Full of heart, courage, and passion, Widdershins finds Grant-Lee Phillips going from strength to strength after The Narrows, and it ranks with his best solo efforts.

The band purportedly balance their compositional process between writing songs on their instruments and utilizing electronic production programs that they then translate to live instrumentation. As a result, these songs have the wave-like flow of electronic dance tracks but with the expansive, acoustic atmosphere of classic ECM recordings.

Acutely personal--almost to the point of discomfort--and exceedingly fragile, Seedlings All somehow manages to remain resilient, which is a tough balance to pull off.

Estelle's creative energy is manifest here, so much so that the constant rotation of featured guests becomes a distraction.

Unlike similarly conceived recordings, this doesn't act as a pleasant backdrop for engaging in other activities; instead, it quietly refuses revelation without active participation from the listener.

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.

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.

Nowhere is Batoh's most provocative yet accessible solo album; its otherworldly strangeness is uncompromising, but somehow welcoming because of its deep focus. Its many textured ripples, fissures and psychic pathways resonate long after its playing timer expires.

Post Earth is a step up all around for Feels, and refreshingly demonstrates they don't need a garage-pop prodigy on board to make an album worth hearing.

For an album that hinges on frantic idea swapping, Birthday manages to consistently surprise, making it something of a celebration of kooky guitar-driven pop, all the while maintaining momentum and a sense of unbridled joy.

There's not a weak song or wasted moment to be found; the trio write with a lovely economy of emotion and have sharpened their hook-making skills to a very fine point.

Undress sounds and feels like the Felice Brothers, capturing their loosely tight charm in a manner that honors both sides of the equation, and is certainly an above-average release in their canon.

Pike's solo material is loose, scattered, and unpredictable, and while it isn't quite as focused or engrossing as his work as part of groups like Szun Waves or Triosk, the unmistakable sense of mystery makes it worth checking out.

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.

Stieglitz's and Morgan's work both speak to the desire to preserve the power of a moment, and to make something fleeting eternal, whether with a photograph or a piece of ambient music. There's something noble about that, and on Equivalents, Morgan captures it eloquently.

The whole album revolves around the idea of rock & roll as a freeing source of energy, a non-stop party that can uplift those who embrace it. The McDonald brothers are living proof of that idea and Beyond the Door is another example of how pure their love for the form is and how powerfully they channel the true unadulterated ideals of the music.

Weird, warped and somehow playful while presenting songs about earthlings grappling with a dying planet, Zdenka 2080 constructs a universe of its own. It’s a wonderfully strange galaxy to get lost in.

Subdued and graceful, Clarke never succumbs to sad-sack tropes on In All Weather. The songs are introspective and pained with no hints of self-pity, leaving plenty of space to drift away on any of their many airy melodies.

Michaela Anne's apparent disinterest in the slick, hollow approach of most contemporary country would have identified Desert Dove as something different regardless of the production, but Outlaw and Winrich helped make this into a striking, satisfying collection of songs that confirms Anne's status as one of country's freshest and most interesting new talents.

For a band that is beloved on home soil but often gets lost in the crop of late-2000s U.K. exports, this catalog highlight is ample evidence of artistic greatness and proves that, even after the darkest of days, beauty and light are on the horizon.

Thanks to the life the duo breathed into the album with their dedication and passion, Swimmer should keep fans on their toes for sure.

While Surrender Your Poppy Field is less immediately approachable than the other albums from this period in the Guided by Voices saga, it's experimental, not meandering, and for fans with a taste for their more esoteric side, this will hit the spot and then some.

Despite a few poignant moments, Manchester Calling is dominated by lively, playful songs, and though the track list might have been improved by cutting a handful of the more similar ones, the couple can't be justly accused of allowing any filler.

There isn't anything startlingly new or different about Kings of the Medway Delta that will surprise fans, but in the great tradition of John Lee Hooker, Billy Childish is someone who can keep on doing the same thing while investing it with enough power, intensity, and honesty that it never loses its ability to drawn the listener in. If you've ever wished that your old Little Walter records didn't sound so slick, Kings of the Medway Delta should be just the thing for you.

