This questioning, comforting, quietly stunning album reveals the good things that can come out of pain and grief.

Noel knows how to construct a sturdy song and Holmes knows how to dress them up in flashy clothes, and the combination results in Gallagher's best album since splitting up Oasis.

Wilderness, the tenth long-player from the New Mexico-based husband-and-wife team of Brett and Rennie Sparks (The Handsome Family) lives up to its ecological moniker with a 12-track set that invokes both nature and nurture, with an emphasis on the shady bits in between.

In essence, the album is everything you could want, finding Mazzy Star older and wiser, but still as dreamy as ever.

It's painful that this will be the only Royal We record ever. Many of the band's members moved on to other quite good bands (Sexy Kids, Bricolage, Correcto), but the chemistry they had as the Royal We will be hard to replicate.

Everyone in the band is a seasoned Nashville vet, so while they never sound like they're trying to consciously stretch the limits of bluegrass, they do so just by being themselves.

Box these sounds whichever way you want to, but they are all Shooter Jennings, and as music, The Other Life is all killer, no filler.

Although From Death to Destiny might alienate some fans, the album's more grown-up sound gives them a newfound accessibility that is sure to open them up to a whole new audience hungry for some new heavy jams.

While some bands need that kind of safety net, these guys excel without it, making Dead Language an album that's sure to please fans of the band's live set.

Tales from the Realm of the Queen of Pentacles is a welcome return by an artist who has remained stubbornly true to herself and only records when she has something new to say.

Granular Tales is a pleasant surprise--an album that acknowledges the Woodentops' frantic glory days while offering them a way to move into the 21st century gracefully, and demonstrates how dance music can mature while still getting the party started; this doesn't exactly pick up where the Woodentops left off, but certainly finds them just where they want and need to be.

The majority of the workmanlike Between the Stars, deftly juggles the muscular and the melodic without breaking a sweat in the process.

In sum, Heavy Love is all of a piece: slow, slippery, jungly. It is easily the most confident, fully realized album in his catalog to date, and his most poetic to boot.

Though it's a stretch to call it a happy album (from an artist who routinely pondered the dark side of his life), it's full of charm, wit, and guarded optimism as Rouse tells us a bit about his demons with an honesty that suggests some, if not all, of them are in his rear view mirror. If only therapy was this effective and entertaining for everyone.

The music fits the moods perfectly and the low-key sound makes the songs even stronger. In that regard, it might be the best match of Astor's career. Even if it's not, it still makes for a pretty great album, one of his strongest and one of the strongest singer/songwriter albums one is likely to hear in 2016.

Of Monkees & Men is above all a Scott McCaughey album. Even the most playful songs are deeply personal, leaving no doubt about how much the Monkees meant to him in 1966 as well as 2015.

Each of Holter's studio albums showcases her skill at transporting listeners into the worlds she creates; on In the Same Room, she brings all of these worlds together in performances that are equally intimate and spectacular.

A quick blast of rock action that roars with gleeful release.

It's a knowing, melodramatic Southern fantasia, where the pleasure comes from how every element--from the lyrics through the performances--is exaggerated, turning this into fetchingly surreal Americana.

They've made a classic pop record that deserves play by anyone who recognizes that songs don't need to make the most noise or be the shiniest new thing to have an impact in the emotional life of the listener. Sometimes gentle and calm gets the job done, and that is definitely the case here.

Listen underneath that gloss, and it's possible to hear Davies working out his ideas in a space free from the spotlight. Such seclusion may have meant he wasn't as focused to deliver songs with pop aspirations, the way he was in the '60s, but that's also the appeal of the collection: it's a polished version of a notebook from a strong writer, so it's by nature fascinating for anybody interested in the music of Dave Davies.

The result is a positively buoyant rock & roll album, one that produces good vibrations even at the darkest moments.

As impressive as these textured emotions are, Gypsy succeeds as a record because of Jewell's facility with roots music.

Going by the natural charm of the album and the fun Mahalia seemed to have in making it -- the smile cracked in the chorus of "I Wish I Missed My Ex" is the clearest evidence -- she might only be getting started.

Through it all, Vager and her band cut a jagged line through punk fervor, pop charm, and rock backbone, turning in an album that is equal parts ferocious, funny, and moving.

From its eerie beginning to its twilit end, Shutting Down Here's rotating and lapping elements are remarkably conversant with each other, at times evoking works like 1995's Terminal Pharmacy and at others nodding to his prolific output in the 2010s and 2020s in mysterious and poignant ways.

Reprise is a bold late-career gem that legitimizes Moby's brand of electronic music by extracting the existing emotions that always dwelled beneath the digital soundscapes, revealing a heart that was always there but is now on full glorious display.

