams, but its communal power is also life-giving.

This is a king rightfully reclaiming his dominion.

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

Still Trippin' builds on Taye's past triumphs, such as the remarkable 2015 EP Break It Down, and ends up a sprawling yet cohesive work that reaches toward mainstream accessibility without diluting or compromising the genre's essence. If you're new to footwork, this is just as valid a starting point as DJ Rashad's Double Cup.

Balancing bright, colorful electro-pop with a slight air of melancholy is hardly a new trick for Albarn yet there's a clean, efficient energy propelling Cracker Island that gives the album a fresh pulse.

Sir Richard Bishop is an artist who has shown he can point his music in any number of directions, and the ten tracks on Oneiric Formulary each lead the listener to someplace worth visiting.

Sweep It Into Space boasts some of the catchiest and most immediate songs Dinosaur Jr. has released since their reunion. There aren't many sharp turns or wild surprises, just a one-of-a-kind band doing what they do best.

Every Acre is H.C. McEntire's third solo album, and with each release she has demonstrated that she's a major talent who deserves to be recognized by anyone with a taste for a well-told story of one woman's life.

The Take Off and Landing of Everything is better still [than 2011's Build a Rocket Boys!], demonstrating that the band knows how to seize the spoils of success.

Fans needn't worry that the group's vitality has faded, however. If anything, it takes advantage of a broader palette as Cymbals Eat Guitars continue to dip into more styles without losing their warped, crunchy center.

Expressing a wide range of emotions in a short timespan, Allegiance and Conviction is a vivid, engrossing experience, and just as vital as every other entry in Windy & Carl's unbeatable catalog.

They're all laced with small details, subtle twists, and gradual intensification.

It's the sound of a great band evolving with the times, even as those times try their soul and conscience.

Although it doesn't re-capture that album's [Things Take Time, Take Time] angsty, barbed qualities, it does embody a similar nerviness in combination with the more singer/songwriter-oriented rock reflections of what came in between.

It's just a flat-out good-time rock & roll record and that's all that really matters.

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.

Classic without being too traditional or contrived, Tournament of Hearts is the sound of the Constantines operating at the peak of their powers.

All told, Prize acts as a companion album to What a Boost, further distinguishing Plain's idiosyncratic sound.

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.

While Hot Dreams is slightly less immediate than Creep on Creepin' On, its potent cocktail of menace, glamour, and vulnerability is nothing less than transporting.

Suede can still dwell on big issues of love and mortality, but now that the past is in perspective, it all means a little bit more and what lies ahead is a little more precious, and that wide view makes Night Thoughts all the more moving.

Their music is evolving in sync with their technology, and AAI presents a bold challenge to conventional notions of creativity, authenticity, learning, and emotion.

With Reznor and Ross supporting such a weighty artistic vision, Halsey takes a huge leap forward with this course-changing opus, a revelation that finally presents their most authentic representation of self.

Beabadoobee refuses to be boxed in as she grows as a woman and artist, and on This Is How Tomorrow Moves, she dares her listeners to keep up with her changes.

By maintaining a more or less accessible alt-pop center, Mangan and company have given themselves free reign to fill in the edges with whatever they see fit, which they do with gusto throughout Club Meds' perfectly acceptable 45-minute runtime, which is something that only happens when a band, not an individual, is firing on all cylinders.

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.

This music confirms the Mountain Goats have talent that's on par with their ambitions, and this album is a thoughtful, dramatically satisfying experience.

It is, thus far, his masterpiece, and as beautiful a pop record as can be made these days.

This remains a stronger and more engaging document of Lone Justice's brief moment of greatness than has ever seen authorized release, and 30 years on, this still sounds like a band that could have taken on the world if they'd been allowed to follow their own path.

The upbeat "Motors Runnin" is a standout, addressing the endless and unpredictable ride of being alive while summing up the restless wonder, excitement, and confusion that lie at the core of the album and find a different voicing from song to song.

The sad country warmth of "Play the Game" and the starkly fingerpicked front half of "Soon" are soothing in their implied heartache, inviting listeners to lean in and try to untangle McMahon's lyrics through her downcast mumbling. Sadly, those same mumbled vocals sometimes become a hindrance during the slower sections of the album, distracting from the otherwise well-written songs. Still, delivery affectations aside, Salt serves as a solid introduction to this sensitive and engaging artist.

While at this point there's some unavoidable self-awareness to their craft, it does nothing to take away from the exhilarating fun and lawless excitement of the album.

