It's a lavish, well-considered and executed set that makes for quite the splurge for a Beatles fan with a nice phonograph set.

[The] Last Will and Testament is among Opeth's most adventurous and sophisticated outings. Like a cross between Watershed and In Cauda Venenum, it's heavier and more adventurous than either while bringing the band's past, present, and future under a single creative umbrella.

With Shawn, Mendes has crafted an album of sustained confessional intimacy, one that continually invites you to listen closely.

Nobody Loves You More is some of her finest music yet, and while any of these songs would've been a standout with one of her other projects, it's all the sweeter that they're hers alone.

An even more clearly defined rendering of the group's sound.

Keith Streng's vocals and guitar, Peter Zaremba's vocals and keyboards, Ken Fox's bass, and Bill Milhizer's drumming still lock together like a jigsaw puzzle, with even more enjoyable results.

The studio cuts find bandmates Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith in a similar contemporary mode as on their previous release, melding classic elements of their core sound with modern pop flourishes. .... On-stage they sound rich, dynamic, and detailed with a classy touring band that brings the entire catalog, new and old, to life.

Pursuing their independence has led to some of their most widely appealing songs, and Sniff More Gritty is the musically inventive, emotionally direct, razor-sharp album Du Blonde has always had in them.

On Nite Owls, he manages to pull all of these varied experiences and influences together in a cohesive way that's unmistakably his own.

The Crying Out of Things is a powerful high point in the Body's massive discography.

They’ve never been the most consistent band, making mistakes and careening down the wrong road in pursuit of transcendence – something they have managed to achieve a few magical times -- but they’ve never sounded this irrelevant or out of touch before.

The group's reflective take on grunge- and shoegaze-flavored indie rock is still in play -- such as on the shimmery surfaces of "What You Told Me," the churning distortion of "Something Exciting," and the echoey delay of the bittersweet title track -- but with a more polished net sound resulting from sessions produced by bandleader Soph Nathan, her Big Moon bandmate Fern Ford, and none other than longtime PJ Harvey associate John Parish.

A triumphant live album, Resuscitate! is as much a celebration of the evolution of Callahan's music as it is the shared experience between musicians and audience.

In their own oblique way, Rhetoric & Terror's ambling experiments feel confrontational; when so many artists are unwilling to flout the most basic musical conventions, Hemphill and company are still very much on their own path.

Chromakopia is less of a cohesive statement than Tyler's fans are used to hearing; it's erratic and candid at once, a strange pressure cooker of boasts and doubts that falls out of step with its deftly sequenced and thematically tight predecessors. But these are the sounds at the precipice of change -- perhaps it's fitting that Tyler can't quite package himself as neatly this time around.

Ecce Homo registers as strong, wildly creative, focused, and vulnerable. It may be his solo masterpiece.

Fun, naughty, and a little nasty, 3AM stretches the typical party-friendly novelty sound that Confidence Man perfected on their first two albums, showcasing artistic growth with a laser-focused intent to keep your body moving late into the night, when it feels like anything can (and will) happen.

In the end the album is strangely uplifting and yes, cleansing, as he washes out the sadness, pain, and suffering he's been through and ends up on his feet, bruised but still ready to carry on. By the end of the record, listeners are liable to feel the same way. There are no barriers or guardrails here, it's an unblinking gaze into the abyss, and victory over that bleakness, that can be shared by anyone brave enough to tag along.

Even compared to the brilliance of Elverum's albums in the late 2010s and early 2020s, Night Palace holds a special place in his discography. This document of the peace he found while reassembling his life and his music offers a deeply rewarding experience for fans who have loved his sound at any stage of his career.

With Last Leaf on the Tree, Willie Nelson and Micah have crafted a relaxed album of subtle virtuosity, as if every song could be the last.

Songs of a Lost World isn't just an album of unlikely listenability, though. It's a new chaper late-in-the-game so unexpectedly powerful that it's nothing short of stunning, and just as unexpectedly, it ranks among the band's best work.

Rest assured, there's plenty of rappity rap-rap on Alligator Bites as Doechii lays bare her paradoxical qualities -- declarations of dominance, examinations of self-doubt, both the pressures and exploits of her fame brought to light -- in vivid style.

The delicate acoustic closer "Stick Man Test" makes the entire journey end up feeling more like a soundtrack than a standard album.

