Get Gone is a very special dose of rock and soul, and one of the most purely enjoyable debuts of 2016.

Lines aimed at authority, competition, and bottom feeders all shoot clean through.

This is an album full of vivid imagination, and executed with the skills to make those ideas stick.

Blau places himself completely in his producer's hands. He digs into these lyrics and charts for all he's worth, delivering a gem that is as timeless as its songs.

Everything sounds so precise, crisp, hard-hitting, and indomitable. For that exact reason, Bottomless Pit is an ideal effort for longtime fans and newcomers alike. Needless to say, whatever the type of listener, it won't be forgotten.

It's all spirited and lively. At their best, the wide-eyed folk-soul moments tend to evoke a contemporized version of fellow Englishwoman Linda Lewis.

It's as if this is a needy mixtape, but that minor complaint aside, Free Will finds Freeway's great mix of cold and clever on the upswing, and packaged in a near perfect blend of old and new beats.

Concrete Confessional can be borderline silly in its saltiness, but it's the best kind of comfort food, even if it breaks your jaw.

With three albums under his belt, Vance has settled into a nice groove, and on The Wild Swan, he's pulled off a neat trick. He dons some familiar hats, but never loses himself beneath the brim.

On the whole, Absolute Loser is dominated by an energetic wistfulness and sweet melodicism that characterize most of Johnson's work, whatever his instrument palette. While that should please fans, the solidly crafted song set also offers as good an entry point as any for potential admirers.

They stay true to the genre's penchant for loud/quiet/loud posturing, on-the-nose emotional cues, and strategically placed breakdowns throughout, but they do so while flexing some significant creative muscle.

The results are understated yet extraordinary, an idiosyncratic, romantic vision of 20th century America.

Rock history teaches us you can't will a masterpiece into existence, but with Car Seat Headrest's Teens of Denial, Will Toledo has created something like a novel after previously offering us short stories, and it's a piece of rough-hewn brilliance.

Material is the black celebration that Depeche Mode foresaw, sparkling party music for the downcast masses.

Throughout, the album never loses its quietly hypnotic, reflective character or its soft-footed, ornate chamber-folk palette, transporting us to a distinct and remote destination that's nonetheless intimately relatable.

His idiosyncratic, mumbled vocal delivery might occasionally make understanding the lyrics a bit of a challenge, but it's also one of his unique distinctions and with The Party, he's added another strong outing to his canon.

The album is at its best, though, when Butler is cranking up the big rock and Jackson belts out melodies as straight and clear as an empty motorway. British Road Movies has plenty of that, and if it's not quite enough to make anyone forget the Long Blondes, it's a definite reminder to keep in touch with Kate Jackson.

Almost a decade into their existence, the So So Glos have matured and tightened their execution, making Kamikaze a huge leap past their already 2014 breakthrough, Blowout. Musically, the album is a pure joy.

While some of these cuts work better than others, the range is impressive, as is Grande's measured, assured performance.

It's a good-time record, but one intended to showcase how Mudcrutch hit harder and dig a bit deeper than they initially seemed to do.

After such a long journey, the original lineup have finally made an album together and it's every bit as triumphant and evocative for fans as it is for the quartet who have finally fulfilled a vision they had at the turn of the millennium.

Congrats still sounds unmistakably like Holy Fuck, but their vision of weird electronic pop is much clearer here.

Inspired by a trip to Japan, Good Luck and Do Your Best is one of Gold Panda's warmest, sunniest releases, reflecting the colorful foliage of the island nation.

And yet for all its troubles, the South remains both her home and her muse, and these eerie gothic blues make for one very enchanting debut.

It is the most artfully rendered and sophisticated recording in her catalog, the work of a mature artist in full command of a sonic language. It's also a hell of a lot of fun to listen and dance to.

For the second time, Leon Vynehall has crafted an exquisite album of cheerful, jubilant tracks to get blissfully lost in.

Micky looks at the past not with sad reverence but with a smile, happy that he was there and happy to be able to sing about it still, and that's the vibe of Good Times!: it was a blast to live it then and it's a blast to relive those times too.

Rhythmically a balanced mix of energetic grooves and melancholy explorations, the album is wall-to-wall artful expression that finds a songwriter thriving as part of a four-piece.

For all their self-deprecation and ramshackle bombast, there's no hiding the band's innate musicality, which reveals itself in the myriad of clever changes and occasional bursts of slick vocal harmony, especially on the epic closer "Pine Point." If the dream really is over for PUP, they sound awfully confident.

With this album, Kristin Kontrol makes claim to the top tier, and if she continues to make records this powerfully good, she may find herself alone at the top before too long.

This is heady and hearty stuff delivered by a band surveying the ruins below from their creative peak.

As blissed-out a road record as it is, Eyes on the Lines contains some very thoughtful and well-designed songwriting, with lead single "Conditions Wild" being among its best.