What's New, Tomboy? is another moving collection of American snapshots from the troubadour, if likely less memorable than his higher-contrast outings.

It's an eclectic set, for sure, but loyal to a nostalgic musicality that doesn't take itself too seriously; there's a bit of a wink and smile to Italian Ice that adds an extra layer of charm.

No Pressure finds Logic all grown up and ready to give himself over to a new chapter. It's one of his best and most enjoyable albums, wrapping up an electrified run with his most clearheaded and honest material yet.

The collaborators' willingness to take their songs unexpected places and shift gears multiple times within a single track is one of their most interesting attributes. The Helm of Sorrow continues to push the boundaries of their genre experimentation, and lands in even heavier territory.

Mercurial but persistently larger than life, even in quieter moments, the sophomore set doesn't yield quite as many memorable hooks as Midnight Sister's debut but still holds fascination.

It's a powerful, evocative work that speaks to the time that created it as well as the continued creative growth of a unique and gifted group of artists.

It's a buoyant sound that brings to mind a vibrant mix of artists like Deee-Lite, Greyboy Allstars, and Stereolab. Vocally, Murphy has a stylishly flat resonance that evokes iconic singers like Astrud Gilberto and Nico. It's a perfect fit for the duo's vintage-inspired recordings that wouldn't sound out of place pumping from a car stereo at the beach in 1970s Rio de Janeiro.

Altogether, The Bitter Truth carries listeners on a journey both familiar and fresh, recapturing the heavy-yet-melodic hallmarks that made Fallen one of the most successful albums of the 2000s and pushing Evanescence into the future with a graceful maturity and worldly perspective.

A few of the first names that come to mind with this sort of thing aren't here. Whether due to familiarity, licensing restrictions, budgeting, or taste, the exclusions are of no consequence given the depth and range of what's on offer.

It lets some of their influences expand on their ideas, sometimes taking them much further than they could've expected.

Barlow is still in touch with what was best about his old work while maturing in the ways that truly matter.

Forest of Your Problems is unlikely to win over anyone not already sold on their particularly odd formula, but there is something admirable about the continuation of their off-kilter approach, making this record a victory lap for their existing fan base and a promise that the rhythms won't stop anytime soon.

Solid Gold U-Roy is a fittingly triumphant final act from an artist who dedicated his life to the advancement of art. It's at once traditional and futuristic, returning to some of U-Roy's past victories and somehow rendering them even brighter and more invigorating.

Side-Eye NYC (V1.IV) offers an astonishing portrait of the many places Metheny has been, and intimates where he may yet go. It's an album that virtually all of his fans can celebrate. It may also lead to another generation discovering him.

The Sound of Yourself is another heart-breaking, spirit-lifting highlight in McCaughan's long and captivating career and shouldn't be missed by long-time fans or new converts.

Both acts channel traditional folk music's power to express extreme desire, sorrow, and emptiness, occasionally driving the bitterness home by pushing the decibels into the red.

Thanks to their renewed focus, their willingness to embrace new ideas, Cleveland's songs, and the symbiotic relationship between the group and Younge, this feels like a fresh start for the band and some of the best psychedelic rock around in the early 2020s.

Like nearly all of Calix's music, absent origin is complex and challenging, but it reflects an unmistakably unique perspective on the world.

Observatory is a satisfying listen and deserves to be heard on its own merits. On whether or not it will appease longtime Wrens fans as a vestige of a long-promised return, the jury remains out.

Guests including Big Thief's Buck Meek, Mauno's Eliza Niemi, and pedal steel guitarist Aaron Goldstein also contributed to the album's gentle, textured palette. It opens with a sparse, Renaissance-style folk tune, the dulcimer-accompanied "Take On Me," which introduces Le Ren's lithe and lucid vocal delivery alongside evocative lyrics.

The Sun Is Shining Down sounds hungry and vital. Mayall delivers these rough-and-ready blues like a champ.

Shenfeld's debut blurs lines between post-minimalism, drone, noise, progressive electronic, and ambient. Its nonconformity is a major part of why it's so captivating and refreshing, but even beyond that, it's simply a joyous listening experience.