It's fine work from a great songwriter who is following his passions while he can, and that makes it special.

This is the album Lone Justice should have been allowed to make in 1983, and in 2024 it remains music full of heart, soul, and passion. It was worth the wait.

With Planet Nowhere, Razorlight have made an album of catchy, no-nonsense anthems that capture the fizzy, garage-rock swagger of their best work.

Mining her musical upbringing and honoring her myriad inspirations, Halsey comes full circle, connecting her own youth and innocence with intimate adult ruminations on parenthood, aging, and legacy. It's an engrossing homage to the figures that made her into the artist -- and inspiration -- that she has become herself.

Cartoon Darkness is a sweaty, visceral thrill, apt for aggressive revelry, driving too fast, and scrapping for the fun of it. It's not a very friendly listen, but that's not the point: confrontational and cathartic, it's existential bloodletting with a warrior's fury and a shredded throat.

The Night the Zombies Came is at its best when the band leans into the drama that has always made them stand out from the crowd. "Chicken" is one such moment, a sidewinding mood piece that swings between pride and desperation as wildly as Santiago's twanging, squalling fretwork. However, the album's brightest gem is "Jane (The Night the Zombies Came)."

While the record's 11 tunes clock in at a mere 33 minutes, it feels complete, fully formed, and full of great tunes and hard-won wisdom.

Addiction and mental health, subjects that are interwoven throughout the potent 22-track set with the rawness and renewal born of having been caught in their grips.

She uses these songs as a statement of intent, pushing beyond the limitations of the interchangeable rap star persona to show her creative depth, and constructing an album environment where she's able to seamlessly transition between dominating the party and opening up about vulnerabilities.

Its lyrics are concerned mainly with current- or post-relationship malaise, whether he regrets ever getting together in the first place (the somewhat cringy "Starfucker"), feels distant ("2001," "Same Old Story"), wonders if he's leaving any impression at all ("What's It Gonna Take to Break Your Heart?"), or ambivalently philosophizes "Maybe love is a way to kill time," which could have been the title for the album.

I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair highlights how Owens can write songs detailing life's harshest miseries and somehow twist them until the main takeaways are hope and gratitude. It's a rare feat, and Owens accomplishes it on many of these songs, making the album not just a collection of some of his strongest work but a humbling reminder to remember to be thankful for what we have while we have it.

Much more than a victory lap, brat and it's completely different but also still brat enriches the Brat listening experience and the understanding of Charli xcx's artistry.

While Key seems worthwhile as an exploration of how songs can grow and change over time, just like people, it's unlikely any of the songs are transformed enough to warrant a fan exodus from the originals. On top of that, the selections' mix of popular and lesser-known make it a lackluster hits collection. What may win over some listeners, however, is its knowing, somewhat ominous tone and its function as a songwriting showcase.

The finished product is so muddled in many of its would-be fleeting spaces as to elicit the phrase: Just because you can doesn't necessarily mean you should.

Although the songs here are solid enough and likely to sate fans, the overall effect is a soundscape that's somewhere in the in-between, suiting the limbo of Evergreen's ruminations but not warranting superlatives within Soccer Mommy's growing catalog.

Distant Call: Collected Demos [2000-2006] is a heartfelt farewell from an act whose inspired -- and inspiring -- music will always leave fans wanting more.

The result is a frantic, jarring, and unpredictable effort which darts from breakbeat-fueled mayhem to noisy droning, all framing Elucid's persistent lyrics about caring for his family, struggling for survival and success inside a racist system, and maintaining hope.

Though Heavy Lifting isn't quite up to the level of Kramer's 1990s work, it comes close enough that it would have reaffirmed his status as a veteran guitar hero and proto-punk sage, full of hard-won wisdom, good tunes, and an admirable reserve of piss and vinegar.

On Limits of Language, they specifically utilized a handful of synthesizers to craft their intricate songs. What's particularly engaging about the band's production here is that, rather than trying to get the keyboards to stand in or mimic other instruments, you can really hear them drawing inspiration from the specific sounds of each synthesizer.

Blood Incantation belong to the class of bands such as Gorguts, Demilich, and Sigh who push extreme metal far beyond its conventions, and Absolute Elsewhere is a towering achievement which exceeds all expectations.