While Cat's Eyes still borrow from a wide range of influences, they do it so well, and with such a sense of wonder, that Treasure House is their most distinctive album yet.

The Lexicon of Love II isn't exactly a return to form, since their 2008 album Traffic is a hidden gem in their catalog, but it does serve as a reminder that Martin Fry and ABC created one of the best albums of the '80s, if not ever, and they still have what it takes to come within shouting distance of those ridiculously lofty heights.

While it could have benefitted from some editing, Skin still shows a lot of growth--it's more mature, and more memorable, than Flume.

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.

While Minor Victories builds on its members' legacies, the band sounds more excited about the present and the future than looking back.

This is a great, high-energy mix that really gives a flavor of a night on the floor at Fabric, and presages a promising career indeed for Fitzpatrick.

The impressive thing about Strange Little Birds is how it feels simultaneously familiar and fresh, a record that echoes the past without being trapped by it.

They sound more engaged and electrified on Future Present Past than they have in years.

Like Heartthrob, this is pop music that is all heart all the time, and for that, the sisters deserve every accolade that comes their way.

A fun, unpredictable album that is sure to confuse some listeners, but it fits right at home with the nonconformist ethos of Ninja Tune.

Elasticity's 78-minute running time can be daunting and exhausting, but A Sagittariun's abundance of creativity and positive energy is admirable, making the album a rewarding experience.

Altogether infectious and loaded with robust basslines, the result of the collaboration is slightly restrained for Garbus and ornate for Smith, finding a savory middle ground that, though not without its more reflective moments and plenty of angst, consistently merits smiles and moving feet.

In fact, My Best Human Face may be Krug's most vital-sounding set of solo songs to It's certainly one of his most balanced, as playful as it is earnest, and as hook-driven as it is meandering.

Simon seems at peace on Stranger to Stranger, acknowledging the twilight yet not running toward it because there's so much to experience in the moment. He's choosing to push forward, not look back, and the results are invigorating.

The sprawl of motion, texture, and color is reined in by immense, emotive lyricism and dynamic group interplay, making this musical "letter" to his vanishing nation well worth repeated listening.

A quirky work that twists and turns all over the place, finally bringing all of their ideas together before sending them off into the far reaches of space.

Including Light Upon the Lake's one jaunty instrumental ("Red Moon"), the 30-minute set of ten tunes will leave many wanting more, an auspicious trait for an otherwise satisfying debut.

f this album is slightly less thrilling than Mourn, it's also more consistent, reflecting the mix of discovery and growth most people experience as they leave their teens. On Ha, Ha, He., Mourn do a little of the former, and a lot of the latter.

On his volume of !K7's DJ-Kicks series, Damon Riddick, aka Dām-Funk, affably replicates the spirit of his weekly Funkmosphere club night.

He was an American original, and American Tunes functions as a lovely coda to a legendary career.

Ultimately, that lean sense of purpose is what drives My Way Home: by being lean, heartfelt, and mean, the record proves that Reed is back where he belongs.

Driving Excitement and the Pleasure of Ownership is a great introduction to a band that deserves to have a close watch kept on its future activities.

Ultimately, while Fitz & the Tantrums' contemporary dance-pop sound is decades away from the aesthetic of their debut, it works, and it's hard to imagine fans not wanting to take make the leap with them.

Midnight is an impressive debut, one that's good enough to kind of make one a little angry that Lissvik didn't get around to it sooner.

The artist makes a convincing argument here that he too belongs in Houston's pantheon.

Ultimately, The Getaway is a nuanced album, rife with journeyman craft and poetry, that proves the Red Hot Chili Peppers still have plenty of their own creative fire.

Wrong Crowd is a far more sprightly affair that not only takes smart stylistic detours, it often treats malaise with a wink instead of a sigh.

Bacteria Cult needs a little time to get into your bloodstream before it can be reckoned with, but ultimately, it's an infection worth sweating through.

The Glowing Man seems sadder, gloomier, and more disturbing than the more hopeful To Be Kind, but the band have always embraced many positive and negative elements in their work, and they all add up to an extremely powerful expression of nearly every human emotion.

Union and Return is as much a continuation as it is a fresh start; as much as Wyatt's old approach might be missed, he doesn't need it to make compelling music.

Inspiring and forward-looking, this album proves that at 25, Katatonia are still restless and refuse to rest on their laurels.

A heavy album that doesn't pander to what's PC, what's on the radio, or what safe, suburban America believes.

This album is not going to give Gojira any big pop radio hits, but it will certainly broaden their appeal outside of the death metal ghetto to more general fans of metal and hard rock.

The band's devotion to unadulterated sonic malevolence remains unchanged. They know that the darkest corners of the human psyche have deep closets, and they would like to show you what's in them.

It first impresses with its savvy, swinging retro vibes, but it resonates thanks to those strong, enduring songs.