It might scare off some of the fans drawn to the pop side of Toro, but for those who appreciate the subtle twists and turns of his early work -- and especially those who wish he had expanded on What For? -- this is Bear and band at their most exciting, most inventive. and most fun.

Only completists will need to collect every volume of the series. Despite their similarities, each volume is an excellent document of any given night on-stage with Neil Young, and Royce Hall 1971 finds him in just as fine form as the best of his solo performances from this time.

More D4ta is Moderat's most introverted album, artfully expressing the tension of lockdown and facing an uncertain future.

Promise of the Real give Noise & Flowers the muscle the music needs, which means the album never sounds nostalgic or stiff: it's a warm celebration of the music made while Elliot Roberts stood by Neil Young's side.

It's a tense and impatient record, even by Megadeth's standards, and re-affirms the band's status as completely essential metal deities who are still operating on a level of excellence most of their peers fell from decades ago.

While lyrically bleak, Gulp! delivers its pessimism with fist-pumping enthusiasm for the most part, at least until the meditative, Kinks-evoking closer "Light Industry" emphasizes life's repetition on the album's one true outlier, like a final wink and a nod.

Grander in scope than Gibbs' rightly praised single-producer efforts, $oul $old $eparately is nearly as consistent, as the project is driven by his unyielding focus.

Incredible songs like "Dusted" and "Kisses to the Crying Cooks" from the Fast Japanese Spin Cycle EP don't make the final cut. Despite these omissions, the compilation does a good job of weeding out the filler, and exists as an annex of even more fleetingly amazing songwriting from GbV's defining era.

A maverick saxophonist and sonic experimentalist, Sam Gendel applies his distinctive approach to contemporary R&B hits on his inventive 2023 covers album, COOKUP.

Plastic Eternity shows Mudhoney are capable of surprising us (and themselves) thirty-five years in, and judging from the results, it won't be the last time they'll pull that off.

Where her peers have scaled down their ambitions, she's reaching for grand ideas and emotions on Keep Your Courage, turning her personal journey into something universal.

These final four compositions on The Forest in Me invite listeners to eavesdrop on a creative process, in the process of emerging, from musicians undaunted by physical separation. They always find a compelling way of establishing a collective voice.

There's joy in every moment.

A record that's as catchy as it is emotionally overpowering.

JID018 is an absolutely simmering set, with one of Afrobeat's creators showing us how it's done once again.

Ashnikko is part rage rapper, part feminist pop star, part disaffected rocker with emo-goth tendencies, but still somehow categorically none of the above, donning a new mask for each new expression.

Choosing to transpose strings to guitar and voice helps Hatfield achieve a sense of intimacy while retaining a sense of romantic grandeur, a combination that gives Juliana Hatfield Sings ELO a distinctly warm and comforting feeling without succumbing to the pitfalls of nostalgia.

Anches en Maat isn't one of Grails' more intense records, but it does a fine job of capturing the certain type of melancholy cinematic vibe that they've been exploring for much of their career.

El Perro del Mar stares into chasms of being and nonbeing on Big Anonymous, calmly dictating back the horrors and revelations she sees in a steady voice.

The debut full-length album from Brisbane, Australia's Girl and Girl, 2024's Call a Doctor, crackles with a youthful enthusiasm that finds the quartet ably balancing a mix of late-'70s and early-'80s post-punk and jangle pop influences.

Also involving contributions from PJ, Jennifer Hudson, J Rocc, and Tuamie, the album is an inspired extension of hip-hop's 50th anniversary celebrations.

The result is near prefect psychedelic pop that puts the half baked efforts of most of their contemporaries to shame.

"Piece of My Heart," features guest vocals from Brent Faiyaz and an interesting mid-song shift to a lusher sonic palette. The production, while similar to his earlier releases, leans ever more insistently into R&B with subtler Afrobeats touches.

After over four decades, the Melvins still sound utterly uncompromised and full of swampy vigor, and Thunderball confirms they haven't finished challenging themselves or their audience, not by a long shot.

If you've been wanting to hear a band make a bunch of fractured noise and love every moment of it, UNIVERSITY is here for you and McCartney, It'll Be OK is their gift to the noise lovers of the world.