Manning Fireworks is his own fusion of the contemplation of Harvest and the release of Zuma, and it's a small triumph of noisy roots rock.

For fans craving more of Kylie's excellent early-2020s output, Tension II delivers, even when it pales next to more immediate cuts on Disco and the first Tension.

Machines I-V is the Bug in pure club damage mode, and it's as heady and powerful as anything else he's done.

Dance of Love feels like a chapter, not an extension, and that's what makes it such a fresh and enjoyable listen.

Free Energy sounds like the work of a band tapping into the well of creativity at its source and coming up with a work that gently and gracefully slides the group up one notch closer to their heroes.

The guys are aging gracefully, playing to their strengths -- catchy, high-energy anthems that blend pop-punk with good ol' fashioned hardcore -- rather than trying to rehash any of that youthful intensity and rawness of their early albums.

Dreamstate feels like Owens' attempt at reaching the sort of mainstream success that someone like Peggy Gou has achieved, and while it does contain some worthwhile material, overall it just doesn't add up.

The resulting Clouds in the Sky They Will Always Be There for Me finds Porridge Radio still recognizably visceral and volatile but also a little wearier and occasionally resigned, as on the eerie, semi-rambling "In a Dream I'm a Painting" and on penultimate track "Pieces of Heaven."

A bold and bruising nine-song set befitting an architect of grunge and alternative hard rock.

It may not be Wasser's most cohesive album, but Lemons, Limes, and Orchids' discrete vignettes might convey life's multitudes better than any of her prior music. Without question, it reaffirms that for Joan As Police Woman, sincerity and creativity are better together.

Karate exhibit more verve and fun here than on much of their previous output, and continue to push themselves into new forms regardless of how dissimilar to their earlier iterations those forms may be. That ethos on its own is commendable, and the best results of it on Make It Fit are proof that Karate's ever-evolving approach is working.

The invigorated No Obligation is a breath of fresh air, a reminder that punk can be fun and pure without losing its impact or message. The Linda Lindas give us all hope that the kids will be alright.

Keep Me on Your Mind/See You Free is state-of-the-art contemporary pop-folk, and with each LP Bonny Light Horseman deliver stronger work; deciding to put their songwriting chops to work may be the smartest thing they've done to date.

While fans are bound to miss Abbott, Heaton's still got more to say, and his crew is in fine form.

Ultimately, Bleed is the Necks' most formless, abstract, and focused album, one that that points toward a brave new direction.

There's more than enough gas left in Goat's tank to keep them riding in style for years to come.

It may not match See Through You's consistent brilliance, but at its best, Synthesizer delivers the noise for which A Place to Bury Strangers is known and quite a bit more.

The release pauses for a moment of solemn reflection with the extremely vulnerable "LOST MY DOG." "SURFING A TSUNAMI" also deserves mention for its flood of ambient synths which elevate the drama. Otherwise, the release largely sounds like what fans would expect from Future.

Stung! is yet another hard-to-categorize but easy-to-enjoy chapter in Pond's ever-changing story. It's full of melodies made for both sunny summer days and solitary, reflective walks, and often changes gears with little notice.

The album levels up with its final four tracks, which fully commit to the rapid tempo of drum'n'bass.

It's still a privilege to hear another album from SOPHIE, and if this album is only creative and engaging instead of revolutionary, it doesn't diminish her legacy -- it just reinforces how irreplaceable she is.

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.

This collection is at its most intriguing in the brief moments where listeners can hear Reed experimenting with these ideas, ones he'd fully realize a little further down the road with the Velvet Underground. These moments show up fairly unambiguously in the sadistic sneering of the Primitives, but they're also there to be found just a little bit deeper below the surface of songs where Reed was trying his best to emulate simplistic pop music but couldn't keep his inherent darkness from showing.

A kind of survival tool, Quiet in a World Full of Noise is one of the most remarkable albums either artist has made.

With A Modern Day Distraction, Bugg further establishes his reputation as a modern-day British rock troubadour.

Susman and Simms definitely have an assured career in soundtracks, and judging by Memorial Waterslides, they will have a long run as one of the most impressive practitioners of the cinema psych genre.

As technically gifted as she is, Williams also plays with passion, and Acadia is easily her most ambitious release to date.

