Hip Hop Is Dead is not Illmatic.

To be sure, In Ghost Colours is a triumph of craftsmanship rather than vision--a synthesis and refinement of existing sounds rather than anything dramatically new and original--but it is an unalloyed triumph nonetheless, and one of the finest albums of its kind.

Take Me to the Land of Hell delivers performances with the kind of weight--and lightness--that can only come from an artist entering her ninth decade.

It's this momentum that makes Sexwitch such a transcendent album, and some of the most exciting music any of these artists have made.

Only the less impressive closing song "Fingers" sounds primed for mass appeal with traditional hooks. More compelling are the moments that showcase Lil Peep's unique relationship with self-expression and self-destruction. His delivery, lyrical choices, and sincere examination of difficult feelings seemed curious when he was alive, but take on a profound significance in the pallid wake of his death.

Despite the label move, it's a follow-up both stylistically and thematically to 2018's Lavender, as it revisits themes of displacement, isolation, and connection.

With nothing to prove and never having seemed too concerned about impressing anyone, the Melvins continue to take their wild-eyed chaos anywhere they choose -- Working with God goes to some places that are strange and unforeseen even for them.

While it can feel a bit dry at times, it shows that Ashworth's songwriting is as strong and affecting as ever.

Schmilco is clearly music for autumn, meant for cool nights, crunching through the leaves, and the occasional dark night of the soul. And it speaks volumes about Wilco that they could make two albums so different within such a short space of time, and both times giving us music that sounds like no one else.

Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Rendition Was In) demonstrates Sharon Jones gave 150 percent every time she stepped up to the microphone, regardless of the circumstances, and this album is a testament to her great talent as well as her gift for putting her own stamp on any song she chose to try on for size.

Even at its darkest and strangest, Koosha's music rarely feels like it's trying to punish or alienate the listener. He seems excited to explore the possibilities of music-making technology, and the results are endlessly fascinating.

There are moments when a few different "shades" of heavy are detected, including the beginning of the aforementioned "Shitlist" and the album-closer, "Lend Myself to the Night." However, for those who like excuse-free metal cranked to ten from beginning to end, DevilDriver have assembled one gnarly Beast for you.

A joyous re-creation of what they've always done best, while the performances are crisp and energized, as taut and passionate as ever. And Ed Stasium's production is smooth but natural, flattering these musicians without intruding on the natural punch of their music.

While key samples of blues, soul, and gospel vocals still make significant appearances, there's much more of Romare's own playing than on his past releases. Additionally, his tracks sound less wobbly and choppy than they used to, and they seem to progress a bit more.

Not every collaboration is as strong as the sum of its parts, but Painted Shrines is a wonderful example of two like-minded artists bringing out the absolute best in each other.

As far as Punch Brothers albums go, Hell on Church Street is a bit of an odd bird in that it's an album of covers chosen by someone else. As a nod to Rice, however, they honor his spirit well enough.

BROCKHAMPTON have consistently been on an upward trajectory, improving upon each previous effort with the maturity and skill of much more seasoned artists. Ending this part of their story with grace and simplicity, The Family is not only a thank-you letter to fans but to the guys themselves -- a band of brothers who came, conquered, and clocked out while still on top.

Cleveland's vocals are unfortunately low in the mix and it's often difficult to make out the lyrics, but approached simply as another instrument in the ensemble, her soft, breathy tone is lovely and enigmatic, and the layers of echoey guitars and '60s-style keyboard sounds blend wonderfully with her vocals.

Throughout its first ten tracks, Fatal Optimist offers occasional philosophical gems, like "Sometimes a good thing can break you/Sometimes a bad thing can save you" from "Good Lair," a song that also wonders, "Is it really that bad to cover up the sad?"

While Last Summer has enough ties to her work with the Fiery Furnaces to please fans, it gives Friedberger the time in the spotlight she deserves.

Despite the weight of its materials and themes, Metallic Life Review often feels lighter and more delicate than some of Matmos’ previous work. Nevertheless, casting their lives in bronze, aluminum, nickel, and steel lends a personal dimension to their music that's especially appealing.

Nextdoorland is a more than worthy addition to their catalog, and proves that two decades apart has not diluted their remarkable chemistry.

