Major feels like the coolest church service ever, devoid of dogma and ritual, and consecrated by the unholy smack of a thousand high-fives.

Despite the cockiness of its title, his songs remain pleasingly mellow and eclectic, working through a range of styles (highlife, dancehall, Afro-Cuban) and delivering memorable hooks and melodies with the confidence of his status.

As on Sketchy.'s finest tracks, Brenner and Garbus deliver emotionally direct, musically cohesive songs that don't sacrifice any of their time-tested creativity or intellect.

It's heady stuff, but it helps that the songs are catchy as hell, and once acclimated to Sensor's nasally snarl, which falls somewhere between Wreckless Eric, Bob Dylan, Kyle Craft, and Ezra Furman, it becomes easy to see why he's generating such buzz from the very same machine that he rages against.

They continue to show that rare talent here and, ten years into their recording career, that's something they can point to with pride.

Christmas Everywhere won't replace that Mantovani Christmas album your grandfather has been playing for decades at family gatherings, but if you're tired of putting Robert Earl Keen's "Merry Christmas from the Family" on a loop for that party with your friends, Crowell and his pals will fill the bill with style.

She optimizes her limited range, but she and Zaks choose to keep the productions, all pleasant and finely rendered, similarly circumscribed in style and tempo.

Fallon has found a way to distill his band's fiery nostalgia into something a little more refined, but no less affecting.

Halo's voice is never heard--likely a relief for those who found Quarantine too unsettling--but this is about as jolly as the cover illustration, drawn by her father.

On Winter of Mixed Drinks, they focus and polish Organ Fight’s epics--and add a healthy dose of optimism.

Come to Life is aptly titled when it comes to Aviv's talents, and even if he didn't invent cloud rap, using the genre for such positive and poignant music is previously unexplored territory.

While similar in feel to her debut, Magic Mirror is a significant step forward for Charles, who really steps up her game here.

Like Squirrel Flower's debut, Planet (i) is a journey through an ever changing landscape and marks a noticeable creative step forward for Williams.

The Rat Road is the type of sprawling, inconsistent work that likely only its creator fully understands, but it contains several fascinating, inspired moments.

The musical portion of her songs... takes a distant second place to her lyrics. Which is fine, because her words are so engaging, but it wouldn't hurt her to experiment a little more with chord progressions or keys.

The band's fullest and most developed record to date.

Foster is wearing her open heart on her sleeve but she's never pushing too hard, never overselling her message; she's charming with her warmth and sly skill.

The Nude Party does everything right in capturing a certain irreverent spirit here, including emphatic vocals and catchy songs about not only war, but astral planes, record shops, and ignoring advice to get a real job.

She and her fellow writers and producers have put together the type of album that drowns out the world and keeps giving with each play.

Despite its anxious closing words, "I will never learn," fans of the band's prior releases are almost guaranteed to embrace Strange Disciple, and it's an excellent entry point for the uninitiated.

Remarkably, these songs not only retain their emotional core even after they've been cleaned up, but they perhaps even gain more resonance in this setting.

The Instinct is both adventurous and accomplished and ambitious enough to suggest that this band is going to continue to push the limits one album after another.

The album seems to reflect craft rather than passion, and while it's often splendid craft, the fire that made Whiskeytown's best work so special isn't evident much of the time.

But even though the group perfectly defines the way that so many British art-school bands have sounded since the late '70s, in Electrelane's hands it still seems fresh.

The harshest and most consistent album of their career.

This all flows well and is quite a good piece of mood music, yet there's no hiding that for all their political stances and past reputation, Cornershop doesn't really have all that much to say this time around, nor have they delivered more than a handful of songs to have all this stick.

Grand and flirting at the same time with the ridiculous -- the kind of disc to listen to when you are in love.

To sum it all up succinctly, there is no shortage of psychedelic jams to be found throughout Quest for Fire's Lights from Paradise.

This scattershot feel makes Tween something mainly for die-hard Wye Oak fans who want a peek behind the curtain, or for anyone curious about how they managed to make the daring stylistic leap from Civilian to Shriek.

Throughout the album, the duo maintain a balance between daring production tricks and direct feelings, producing futuristic experimental pop that builds on the two producers' combined histories while pushing things further.

Even without the conceptual framework, Harlecore is a briskly entertaining look back -- and forward -- at some of EDM's fizziest, gaudiest sounds.

If 40 oz. to Fresno isn't the most ambitious entry in Joyce Manor's discography, it is at least one of their most enjoyable.

Only time will tell, but at this point Courting are delivering some smart, bracing fun that will keep you guessing in plenty of good ways.

The follow-up, Portrait of a Dog, leans more heavily into jazz influences, including instrumental explorations and improvisation, while still processing the familial and adding a breakup to the mix.

Far from a rehash of Cuz I Love You, Special finds Lizzo revealing new layers to the genuine songwriting and generous spirit that has defined her music since the beginning.

