With Brent, Dave has a singer/songwriter who is sly, well-versed in the history of country and funky Americana, who places equal emphasis on the song and the performance. As a result, Providence Canyon is fleet on its feet but also substantial: it’s a record that can be enjoyed as a vibe, as a sharp musical interplay and as a set of song that are malleable yet enduring.

Mark Kozelek is as long and rambling as one would expect from the singer/songwriter, but his mixture of poignancy, humanity, and levity continues to make his music worth hearing.

Throughout 7, Beach House feel more concerned with capturing moments fully rather than conforming to notions of what a cohesive album is. That these songs sound like they came from different albums is ultimately more refreshing than disorienting, and the excitement that courses through each track is palpable.

At its core, Attention Attention is a fun, engaging ride, maintaining Shinedown's power while making subtle bids to attract a wider audience.

There really isn't anyone else who combines ear-bleeding noise, desolation, and ravenous beauty like the Body, and I Have Fought Against It is one of their most emotionally heavy albums yet.

There's nothing fashionable about the Sea and Cake's music, and therein lies much of their charm.

Murmurations is a standout moment for Deep Throat Choir, while in the Simian Mobile Disco canon it sits as an interesting and pleasant experience but, ultimately, a sideline in their discography.

What makes the record so satisfying is how Millsap winds up fusing this thoroughly Southern sound with his literate, folky storytelling, which means that Other Arrangements is vibrant and alive even when he's evoking styles that have been around for ages.

Just as the group's first two albums fit into the shoegaze revival category without coming close to playing by the rules, Miserable Miracles demonstrates Pinkshinyultrablast's truly unique approach to making pop music, which is equally as exciting and refreshing.

All eight compositions do a fine job of painting audio portraits of locations one might remember from childhood, with each maintaining a distinct character, but also resembling background scenery. Recommended for fans of Robin Guthrie's solo albums who are in the mood for something just a little bit less hazy or drowsy.

Godfather II isn't bad, but coming after a career highlight, it's quite disappointing.

Much of the spooky sparseness of Girly-Sound was stripped away on Exile in Guyville, which in this context feels big, bold, and colorful--not the beginning of something, but rather the culmination of fearless bedroom exploration. When paired, it's impossible to deny that both Exile and Girly-Sound retain their artful power: What's amazing about this reissue is, it points out how distinct those two projects are.

Maximizing that powerful female energy is Tennessee-raised lead singer Rachael Price, whose dusky, highly resonant vocals, reminiscent of Dusty Springfield, ground the album with a warm virtuosity. It also doesn't hurt that Kearney, guitarist Mike Olson, drummer Mike Calabrese, and touring keyboardist Akie Bermiss frame her in earthy, organic arrangements with a tactile, live-in-the-studio feel.

If Shakey Graves sometimes seems to overplay his arty hand, pushing the record toward the brink of murk, it's the price of ambition and there is much here to admire.

Like so many records of 2018, it is clearly cut together on computer, with dense rhythms competing with smooth surfaces--but also not chasing pop trends. Instead, it's a mature modern album, one filled with questions but also curiously settled, a combination that makes World's Strongest Man more rewarding with each listen.

As the value of Cole's witticisms, and the intellect required to decrypt full meaning of his verses, continues to be debated, the increased strength in his clear-cut writing evinces promise of greater work ahead.

At 33 minutes, the album is an intense but abrupt ride, with both musicians soaring into bold new territories. For dedicated fans who couldn't get enough, pre-orders of the album were bundled with a bonus disc containing eight additional tracks from the same sessions, which are just as mindblowing as the album proper, if not more so.

It's a wonderful debut, and even if Clarke and Cut Worms veer away from this sound in the future, at least he will have left the world this one slice of genius retro-pop.

Be More Kind is musically inventive in its use of punk, folk, soul, and electronica but deceptively simple in its message, which is as complex as the times we live in.

Profoundly authentic, nostalgic, and graceful throughout, The Horizon Just Laughed does nothing less than reaffirm that Jurado is one of the best songwriters in the business.

The singer and songwriter's second album similarly displays different approaches that skillfully build off and depart from the previous release.

As striking as Immunity was, Singularity feels more developed, and it's ultimately a tough call as to which album is more exciting.

They're a band who refuse to stop moving and exploring their sound, emerging every time with a more refined approach to the music. That they can achieve this with integrity should be celebrated, except maybe this time with a bottle of red wine instead of cheap beer.

An absurdly emotional, innovative album.

The set's detailed liner notes are fascinating and well written, and the music is as lovely and evocative as one would expect from Eno's ambient works.