He may be prolific, but he certainly isn't spread too thin, as The Good Fight is inspired, infectious, and artistically grand.

Tightening up some loose ends might have made The Waeve more cohesive, but at its best, it's elegant, unpredictable music made for the sheer rejuvenating pleasure of it.

Amidon may have outdone himself when it comes to Salt River's ability to be at once trippy, bucolic, sophisticated, and simple, like a dream about a folksong.

It shocks by sounding as vital as Dinosaur Jr. ever has. Deciding to not to build upon the expansive textures of I Bet on Sky, the trio nevertheless sounds vividly oversaturated throughout Give a Glimpse of What Yer Not.

Mason's career has been one of constant starts and stops and side-project misdirections (for his fans, at least), so the straightforwardly eccentric Boys Outside is clearly a record to treasure.

Electric Circus does suffer from that which ails many contemporary hip-hop albums -- too many guests and a generally lengthy program drag this one down a tad. Nonetheless, Electric Circus is a brave and ruthless statement wrapped in sincerity.

All the restless energy adds up to a few too many diversions.

Nearly all of Wig in a Box is both unique and successful.

After five years, the band has lost nothing, only gained.

Without a concept to tout, The Grind Date doesn't gel like AOI: Bionix, but it does show De La Soul keeping everything together more than 15 years after their debut.

One long angelic hymn for an insane world with the intimacy of a friend playing guitar in your living room and the grandeur of Sigur Rós.

There are moments of quirky holiday splendor -- moments akin to some of the best material on Greetings from Michigan and Illinoise -- that make plowing through the entire five-EP set a pleasure.

Spread over 15 tracks, the combination wears thin at several points, and several songs feel more like their creator's solo work than a composite product. Monsters of Folk has moments on undeniable beauty, though, and when the musicians pitch their voices atop one another--as they do to notable effect on the gorgeous "Slow Down Jo"-the benefits of teamwork are more than clear.

It's his most downtempo effort, and all that much more soothing and captivating.

The creative progression O'Brien exhibits here leaves no lingering questions of doubt whether he would succumb to the dreaded second album syndrome, and regardless of awards, wayland sees the Irishman at his best, both musically and lyrically.

Even more ambitious, rewarding and exciting than its predecessor, Carnival of Souls is a thrilling album that raises expectations for the trilogy's final installment to the skies.

On Quietly Blowing It, M.C. Taylor reminds us he knows how we feel, and that he feels the same way; perhaps that helps only so much, but there's a lot to be said for a friendly voice during a hard time, and that's just what this album delivers.

At first this can feel less immediate than previous work, but much like Phosphorescent's winding journey, C'est La Vie burns slowly and leaves impressions both spiritual and sonic that merit repeat listens.

The 14 songs here seem stronger upon each listen, with the songs soon seeming indelible.

She proves adept at so many styles within her chosen niche on Fading Lines that her next album could go in any of four or five directions and sound very good.

Despite its occasional unevenness, the album is exciting in both its moments of audience-tested hitmaking and when Megan cracks the veneer of her invincible persona to share feelings that are difficult, messy, and real.

If not quite as substantive as Malibu, this is one of those albums that can be played continuously without risk of depreciation.

The rest of the record is filled with an invigorating amount of passion, noise, and power that impressively takes their roots and influences to a new place. Not bad for a debut album; it bodes very well for further endeavors.

It's an album that forces the listener to abandon nostalgia and accept that things are different now. It's not a comforting notion, and it's one that may sit awkwardly for listeners who prize raw guitars over refined aesthetic, but The Center Won't Hold demonstrates what a fearless band Sleater-Kinney is.

Songs in the Key of Yikes is proof that Superchunk hasn't lost a step and remains a one-of-a-kind band.

Courtney Marie Andrews is a first-rate talent, and Valentine shows us she can move in a number of different directions and still deliver something remarkable.

Heaven comes across as a more or less triumphant culmination of the Walkmen's first decade, and the fact that happiness fits the band better than anyone could have expected is just a welcome bonus.

Girls' 2009 album (simply titled Album) actually proved itself worthy of the hype upon its release.

On Exile in the Outer Ring, Anderson calls on listeners to maintain their humanity in powerful, unnerving ways that make it one of her finest achievements.

Masters of mood that they are, Radiohead digitally weave stuttering, glitchy loops of drums and guitars with real instruments, Thom Yorke's mournful moan and keening falsetto acting as a binding agent, creating an alluringly dour atmosphere.