Sadness lurks upon the edges of the record, as does rage, but Little Rope ultimately feels cathartic: by processing Brownstein's loss and dwelling upon their shared bonds, Sleater-Kinney once again feels united and purposeful.

Peaceful and undeniably pretty, this is an album that should please many Sparklehorse fans, even if it doesn't challenge them the way Good Morning Spider and It's a Wonderful Life's best moments did.

At a lean ten tracks, Surviving quickly makes its point, pushing through years of pain and emotional turmoil by setting sights on a stronger, more confident future.

Pretty Little Head sounds like a record from a woman coming out of girlhood -- more confident, more wise about love, and more focused about her concerns, if no less passionate.

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea reveals more poetic, as well as playful, layers with each listen--and above all, underscores what an inviting songwriter Berman is, whether he's taking a darker or lighter approach.

Seemingly undaunted, Seth Olinsky, Miles Seaton, and Dana Janssen recruited engineer and co-producer Chris Koltay, and enlisted nine other musicians to create the most far-reaching, margin-breaking set of the band's career to date.

The lead single is a powerhouse of dance waves and infectiously produced beats, but the album doesn't always stand out as definitive, even though it's consistently fresh and innovative.

Released just a week after his self-titled fifth effort, Future's HNDRXX provided an introspective and confessional complement to the more extroverted Future.

Nostalgic throughout, yet often more affectionate than bittersweet, Gold Past Life represents another consistently strong set from Johnson, one with melodies and sentiments that linger.

Minor issues aside, Made of Rain is a fine and sometimes inspired comeback. It may not be Talk Talk Talk, Pt. 2 or Forever Now again, but it proves the Furs still have plenty of life left in them, and it's always nice to hear Richard Butler's voice no matter what the setting.

Leaders of the Free World is a bit more rock & roll than not, with guts and heart, because Elbow have finally embraced their powerful, surrounding space this time out.

Ahe stumbles when she gets lighter, particularly on "Family Is Family," where it seems like she can't wait to be rid of those leeches--but it's hardly enough to prevent the album from being a rich, enchanting collection of stories, confessions, and the occasional joke.

He's still writing finely observed vignettes that manage to intersect life as we live it with life as we wish we could live it, and as such, he has more in common with a short story writer than he does with the typical singer/songwriter.

Never before has the singer infused more mainstream rock elements (prominent strummed guitars) into her music.

Kids in the Street doesn't sound or feel like a masterpiece, but it does suggest Earle was aiming higher than expected for this album, and he hit the target--this is among his very best work to date.

A surprisingly strong and assured record.

The first listen or two to World Painted Blood might be a bit confusing for the seasoned Slayer fan, but that changes quickly, and the sound of those drums blasting in one's head will become a more than welcome presence in the mix.

This is a record designed to be listened to in isolation, preferably through a massive pair of high-quality headphones rather than in the mass communal surroundings of a club.

The album is like a gentle, sometimes terrifying solitary journey, a walk through foggy terrain with no absolute destination in mind, but one that takes the listener to places of new questions and different possibilities every time.

The record has a sizeable amount of drama or gravitas as well.

Habits & Contradictions, the album, lives up to its title, which could throw some, but the complicated rapper always seems to convert more than he scares away, and you can blame his keen, exciting, risk-taking, vintage-styled, and deep set of skills for that.

It's tender, gentle, and expresses what absence teaches in the music and poetic language of Gothic Americana -- without nostalgia or artifice.

While the mix is strong throughout, its beginning and end are particularly captivating.

His penchant for on-the-nose phrasing and big pop moments would be grating if those instincts weren't so sharply honed and the sugary results so immaculately delivered.

Portrait of My Heart is Spellling's most accessible work, but it's still unconventional and unpredictable, reflecting her uniquely magical vision.

Simply put, the wonderfully accessible, soulful and bracing Tuff Times Never Last is the summer soundtrack of 2025.

While it may not be as striking an artistic statement as its predecessors, the general tone of easygoing bonhomie makes Transnormal Skiperoo a decidedly satisfying release, and the simple fact that it's an album's worth of fine new White material is in itself cause for plenty of contentment.

A Sufi and a Killer is nearly impossible to place or categorize, and this ageless quality is only embellished by Gonjasufi's vocal work, which at times sounds like a mystic channeling spirits from another dimension. Truly visionary.

Here it results in some of their best and most confident work to date.

Free from any sort of major-label constraints, the band sounds both invigorated and restless, and while deciphering their skewed Danish pop sensibilities can often prove challenging, it's well worth the effort, as the results can just as often be breathtaking.

Detailed production and collective growth as performers meet with a songwriting style that grows more distinctive with each new release, making Flower of Devotion a further step up. Some of the heartbreak and healing that defined the last album carries over, but more than anything Dehd grows deeper into their sad, summery twilight sound.

Summery beats and glitched-out soul samples make tracks like "Ugly" and "Hollywood Gangsta," and the huge fun of "Wave Gods" finds A$AP Rocky dropping in for a guest verse while DJ Premier scratches in some familiar hooks from the archives of golden-era rap.