Anxiety-stricken yet somehow finding ways to enjoy life, BMSR sound creatively re-energized on the excellent Panic Blooms.

While Megaplex has its moments, the pleasures are fleeting and listeners aren't left with much meat to stick to their bones.

It's easily the band's most direct album, but rather than dumbing things down, they've removed anything that might get in the way of their messages. The more defiant they are, the more accessible they get, and they kick off the album with some of their hookiest songs.

While this is easily the most loaded Monáe album in terms of guests, with Brian Wilson, Stevie Wonder, and Grimes among the contributors, there's no doubt that it's a Wondaland product. It demonstrates that artful resistance and pop music are not mutually exclusive.

Rather than breaking the mold, Dr. Dog instead double down on their strengths to make Critical Equation a surprisingly vital outing.

Throughout, very human lyrics, wistful intervals, a mechanical palette, and components that are sometimes altered to confuse organic and inorganic make for an elegant synth art-pop. Like the world her lyrics inhabit, it is icy and intimate at once.

Conquistador marks another fine chapter in this intrepid frontiersman's musical journey.

Altogether, it's a rock-solid set, notable for good songs as well as a distinctive if simultaneously throwback sound.

Working with producer Shawn Everett (the War on Drugs, Alabama Shakes), Sheff has crafted his least-Okkervil River-sounding Okkervil River outing to date, employing a colorful palette of sonic hues that flirt with everything from soft rock and soul to left-field '80s synth pop and Beatlesque classic rock.

As was the case with Hills End, the sonic and architectural puppetry is meticulous and heartfelt, but the absence of any sort of innovation induces a sort of pleasant fatigue that grows decidedly less agreeable with repeated spins.

You're Driving Me Crazy is as energetic as any live show. Of the three successive recordings done in this way, this one stands head and shoulders above for its inspired performances and choices of material.

Right from the outset, the album is filled with dense, complex vocal arrangements, with both MCs (as well as their guests) delivering dozens of vicious caricatures of fake rappers and "woke" folks. ... They complement each other well, and both drive the album's concept.

It has a similarly big-screen and disparate, primarily beat-less approach to ambient music [as 2016's Under The Sun]. Each track evokes a distinct scene.

It's a tight, sometimes bombastic, sometimes sweet mix of old-school hard, prog, and psych rock with a shot of indie-era slacker keeping it all grounded--at least for the most part.

On-stage, these same songs straighten themselves out and, in the process, get a touch lighter. On Tonight's the Night, it often appeared as if Young and his crew learned the songs as they recorded them, but on Roxy, the Santa Monica Flyers have the changes under their belts and are really in the mood to have a good time.

He constructs ten sturdy songs that give Mr. Jukebox the foundation to be something more than nostalgia. By exceeding so well in his craft, Hedley makes the old sounds feel new again.

The Tree of Forgiveness is autumnal John Prine, but it's also a potent reminder that his remarkable skills as a songwriter and his rough-hewn excellence as a singer haven't failed him yet.

Nostalgic Butthole Surfers fans will find plenty to like on Pinkus Abortion Technician, but they're hardly the only ones.

Hardly a late-career masterpiece, Evil Spirits at least shows that the Damned are still smart and witty while paying attention to the global chaos of the era of Brexit and Trump, and they haven't lost their touch in the recording studio.

Among Ras G's more contemplative releases, Stargate Music is a woozy, enticing interpretation of the human life cycle.

As odd Neil Young albums go, Paradox doesn't hold a candle to Americana or A Letter Home, but this could have been trimmed down to an EP and it would have worked better. Fans will want to give it a listen, but they might not pull it off the shelf again for a while.

Personne d'Autre finds Hardy in full command of her authority as a songwriter and, despite her voice's wear and tear, the full weight and charm of her signature as a singer. If this is indeed her final recording, it's one she can be proud of and one for fans to celebrate.

No longer able to croon as he once did, Nelson opts for playing around with the rhythms of his delivery, a move that makes him seem limber, adding a sense of vitality to Last Man Standing. Willie realizes he's not going to be here forever but he's made up his mind to make the most of his time here, and that's why Last Man Standing feels richer than so many self-conscious meditations on mortality.

Hatfield is a sharp record-maker, understanding when to let harmonies pile up and when to let analog keyboards set the tone, a gift that turns Juliana Hatfield Sings Olivia Newton-John into a sumptuous aural pleasure. The album is also compelling as a testament to the power of fandom, illustrating how this kind of love is sustaining and creatively nourishing.

A consistently winning album, Primal Heart finds Kimbra hitting the sweet spot between imagination and accessibility--if her nods to the mainstream get more ears pointed her way, so much the better.