Riff, vamp, timbral fractures, lyrical tension, splintered harmonics, and a constant, seductive sense of groove permeate this jazz album, opening up a door onto a brave new future for a free jazz with soul -- Spooky has exceeded all expectations here.

[Corgan's] joyful spirit surges throughout Mary Star of the Sea, even during its many intricate instrumental sections, and it's hard not to get swept up in the momentum, especially since it's married to his best set of songs since Siamese Dream.

While Killing Joke's discography has more than its fair share of awkward and overly ambitious albums, they've once again returned to the fury and focus of their classics.

It's a strong accomplishment, and if you were unlucky enough to have missed this intimate string of shows, it's a document that comes close to bringing the experience into your own home.

Taking disparate elements from their collective record collection, mashing them up, and spitting them out... the members of Silkworm nonetheless end up sounding like few other rock bands of their time while hardly sounding like a cover band revue.

It's a double-sided hook that clears the murkiness from the remaining five tracks, while simultaneously improving the first half (especially tracks like 'California Girls' and 'Please Stop Dancing') when spun for a second or third time.

Since the band cooked up an excellent 12 songs in only a few weeks last year (which they made available as a free download titled the Last Day of Summer), it should come as no surprise that the laboriously constructed follow-up is a masterpiece.

Voids is yet another taut and lavishly detailed, yet never congested, set of productions that hybridize U.K. garage, dubstep, drum'n'bass, house, and techno, with an emphasis on the rhythmic friction of the first two styles.

Strange and exciting as ever, So Much Fun touches on the various elements of Young Thug's unconventional appeal and also turns in some of his best material to date.

The songs are filled with good humor and wry details, the music played with exuberance and casual virtuosity, a combination that amounts to an outright celebration of the many things that makes Texas great.

Consummation is a bold step forward and confirmation that Katie von Schleicher has a great deal to offer and should be creating satisfying music for a long time to come.

Ribot and Ceramic Dog push their vitriol about the state of the world to new heights, crafting an album that balances a sustained punk dread with moments of primal, yawping rage.

The very pleasant surprise is that Nance and his bandmates -- guitarist James Schroeder, bassist Derrick Higgins, and drummer Kevin Donahue, with some extra guests sitting in -- slip into this music with an easy authority, more languid but no less emotionally engaged than his more raucous efforts, and the spare acoustic closer, "In Orlando," leaves no doubt that Nance can do heartache at 3 A.M. every bit as well as he can summon a wall of fuzzy mania.

This album continues the colorful and reaching work of the albums that preceded it, and if this pairing of Swift's deft production and Jurado's risk-taking songwriting continues, even greater things are on the horizon than these already gorgeous songs.

The dread that percolates throughout the album comes from the ominous production and burly subject matter, but Daveed Diggs' quick-witted and masterfully controlled flows amplify the anxiety. Like the masked killer in a scary movie, Diggs seems supernaturally several steps ahead at all times.

The anthemic title cut, an epic, near-wordless, eight-and-a-half-minute midnight highway drive of a closer that, like everything on the outstanding Restarter, repeatedly beats you senseless, but leaves no bruises.

Where Prick of the Litter settled into a mellow vibe, Tall, Dark, And Handsome is bold and restless, finding McClinton trying on all manner of blues for size.

Many songs are led by synth lines, and the curious instrumental track "Land Surveyor" has more in common with the moon-walking electro of early-2000s Mouse on Mars than the organic electronics-tinged rock of the band's last few albums. Final track "Upside Down Bottomless Pit" has a similar blend of enhanced digital dabbling and Kinsella's patented songwriting, offering the kind of cerebral expression of beauty and despair he's dealt in since the group began.

Compared to the astonishing Konoyo, Anoyo does feel a bit like less focused variations on the same ideas, but as it stands, it's still an intriguing, otherworldly blend of ancient instrumentation and technological exploration.

Though it's a smaller-scale work than either A Crow Looked at Me or Now Only, Lost Wisdom pt. 2 is filled with just as much insight and compassion.

No longer urgent yet still passionate, the band conjure a sense of operatic melancholy on The Ultra Vivid Lament that feels reassuring, even consoling.

Even the inclusion of an older tune somehow doesn't feel like they're content to stay cycling through past ideas. If anything it serves as a stark example of just how far they've come since those timid, mawkish early days, and the rest of the songs give a glimpse of how far they might yet go.