Bold and fearless, Chappell Roan's The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess is the best kind of pop album: it captures a generational zeitgeist and introduces the world to a refreshing new voice that can hopefully stand the test of time and a fickle industry.

It's an active, engaging album from an artist whose travels ultimately brought her more knowledge of herself.

Top to bottom, this is a coveted no-skips effort, elevated by the fun, liberated approach that helps the listener escape reality and push the limits like the characters in the film.

These six discs certainly illuminate the studio albums they appear on, but their evolutionary processes in studio and on-stage make this set an essential companion to the previous volume.

If there's any bone to pick, it's that some of the slower, more atmospheric numbers don't quite gel as well as the rest of the tracks. Still, the high points make Cutouts every bit as worthy of devoted listening as the first two Smile albums.

The Hard Quartet reject no idea on their debut, and the results are usually familiar, strange, and fun, and at its strongest, the album reframes the individualized sounds of all four powerhouses as something new.

Highway Prayers is too long -- there is a fantastic 40-minute album in there -- but it's also a lot of fun, and it may take a young superstar like Strings to bend and stretch bluegrass enough to deliver it to the masses.

It does feel like a b-sides, here's-what's-left collection at times, for better or worse. However, for fans clamoring for more of anything from Berryman, Buckland, Champion, and Martin, this'll do the trick.

It has a rustic elegance stabilized by workmanlike drums and lively acoustic guitars.

As with all of the band's work, this album is inspiring and life-affirming.

Much like his longtime collaborator Four Tet, Snaith has fully entered his festival dance era, making some of his most outwardly expressive music by injecting his own personality and emotions into superbly crafted club tracks.

Even setting sequencing, production, and stylistic reference points aside, EELS is simply chock-full of great songs.

The album is certain to satisfy Richter's fans from all around the classical-to-pop spectrum.

More or less what fans would expect from a Fred again.. album at this point, Ten Days is a diaristic emotional whirlwind with a handful of highlights.

Dance, No One's Watching is an ambitious step forward from Where I'm Meant to Be, and a musical extension of its creativity. In all, it proves Ezra Collective's prize-winning debut was no fluke.

Throughout, Eisenberg defies the concept of following a single path, instead finding a way to arrange it all so deftly that every disparate sound and conflicting idea becomes a passenger on the same vessel.

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

He's as present and raw beneath the computer voice as he's ever been, but with these darkroom synth tracks, Sparhawk makes his audience work a little harder to locate him.

Moody it is. Having said that, it's singer and songwriter Anouska Sokolow's engaging, spoke-sung recitations that are the focus and defining component of Real Deal, which gets off to a proggy start with "Hide."

Just because it's fun doesn't make it a divertissement, as Ishibashi brings complex feelings to the table alongside some virtuosic genre exercises.

By the time the finer details of closing track "The Diver" sink in (subsonic noise synth frequencies, muted and hypnotic drums, underwater guitar harmonics, and controlled muttering vocals), it's time to play the entire record over again and sit for another cycle in the beautiful, otherworldly loneliness it creates.

143 rings the death knell for Perry for no other reason than it commits pop music’s ultimate sin: it’s boring.

It seems this was collected from material recorded over the space of several years. But Wynn was right to hold on to this stuff, as these ten tracks cohere into a very pleasing album.

The format [just over 20 minutes long] proves again to be well-suited for the singer, providing another highly concentrated shot of material that shows her moving with ease -- sometimes blurring the line -- between sensual slow jams and pop-flavored dance tracks.

Champion's affecting, thoughtful, occasionally hyperactive songs open up new possibilities for the band and celebrate being true to yourself -- no matter what your age.

Caws and Nada Surf hone in so eloquently on the essential, bittersweet ideas at the core of Moon Mirror that their honesty and sweetness can hit unexpectedly hard in the way the best rock albums often do.

Rack is living, breathing, sweaty proof the Jesus Lizard can write songs and give them shape in the studio just as well as they ever did, and it honestly stands beside the best of their Touch & Go catalog in both spirit and execution. And they still hit like a crescent wrench to the face. Which is a compliment.

Throughout their career, Ed Schrader has retained energy and spirit, even as their direction has shifted from noisy, primal blues-punk shouting to dramatic, new romantic-style crooning. Orchestra Hits reflects the sophistication of aging, and relating to the past while continuing to artistically evolve.