As inspirational as Bikini Kill's life-affirming blasts of punk could be, they were never as accessible and simply fun as the '80s synth pop modes of Run Fast, which somehow manage to be equal parts poetic, provocative, moving and enjoyable.

The timing for a change was right, too, as their 2009 record 200 Million Thousand wasn't one of their best, it was OK but seemed a little forced and uninspired. Arabia Mountain is the absolute opposite and could be their best album yet.

Recapturing the creativity that made his work stand out in the U.K. club scene around the turn of the 2010s, Playing Robots into Heaven is some of the most honest work of Blake's career.

There's a fair number of meandering moments, but the parts that actually go places are something to behold.

The Town That Cursed Your Name is yet another step forward in the rapid and ongoing evolution of the Reds, Pinks & Purples. Donaldson's songwriting is brilliant and intelligent as always, and its wry charm shines through no matter what new direction he takes with his tunes.

Romantiq's compositions manage to be soothing and reflective even as they restlessly pursue unknown sounds and feelings.

What makes the record good is the level of dedication the bandmembers throw into their work, the lovely walls of sound they build on each track, and most of all the sense of untrammeled joy they infuse their music with.

While the first half of the album may sound like a watered-down Blazing Arrow, everything picks up when the duo unveil two of the grooviest message tracks since Stevie Wonder's "Livin' for the City" in "The Fall and Rise of Elliot Brown" and "Black Diamonds and Pearls."

Not only is it a special volume of Fabric's impressive series, it's a living piece of music that presents Daphni at its most vital.

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?

One can't help but think that just a little bit more spice might have elevated all of these beautiful ideas out of the trappings of their now painfully insular song structures.

Twins is a bright moment in a nearly ceaseless evolution, and one of the most fluid and successfully ambitious in Ty Segall's catalog.

The combined effect of the sometimes tortured words and the gentle, never-conflicting currents of folk, anthemic rock, cinematic instrumentals, and mannered pop create a welcome impression of a group that acknowledges that they've entered a comfortable middle age but are happy to fight against complacency however they can.

After a pair of lovingly crafted though similar-sounding albums, Apricity is a welcome venture into uncharted territory for Syd Arthur, and displays their willingness to grow and expand.

Throughout it all, A Flame My Love, A Frequency resonates with a healing warmth that is a testament to the remarkable purity of Colleen's music, as well as to the importance of beauty and hope when life is hard.

The band show significant growth here on what is easily their most accomplished effort to date.

Drag on Girard isn't a minute too long or too short. It's another invigorating chapter in Purling Hiss' ongoing saga, and their scraggly guitar rock is in its finest and most exciting form for the album's entire duration.

The later discs reflect the relative comfort Dylan and the Band performed with, leading to a more polished joint effort. That said, there's plenty of rawness here, but the chaos on the early discs is missed. The 1974 Live Recordings will only appeal to Dylan completists and historians. The music is entirely (and wonderfully) remixed.

On Untame the Tiger, balance doesn't mean compromise; as Timony works her way through grief, she creates moving, memorable songs that fans of any point in her career can appreciate.

Felice is bedeviled by an unspecified sadness and longing, and that only adds to the resonance of well-constructed songs that will appeal to triple-A radio in the U.S., now that his band finally has gotten a purchase on its homeground.

It may not be as pretty as Red Devil Dawn or as road trip-ready as Forfeit/Fortune, but Breaks in the Armor has got more gas in the tank than either of them.

Steve Mason is realizing his musical vision confidently, typified by the jump between the rather moving sampling of Brazilian commentary from a glorious Ayrton Senna lap, complete with soaring engines ("The Last of the Heroes"), to the pained yet undoubtedly uplifting, piano-led gospel of "Lonely."

While a few more songs on this level would have taken Hell Bent from good to great, the vibrancy Potty Mouth bring to angsty reflections like "Sleep Talk" and kiss-offs like "Shithead" (one of the few times the band actually sounds riot grrrl-ish) makes it the kind of album listeners can take to heart.

Titling her second album Water, she acknowledges that she's in her element, and more assured of her work than ever. Post-transition, her voice has developed into a more delicate yet deeply expressive instrument, and her soaring vocals magnificently blend with her rumbling beats and atmospheric, neo-classical arrangements.

At times on their first album they seemed a little like a novelty band with their note-perfect retro approach, but here they sound like a serious group, the kind that breaks hearts and changes lives.