Sparrow is sharply constructed as an album, setting a mood with its first song and then finding variations on this lush, enveloping sound. It's a record designed for late nights, whether those nights are lonely or romantic.

Sonder is a logical next step for TesseracT, one that stands on par with anything they've previously released, yet evidences more authority, musical restlessness, and sonic multi-dimensionality than anything in their previous catalog.

Like Hermits on Holiday, it's first-rate experimental rock made by two musicians with interesting, complicated ideas and the skills to bring them to life.

Nothing here is particularly outside the wheelhouse of Old Crow Medicine Show, but the songs are finely etched and the performances vivid, elements that separate Volunteer from its predecessors. Here, Old Crow Medicine Show feel focused and fully realized, as if they're just hitting their stride after two decades in the business.

Shaggy and Sting might not first appear to be an ideal match, but they're both rooted in reggae and are both international stars, so they share a vernacular that helps turn 44/876 into a surprisingly enjoyable pan-international pop album.

The National Jazz Trio's style can seem too sparse and basic to make an impression at first, but their approach exposes genuine emotions, and it's unconventional enough to elude easy comparison.

It's a more thoughtful, philosophical King Tuff, for certain, but The Other is far from a downer, with Thomas' individuality and catchy pop sensibilities still intact.

There's just enough looseness in these performances to honor the punk side of their personality, but LiE finds them rocking as hard and as confidently as they did in their heyday, if not more so.

Black balances his pop leanings and prog inclinations well throughout the record, never tipping too far in one direction or the other, and always making music that is pleasing to both the part of the brain that wants to think and the part that wants to feel.

The album covers a lot of ground, switching between abstract interpretations of plush soul to dark, nervy club music from track to track, and the group maintains its focus throughout, resulting in a rich, engrossing experience.

Each song a wildly different part of the whole, yet unmistakably belonging to the same powerful beast. It's a cohesive and bold statement from A Perfect Circle, a triumphant comeback after too much time away.

It may be premature to lump Say Sue Me in with such legendary acts [as Pale Saints, Slowdive, Black Tambourine], but Where We Were Together is so undeniably good it's hard not to do just that.

By grounding it so heavily in the metal that served Spinal Tap so well, Shearer turns Smalls Change into a bit of a grueling hourlong experience--there may be the occasional taste of prog pomp or a Richard Thompson cameo, but it's all in the context of hard rock--but listened to as a series of EPs, the craft behind its silliness shines through and it's quite palatable. Which makes it not all that different from a John Entwistle album.

In short, the Messthetics are not Fugazi, but they are a bold, bracing, fearless band from Washington, D.C. playing music that challenges and dazzles, and that's more than enough reason to make their debut album worth your time.

The album is still a whole lot of fun, filled with the childlike sense of wonder common to much of Paradinas' best work. The late '90s were clearly a magical era for him, and Challenge Me Foolish is just as essential as any of his other releases of material from that period.

America succeeds in representing its namesake: it's confused, inspirational, and, like Thirty Seconds To Mars circa 2018, at a serious crossroads where the future is uncertain but oddly hopeful.

Even if listeners lack that namesake self-assurance that the band seem to care so much about, by the end of Confident Music for Confident People, they might believe they can achieve anything with this album as their effortlessly cool soundtrack.

Veirs may not be the most commanding presence, but she more than held her own against the sizable personalities of Case and lang, and she imbues The Lookout with that same quiet confidence, deftly weaving richly detailed, forward-thinking confections out of confessional singer/songwriter tropes.

This seamless blend of aesthetics is also why Resistance Is Futile works musically. First, it comes on strong-all sharp edges and gleam-but once the blare fades, the melodies and their accompanying sweetness lingers, leaving a lasting impression behind.

Pearson's point has been made: he's upended the high expectations his 2011 album set, no longer seeming like a soul-baring troubadour. Whether that was worth a seven year wait, only fans can decide.

Equally raw and sleek, Pinned is one of the band's most cohesive albums--even if change is a constant in A Place to Bury Strangers' world, so is the quality of their music.

Nothing here is bound to pass "2 On" in terms of popularity, but the highlights are filled with rich details and seductive hooks, heard at full power on the slow jams "He Don't Want It" and "No Contest." The smoldering, slightly bluesy "Salt" and sweetly aching piano ballad "Fires and Flames"--two additional highlights--invalidate all claims that Tinashe is one-dimensional.

Adult Fear is their third impressive album in a row, one that's essential to hear for anyone who likes hazy, trippy, and unassumingly captivating psychedelia.

Significantly less danceable than some of the artist's other albums, the album simultaneously feels more introverted and more expansive.