Sounding like it was created from the other side of the crushing sadness that defined his earliest work, the album continues Blake's incremental shift to lighter material and songs that lean more into acceptance than torment.

Generally even more affecting are relatively spare entries like the lilting, piano-centric ballad "Sunset Hunting," the eerie "Violetlight" ("Enclosing a disaster"), and the environmental "Mother Tongue" ("I should be angry/But I'm just tired"), although nothing on See You at the Maypole is simple or without determination.

Aesop sounds stronger and sure after taking this journey, making Skelethon his most rewarding effort to date.

Hard to imagine any of his future albums beating this one, but it's entirely possible, and all signs seem to point toward this inventive young producer/songwriter being on the rise.

This may be a flashback to the sound of a decade prior, but after getting so far away from their metal roots, most fans will agree that this balance of creepy ambience and pummeling riffs is a welcome return to form.

This sophomore release named after his hometown's zip code is raw and ready to fight, including taking down all the industry folk who helped hold up this second LP.

Vulnerable, seductive, and expansive, Inji is a promising reintroduction to Eastgate's music that honors his past while moving forward.

A much more concise record than the sprawling, jazzy The Return, As Above similarly celebrates heritage and culture while looking inward and discussing personal issues.

The album isn't a total disaster, though, there are a few songs that manage to overcome the record's flaws and deliver some excitement.

While the album does seem rather patched together with a lack of focus--it plays out like a pair of distinct EPs and a couple transitional orphans on shuffle--there's an irrefutable charm to the restlessness.

If anything, Freeman is a tighter record than McCartney--it's not homemade, it's all complete songs--but there's no denying it shares the same spirit; that it is the sound of breaking dawn of a new day.

Overall, Half Free straddles a neat balance between bittersweet pop hooks and murky, adventurous production.

By the end of the album, as the waltzing piano ballad "Oh! Starving" fades, it's impossible not to be knocked out by what has come before and be super stoked for what might come next.

Like other Uniform records, Shame is bleak and chaotic, but feels unmistakably honest and true to life.

The EP isn't a game changer, but it bears enough of Aphex Twin's unmistakable personality to be worthwhile.

Untangling Speedy Ortiz's hyper-detailed words and sounds is always time well spent, but these fierce, surprising songs are some of their most satisfying work yet.

The Campfire Headphase lacks the transcendent grace that made Music Has the Right to Children and even Geogaddi classics in their field.

Deeply atmospheric even for a Kranky release, As Good as Gone's subtlety is its strength, and shows how Foote, Dickow, Owens, and company bring out the best in each other.

An album where the energy is intrinsic and impossible to miss, but deeper complexities hide in the details that keep changing.

If open to it, the album can be even more enveloping than the debut. The added warmth and a little extra depth go a long way.

Exploding Head is a fine step forward for A Place to Bury Strangers, and shows they're among the best bands bringing shoegaze into the 21st century.

At the end of the day, the best single word for describing Static Tensions is "unpredictable," and although this characteristic may demand a few more listens before the album's many amazing qualities can sink in properly, the ultimate payoff is very much worth the effort.

As a trio, they have to be resourceful to get the kind of full sound Wills got with his ensemble, but they're up to the task.

The four-song EP Punk Authority, Swanson's third release in the technoise vein, is some of his most punishing and relentless material to date.

Expect the expected with plenty of xylophones, campfire guitars, and Dawson's breathy cuteness mixing with Aesop's serious severity, but expect to be thrown as well, mostly by ideas of community and how strangers can leave lifelong impressions.

The songs, as far as the writing goes, are routinely terrific; however, the ones that rely most on convenient synthesized elements are a bit dainty and rudimentary and deserve to be made without the limitations of a home studio.

EarthEE may not have the direct, off-the-cuff quality of AwE NaturalE, but its all-around richness is incontestable.

Love Letter for Fire sounds like Beam and Hoop were born to work together. The yin and yang of their individual perspectives fit together marvelously, and this rests comfortably with the best of both their recorded works.

An accomplished, moving debut, Heba's bittersweet sensuality is distinctive and unforgettable.

With its captivating set of beer-stained rockers and heartfelt ballads, 1372 Overton Park offers a triumphant example of gritty, sweaty, all-American music.