Night Moves still know how to spark your emotions, and cuts like the opening "Trying to Steal a Smile" and "Almost Perfect," as with all Double Life, have a bittersweet romanticism about them that pairs nicely with the band's clubby, strut-ready attitude.

The Collapse of Everything is a powerful, sometimes harrowing work that lives up to Sherwood's lofty standards.

If Departures and Arrivals: Adventures of Captain Curt has flaws, they don't change the fact it's an audacious bit of record-making that succeeds far more often than it fails, and once again confirms Harding is a major artist whose talents deserve a far wider audience.

So far, Liminal is the strangest of the Wolfe/Eno collaborative efforts, playing around with sonics and textures while still retaining an air of familiarity.

It's like the two musicians are navigating their way through the wilderness without knowing where they're headed, yet once they finally get there, they backtrack and trace a logical path so that it seems like they knew what they were doing the entire time.

Bitches Blues is the sound of a band experimenting with and developing a language distinctly their own; it is at once physical, fluid, wildly creative, and deftly spacious, revealing a striking 21st century approach to the guitar/keyboard/drum trio.

It makes for an album that's hard to love right away, but if you stick with it, is a rewarding listen.

From the opening moments of the trippy, lo-fi intro "From the Sun" all the way to the funky-as-a-Hendrix-ballad closer "Secret Xtians," II takes risks and achieves greatness.

The negativity removes the focus from Busdriver's sizable musical talents and rests it squarely on his lyricism and themes (not a good idea).

By focusing on bringing light and shade into the margins, the Hold Steady wound up with an album that feels vivid and alive; it's as if the songs themselves have a life outside of the recording.

Deep in the Iris honors emotional states that aren't easy to express--musically or otherwise--and brings a clarity to them that make it some of the band's most empathetic music.

Shrink Dust has some truly inspired moments and fits right in with VanGaalen's building mythology.

While the record may fall slightly short of Bashed Out's high benchmark and its plethora of exceptional melodies, Moonshine Freeze remains a fine addition to This Is the Kit's already excellent back catalog.

This is the kind of album you can live with and hear new things in with each listen, and proves that the album is an art form that still has plenty of life in it.

Ultimately, Live from KCRW feels like an addendum to the larger work of Push the Sky Away, but the musical and emotional force of this music is more than strong enough to merit its release; this is a striking reminder of the excellence of Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds as a live act, and Cave's maturation into one of the most extraordinary songwriters of his day.

Death Peak reaffirms that Clark's music isn't constrained by clearly defined concepts; if anything, he's liberated by them, and this is some of his finest, widest-ranging music yet.

Like the best Depeche Mode, almost everything on the album will make an initial wowing impact while remaining layered enough in subtle details to surprise and thrill with repeated listens.

Between the perfect production and the genius batch of songs, [it] makes a case for the Pernice Brothers as the best pop band on the planet.

They are so good, so natural on Lullabies to Paralyze that it's easy to forget that they just lost Oliveri, but that just makes Homme's triumph here all the more remarkable.

She makes listeners wait for her still-formidable skills with hooks and melodies, displaying them most stunningly on "Bad Girls," a sinewy, menacing track whose origins date back to 2007 sessions with Danja.

What makes the album rather extraordinary is that it's as much celebration as it is protest.

Stranger Me is not only a logical title but a demanding and surprisingly successful experiment that challenges both LaVere and the listener, pushing her into edgy, clearly non-commercial areas.

Here, he makes his own form of dream pop, one that is inspired by stark realities yet filled with hope for a brighter future.

Condon spends much of Rip Tide writing in first person, and it lends an air of much needed intimacy to the always gorgeous, yet historically elusive Beirut sound.

Ticket to Fame's balancing act between jumbled weirdness, edgy pop, and occasional respites of synthy atmospheres is a fantastic introduction to Decisive Pink's insular and contorted but often magical take on pop.

The way Buke and Gase pull together no wave's sense of texture with dance-punk's ear for rhythm is impressive enough, but the cohesion and approachability of General Dome are really what make the album.

If the duo's satire sometimes seems cheap--the Tinder jibes on "Easily Charmed by Fools" are a little too easy--they make up for it through sheer good humor, which is why the playfulness of South of Reality charms instead of alienates.