The overall production aesthetic is slick and appealingly moody, with the hint of a smile to reveal just how much fun Rouse is having dabbling in this sonic milieu. It's a welcome break after the heaviness of his previous outing and, with his smart pop songwriting and clear vocal delivery, the veteran singer takes quite easily to the role of new romantic bard.

Undying Color was clearly the beginning of a new phase for Mind Over Mirrors, but its follow-up feels more complete, and hopefully anticipates something even more dazzling.

The result is a splendid little record that simultaneously feels brand new and like a lost gem.

Cocoa Sugar mystifies before it gratifies, but it reflects a modern global chaos as much as it does a personal one.

The forceful sound of Girl Going Nowhere may camouflage the subtleties of her songwriting, but it's also an asset, as the production, along with her powerhouse voice, demand attention.

For the most part, the album sounds bright and energetic rather than dark and gloomy, but there's still an undercurrent of sadness to some of the lyrics, such as the heartbroken lament "Gold Star." Even still, this doesn't detract from the ecstatic spirit of the album, which is refreshingly creative and unpredictable.

12 proves that they refuse to simply tread water, and it's smart, heartfelt music from an uncommonly great band. If only more people outside of Canada knew just how good they are.

The album feels open-hearted and mischievous, a combination that is disarming upon the first listen and nourishing upon subsequent plays.

Johnny Cash: Forever Words has some brilliant moments and is an often-moving tribute to Cash's gifts as a writer, but as a listening experience, it's unfortunately inconsistent. Maybe some of this was better left on paper.

The Disarmers are the perfect bunch of honky tonk rockers to help Shook bring these tunes across. 2015's Sidelong showed Sarah Shook & the Disarmers had plenty of potential, and Years shows there are plenty more great songs where those came from.

E's gifts as a songwriter and vocalist are still sharp, and if you've ever been partial to Mark Everett's slightly skewed but engagingly literate outlook on the world, then The Deconstruction should meet with your approval.

The artists take risks, and they--and the songbook--come out sounding the better for it.

Taken on its own terms, Revamp is dull, but its companion album Restoration: Reimagining the Songs of Elton John and Bernie Taupin--a modern country tribute that takes chances--reveals what a missed opportunity this is.

This balance between over-the-top party starters and thoughtful reflection makes Invasion of Privacy an impressive debut for a rising star who can back up her outspokenness with raw talent.

Fortunately, Goat Girl's singles offer a more pulled-together version of the band's bracing sound, whether it's the wry jangle of "Cracker Drool," the hip-shaking sass of "The Man," or the sexy, sneering defiance of "Country Sleaze." Moments like these are so compelling that they suggest Goat Girl are just beginning to tap into their potential on this exciting debut.

This is the album where Hinds become a great band. They've got the songs, they've got the attitude, and they've got the sound; all their potential has been realized and it's a joy to experience.

Moosebumps tries so hard to replicate the debut that it ends up sounding a bit formulaic, even with an expanded budget and a wider sonic scope. It's still an impressive effort, and worth checking out if you're already a fan, but newcomers absolutely need to hear the original first.

The overall tone of Sister Cities is intense and, at times, comes across as unrelentingly dour. Still, the Wonder Years' maturation from suburban pop punk ennui to (literal) world-weary emo desperation feels like a logical progression, and it's hard to fault them for tackling bigger subjects.

Erase Me can be considered yet another radical shift in the band's lifetime of variation, a risk that pays off with an open mind and open ears.

It's hard to fault the album overall; even though there's a trend for magpie-esque records, Sex & Food still has an instantly identifiable sound. It may not reach the peaks of the previous album but it's stuffed with ideas, and proves that Nielson's consistently shifting tone finds creative strength where others might stretch themselves too thin.

While something is almost always askew, on average, the album feels a little broader and brighter than Painted Shut. Thankfully, it does so without sacrificing lyrical impact or smoothing out Hop Along's distinctive, compelling sound.

She and her team of musicians, writers and producers straddle the line between twang and glitter on just about every song; sometimes it leans more in favor of line dancing, sometimes the glitter ball takes over, especially on the shimmering "Raining Glitter.". Sometimes, like on "Live A Little" or the very hooky single "Dancing," it's the best of both worlds.

Bettye LaVette has been enjoying a remarkable career resurgence in the 21st century, and Things Have Changed demonstrates why--she's as strong and compelling an interpretive vocalist as you're likely to hear in this day and age, and given a set of great songs, she can work magic with ease.

The sunlit reflections that Wasner traversed as Flock of Dimes are similarly parsed on The Louder I Call, though Wye Oak is still very much a collaboration between her and Stack. When working together, their push and pull remains an attractive part of their appeal and never more so than on this exciting outing.