With its emphasis on exploring atmosphere over the artful, structured pop of his prior releases, Blood Moon stands alone in Craft's discography to date. Recommended for late-night introspection whether under shelter or, even better, lying out under the stars.

This music is powerfully intelligent without sounding the tiniest bit pretentious, and imaginative without losing a bit of downtown grit. Blood//Sugar//Secs//Traffic is a blazing cool rock & roll assault, and a record that confirms greasy thugs can have a future after all.

Without question, Jambinai are strikingly original, combining disparate elements into a unique, bewildering sound that resembles no one else.

This is a beautiful, expertly paced release that logically fits in with both artists' Editions Mego discographies, both as solo artists and with Fenn O'Berg.

Rather than a dry, scholarly guide to the Thankful Villages, Hayman's warm snapshots represent a fading vision of rural Britain, and it's a tribute he gives with great respect and tenderness.

He doubles down on funk and digitally erased cultural boundaries without losing a specific sense of self or place.

Not quite classical, though certainly not pop, Postcards From is a fascinating meditation from the soul of a traveler.

With this release, Kiwanuka has delivered a dark, graceful, and affecting artistic statement that is worth the patience it takes to experience it.

The way the Kaplans juxtapose '80s fantasy and 2010s reality gives Autodrama's deceptively breezy music a depth and purpose that separates them from the rest of the atmospheric pack, and makes their return all the more welcome.

Like its predecessors, Harvey's canny charts, arresting dynamics, and deliberate, reverb-laden production provide the glue for Delirium Tremens. Gainsbourg's work is now often recorded in English, but Harvey remains one of his finest interpreters.

Martha may be saddled with a name that doesn't exactly imply excitement, but one quick spin through Blisters is enough to dispel any doubts as feet start to move, pulses begin to race, and the part of the brain that compels one to sing along is stimulated in a big way.

Sure, there are a ton of bands pursuing a very similar sound and feel as Dolorean are on Muzik, but their style, the strength of their songs, the sweep of their melodies, and the strong emotional core revealed by their lyrics and vocals push them ahead of the pack.

Turning moments into music is the next best thing, and something that Mount excelled at in the years after Nights Out as he became a more eclectic, emotive artist. Summer 08's exuberance and sophistication are a testament to those skills, as well as to music's power to define and evoke a period in time--and one of Metronomy's most enjoyable albums yet.

Working with Leventhal has brought out the best in Bell, and 2016's This Is Where I Live is his strongest and most powerful work since the late '70s.

Consistently challenging and infectious at once, Black Terry Cat is the kind of album that comes along only once in a while, where bold goes down smooth.

The guys have grown up and the results are as catchy and enjoyable as anything they ever did in their youthful heyday.

Conscious builds upon the promise of their debut and goes well beyond with a tight vision of a glimmering pop future for the Notts.

While Blues and Ballads is by no means Mehldau's most ambitious album, it's nonetheless a work of expansive emotionality and deeply hued beauty.

This album is a wound-up marvel of imaginatively bent punk rock, and if Segall, Shaw, and Moothart have more like this in them, one can hope they'll pass it along.

As far as follow-ups go, the Julie Ruin have hit their mark squarely with this oddly hooky, and totally unique, release.

As ephemeral and powerful as a crush, Nothing's Real marks Shura as the kind of smart pop star the 2010s need.

As pop has become more eclectic, so has Murphy; even if it takes a little more effort to follow her on Monto, the results are worth it.

They blend numerous influences and don't conform to any traditions. More than anything, their music is exuberant and immensely enjoyable.

While sharp musical contrasts may be nothing new for Odonis Odonis, they've never sounded as meaningful as they do here. Post Plague is some of their most urgent -- and satisfying--music to date.

Big Business may be broadcasting from metal's outer limits, but these knotty post-rock anthems dressed up in stoner metal might are as engaging as they are sonically demanding.

What makes Young in All the Wrong Ways resonate is how it touches upon her bluegrass and folk roots while feeling entirely different: the work of a musician who is integrating the whole of her influences into an idiosyncratic voice.

This sprawling, cumbersome, and often psychedelic effort feels like a glorious clearing house for the diverse and deep rapper, offering giant, cinematic, and challenging efforts.

Credit Broyles' mastery with six strings and a reverb pedal or Frobos' snarky, keening vocals. Give Mitchell a hand for pushing the songs forward with just the right balance of muscle and restraint. Most of all, just be glad these guys all quit their musical day jobs and formed Omni, because they made one heck of a good post-punk-pop album together.

There's a lot to take in, but Inter Arma are one of the few bands who could deliver a work of such punishing excess, expansive musicality, and devastating beauty.

Call it based, cloud rap, or crumble core, but whatever the subgenre, Clams Casino's vanguard style now comes in a near-perfect package dubbed 32 Levels.

Luxury Alone is a rare blend of vulnerability and beauty that puts Weird Dreams on a new level.