A tight 17-track, 38-minute album that should be welcomed by all fans but especially by millennials (and elder zoomers) aging alongside the beloved songwriter.

While relentlessly hooky and cathartic in addition to noisy, the album is submerged in a lo-fi murk deemed imperative by the songs themselves. In other words, after hearing it, it’s hard to imagine or want this album any other way -- and that’s a sign of something special.

Foals have always been deft wielders of unease, and the shambolic Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost feels certain in its uncertainty. Whether or not all of these stylistic shifts find some common ground with the release of volume two remains to be seen, but there's no denying the vitality that runs through this ten-song set, nor the inescapable feeling of doom.

Employment is an uneven but still very promising debut that suggests that one day the Kaiser Chiefs will pull off something even more ambitious.

It's hard not to draw parallels to the Decemberists--fellow Portland residents whose frontman, Colin Meloy, shares a strikingly similar voice with frontman Ryan Sollee--but Dead Reckoning is further proof that the Builders and Butchers are building their own identity.

The Bones do let loose on songs like the disco jam "Got It Bad" and "LivWithOutU," a grooving, straightforward love song. Taken as a whole, though, Young Sick Camellia feels almost like a concept album, one framed by and rooted in a confrontational contemporary reality.

Easily his most introspective project.

This Is the Sonics is an outstanding return to duty for one of the great primal rock & roll bands of the '60s, and if they don't sound like kids, the flame that fueled their best discs is still burning bright, and they're louder, crazier, and wilder than most bands a third their age.

Anthology won't offer any surprises to Carpenter devotees, but the music is undeniably authentic and faithful to his vision, and it sounds fantastic in any case. For anyone who isn't already familiar with Carpenter's films or music, this is a handy way to become acquainted.

Hushed yet haunting, Phantom Brickworks offers a beautiful new perspective on Bibio's music.

71 years old at the time Ordinary Man was released, Osbourne's voice in in great shape, sounding more or less like he always has. How he's making music this strong after riding the crazy train for more than half-a-century is anyone's guess, but the better songs here rank among his best.

Modest Mouse's finest work since Good News for People Who Love Bad News.

The quiet nature of Chaos and Creation may mean that some listeners will pass it over quickly, since it's a grower, but spend some time with the record and becomes clear that McCartney is far from spent as either a songwriter or record-maker.

Add it up and it's an impressive display of indie rock knowledge and ability, enough to make anyone thinking they should give the band a pass (despite their unfortunate moniker) some deep second thoughts.

As artlessly lovely as a spring day, this is some of her simplest work, and simply some of her best, too.

While it would be unfair to call Dark Sky Island a throwback, it does manage to harness some of the power and creativity of Enya's early days and pairs it with both the confidence and shadows of age.

Verses certainly seems like a project that was labored over for such a long time, and it ends up being entirely worth it. It sounds seamless and organic, and avoids the novelty aspect of Jeff Mills' Blue Potential.

Every bit as excellent as their previous two full-lengths, Venus in Leo is HTRK's most sensuous material yet, and the type of album that provokes repeated, enraptured listens.

Punk is relatively odd for an album that debuted at number one on the charts, sneaking some of Young Thug's inherent eccentricity in among its more commercially viable moments.

Every element is in the right place but Watt is smart enough to leave some elements undone, giving the album a human heart that's evident no matter how deliberate the entire affair may be.

Throughout the album, Allison's vulnerable delivery and quietly tormented lyrics stick as much as hooks, artfully gradated guitar tones, and haunting echo that's mostly reserved for accompaniment, but they all work together in unsettled harmony.

Call the Comet is more accomplished than compelling, but there is pleasure in hearing how all the parts fit together so tidily.

A tight, mean set of songs.

The Oranges Band doesn't rewrite the indie rock handbook; more like they follow it in note-perfect style and form and in such a familiar way (Spoon, New Pornographers, Guided by Voices, Yo La Tengo, new wave influence, etc.) that your initial inclination might be to dismiss them as generic wannabes. Stick around though and you just might be won over.

Like the best divorce albums, it offers sadness, pathos, and the electric thrill of great music forged in the crucible of pain.

While the album's roots are deeply embedded in the past, the band has never sounded more present tense.

Wasted Shirt is a collaborative project in the best sense, as the strengths of both Segall and Chippendale are at the forefront on Fungus II, and if this album is less accessible than most of Segall's recent releases, it has excitement and daring to spare.

Whether it's a genuine transformation or just a brief exercise for the pop chameleon, the triumphant Holy Fvck is a refreshing change of pace and an utter thrill to experience for those willing to look past the headlines into the heart of an artist who continues to grow in the public eye.

Whatever the reason, it's a great-sounding record.

Metallica is still vitally violent and on this terrific album--a de facto comeback, even if they never have really went away--they're finally acting like they enjoy being a great rock band.

Genuine Negro Jig is perfectly recorded, balanced between the best sound this century can deliver and the rustic, throwback feel of an old-time string band in action at a picnic, dance or rent party in the '30s. That’s the accomplishment here.