It's an especially lucid reading of the sound they've been perfecting for over two decades at this point, and one that adds a human warmth to a group that's long been defined by their otherworldly nature.

It's all in good fun, and there are some definite highlights, but Magazine 1 is more of a nostalgia exercise than a genuinely remarkable album.

Keep your expectations properly adjusted and Spencer Gets It Lit will be an effective soundtrack to all manner of wild good times.

With American Romance, Nelson tunes into feelings of expectancy, newness, and a nervous uncertainty that's endearing.

Livingston is a smart and savvy songwriter who also knows when to let the heart cry out, and he's rarely done so with the soulful impact he registers on Cityfolk.

Tomora comes off as a good-natured side quest, freely venturing into unexpected territory and maintaining an adventurous spirit.

If Sigur Ros never releases another album, as long as Jonsi makes records this thrilling, it'll be OK.

Mannered English eccentricity never sounded so deliriously thrilling.

It feels like Hungtai is still developing his sound to its fullest, but Badlands is still an intriguing and often haunting official debut.

Easily as good as the music that he released when it was recorded, Mutator is an enticing first dive into the Vega vault that will whet fans' appetites for more.

Paper Airplane is very polished -- pristine, even -- but there isn't an extra thing on it. It feels organic and authentic, allowing plenty of room for the emotional power in these songs to come forth.

If she can avoid the "trying to sound American" and "over-bearing lyrical preaching" mistakes of her pioneering U.K. urban predecessors, there's no reason why On a Mission can't be the start of a fruitful and glittering career.

With ceo he's perfecting it and this is his best work yet. Whether you're shopping, working, falling in love, or drifting along aimlessly, it's a perfect soundtrack for a warm daydream full of light and wonder.

Like an actual confession, this album is equally bold and vulnerable, and all the more real and appealing because of that.

With Kids, Erez makes a significant leap forward from Off the Radar. Though she still sounds like an outsider, the skill she displays on these songs suggest she shouldn't be one for long.

Aldred is in top form here, and with Elliot's help he's unearthed a music box filled with undeniable loveliness, but the songs are as fleeting as they are lustrous; museum pieces without placards.

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.

Naeem's debut album, Startisha, is beautiful and reaching.

As it stands, Chopper's ear-candy synths and vivid production simply add new layers of intrigue to Kiwi Jr.'s unshakable foundation of consistently strong (and pervasively catchy) indie rock songwriting.

The first half verges on sluggish -- the call to "Release the pressure -- big, big fun" comes across as unenthusiastic, maybe even sarcastic -- but most of the songs do have an alluring quality. There's considerably more verve and buoyancy to the second half.

The hour-long album is a bit excessive with some nondescript or merely passable second-half pop ballads, but it nonetheless makes good on all the promise of the mixtapes. It's destined to become a 2010s classic.

The fact that the music does feel relaxed, even when it bears his classicist affectations, does make Conor Oberst markedly different than the music of Bright Eyes, and makes it a worthwhile project--even if it proves to be a detour instead of a new beginning.

Newly focused energy, willfully restrained arrangements, and taut compositions give the set a sheer emotional power that no Spiritualized recording has ever displayed before, making it, quite possibly, their finest outing yet.

An uneven and incoherent set of "Kid A Sessions" material that is sometimes strong but sometimes uninspired.

While Source Tags & Codes might be a more cohesive listen and feature slightly stronger songwriting, Secret of Elena's Tomb suggests some promising directions for the band's next album.

A work of beautiful, desolate fragility.

He's skilled and inventive with his work as a musician, but the aches and pains of songs like "Swinging Man" and "God's Lonely People" fall short of what Malin delivered on The Fine Art of Self-Destruction.

Sleek, sensual, and retro-futuristic, the Januaries' self-titled debut fuses smooth, Bacharach-inspired pop, '60s rock, and slinky trip-hop elements into a surprising and distinctive collection of songs.

Poseidon and the Bitter Bug is not only solid all the way through, it feels fresh, clean, new, and chock-full of beauty.

What matters is that this is some of the most economical and effective songwriting of his career, bolstered as always by his appealingly understated delivery and gorgeously crafted musical settings. In short: another astounding, resounding East River Pipe triumph.

Similar in style and cadence to their previous outing, Meet Me at the Edge of the World falls somewhere between the rural, antebellum folk of Gillian Welch, the evocative, sepia-toned eccentricity of Tom Waits, and the soulful ache of Lucinda Williams.