Hs brilliant musicianship and guitar playing combined with his fascinating storytelling skills ensure that his music is as poignant and life-affirming as ever, and the album is yet another success in his remarkable catalog.

Dark Matter/Dark Energy is a potent reminder that Robb and his collaborators are still finding their way into the heart of darkness (which isn't too far from their hometown), and sending back compelling reports of what they've seen and heard.

Through it all, and sometimes in spite of ambitious arrangements, Jones proves himself to have a way with poignancy and yearning melodies that stick.

Tribute to Ndougo Dieng may delineate a new phase for this band in the studio, but the music on offer is satisfying; it's deeper and wider and the elements of joy are untouched by time. And make no mistake, it still slides down the spine toward the belly to create an almost irresistible temptation to dance.

The kind of musically rich and emotionally powerful debut that feels timeless and stands far enough apart from the rest of the music scene surrounding it that it feels like a cleansing blast of fresh air.

The essential generosity of Burgess' spirit helps keep I Love the New Sky buoyant during the rare moment it drifts a bit too far into cheerful trippiness. And those moments are so rare, they're hardly noticed.

In spite of its extra padding and occasional foibles, it's a strong debut and Hozier is far more commanding and convincing than so many other blues-inspired young turks lurking conspicuously in the alleyways of indiedom.

With its mix of catchy and moving songs, an artful structure, and a way with words, Grim Town delivers a piece of Zeitgeist as well as a solid set of tunes.

Here's where a modern master, backed by living and breathing session musicians (including Funk Brother Jack Ashford), masters the masters with startling accuracy.

Ultimately, The Cosmic Birth ... is a further step in Akron/Family's already expansive musical journey; one that will no doubt delight fans and should turn on novices in droves.

As tender as it is uncompromising, Wanderer is exactly the album Marshall needed to make at this point in her career and life. It's some of her most essential music, in both senses of the word.

Songs To Play finds Forster at his most energetic and free. While this set can't be regarded as "unrestrained," these spirited, well-crafted songs offer rock & roll in a manner he's never even hinted at before.

While Emanon's suite may take some getting used to, it is a profoundly imaginative work; the quartet concert offers a killer portrait a group whose M.O. is pushing at the margins until they give way to something altogether new.

Over the course of 13 tracks, Sorry drifts into a wide range of sounds and experiments with subtlety. Their chameleonic approach is never garish, with strong songs being the main takeaway and all the experiments with production and style just the weird icing on the cake.

Stories From a Rock 'n' Roll Heart isn't the triumphant return some might have hoped for, but for its flaws, it shows Williams hasn't lost her spark or her determination to create, and this may not be a great album, but it suggests she has it in her to make another great one somewhere down the line. Here's hoping.

In its best moments, Fuzz will have listeners forgetting Segall is part of the equation at all, the album's brooding heaviness more immediately moving than any of his distinctive sonic ticks.

While perhaps not on par with De La Soul falling from 3 Feet High and Rising to De La Soul Is Dead, this is almost as disappointing a plummet from Day-Glo genius to drab everyday product.

Love and Curses features 14 songs driven by soul, strength and fierce belief, and with a voice as strong as Greg Cartwright fronting a band this tight and effective, Reigning Sound are just about unbeatable; they're one of America's great bands and they're firing on all cylinders with Love and Curses.

For those who made his acquaintance on the Mute albums--Cole's Corner, Lady's Bridge, Truelove's Gutter--or even Standing At The Sky's Edge, this loose-knit set just might be revelatory.

Moody, cinematic, and engaging throughout, Cyclone is another tour de force from Neko Case, if not as immediately arresting as "Fox Confessor."

Howlin is good enough to make you forget most of the bands they were influenced by too, as it both embraces and somehow transcends the '90s in a flash of sound and vision.

At a time when too many people are questioning if rock & roll is alive at all, Ty Segall is doing the work of four or five people in keeping it healthy, and First Taste is ample evidence that he's nowhere close to being done, which is good news indeed.

The Something Rain's grace, elegance, and beauty are enhanced throughout by its subtle but certain spirit of chance.

Yellow House is... required listening not just for fans of Horn of Plenty, but for anyone who enjoys ambitious, creative music with an emotional undercurrent.