The peppy and ceaselessly upbeat tunes that make up the album rush by in a stream of self-aware lyrics about uncertain romantic relationships, disappointment, and the more bitter side of unrequited love.

Maybe Soldiers of Fortune aren't a band, but they know how to rock, and Early Risers shows they can do that even with tongue in cheek and hipster cred in check, making the achievement all the more impressive.

Sultana could stand to edit herself a bit better, but Flow State is unquestionably the work of a first-rate talent with potential, and if anyone is going to teach young women about the innate coolness of the guitar, she seems like just the person to do it.

On Tin Cast Trust, Los Lobos prove that tough times don't last, but tough music does, and those are words we can all live by.

A subtle but confident change in direction, Have Some Faith in Magic suggests Mogwai better start looking over their shoulders.

Hug of Thunder is buoyant with inclusiveness and cautious hope.

With its fascination quotient running so high, Walker's musical restlessness generously offers a sense of welcome anticipation that listeners can return to almost endlessly.

Ferndorf's appeal is closest to the work of Bertelmann's FatCat labelmate Max Richter: Richter and Hauschka both have a remarkable talent for honing in on the sweet spot where classical, avant-garde, electronic and pop music meet.

This time Nothing are in full command of their sound and technique. By adding back the metal and amping up the melodies, the result is an assured and powerful album that delivers on the promise of the group's debut without copying it. Their growth as a band has been faltering at times, but now that they've arrived, it's good to see and wonderful to hear.

This is the most compelling recording Youngs has cut since 2004's "River Through Howling Sky," though it doesn't resemble it a bit, and is, in its way, considerably more beautiful, unquestionably more accessible, and equally as magical.

Whichever era Foster picks and chooses from, Let It Burn always feels utterly timeless.

Royal Thunder ultimately sound like no one but themselves.

This long-labored album is a thoughtful and contemplative breed of off-kilter pop that becomes both more interesting and increasingly complex with repeat listening.

This is her finest moment yet.

Future Crayon is a must for Broadcast obsessives and a good way for casual fans to explore some of the rougher edges of their music.

Joseph Raglani's brief but quite enjoyable five-song effort isn't some sudden new stroke of artistic genius--instead it aims to hit certain strong points and does so well enough that his future work will be worth investigating.

Capping it off is the giant, bright soul that fuels "Sidewalk Memorial," and while that's a worthy exit for a project so impossibly huge, everything between the bookends is thrown about.

Vast, clamorous, and curiously beautiful, Cheatahs recalls a time and place that isn't necessarily 2014, but does so with such skill and élan you'd be a fool not to meander through time and space with these sounds.

Moh Lhean sounds a little more mature, but only relatively speaking. The project remains a creative burst of sounds, grooves, and stylized observation that's uniquely refreshing to those open to its quirky complexity.

If you are patient, there is more than enough here to hold your attention and take you on journeys through love, lust, tragedy, and longing and bring you home again.

The album is a sharp, thrilling experience, and easily one of Funk's most focused works.

Maybe there's a touch more swagger than solutions on the set, but Minneapolis' secret weapon really should have saved the title of his previous set, Never Better, for this one.

A LA SALA is Khruangbin's most stripped-down effort since their debut, but it isn't threadbare, and fans of the group should find it worthwhile.

A Mudhoney album through and through: no outright surprises sonically, but beneath the roar it's hard not to admire how their perennial piss-takes are subtly deepening and how their saturated superfuzz always sounds so good.

One of her best studio albums.

The album does what all great art does: guides its audience without giving them concrete answers (or even directions), forcing them to think for themselves instead of blindly following others, and eventually leading them, hopefully, to some kind of greater, albeit more complex, understanding of things.

Nothing here is flashy, which is keeping in a long tradition of Hunter's and is yet another reason why he's often called underrated, but when he's making records as rich and resonant as Man Overboard at the age of 70, it's hard not to listen with not a small degree of wonder.

Make no mistake, the beats are coming, as is the dread synth (that sounds like The Terminator reborn), but it's all done in the context of music that is as engaging as it is experimental.

As it stands, the album will at the very least provide a better measure of closure to Saint Vitus' turbulent but heroic career than the aforementioned, despairingly pitiful, mid-'90s demise managed to, and the group's important legacy certainly deserves that much.

While Payback's status as a concept album makes it a rarity in the hip-hop world, even rarer for that realm is an album that's more focused on a continued narrative than creating a breakout single, making the album something that's to be experienced in its entirety.

What comes out of him sounds exactly like pure expression, despite the fact that he can sing his behind off as his violin saws, stings, and flutters with considerable grace and force.

Black Dog Barking is like a safe haven for hard rock purists, offering up a safe place for people to wear jean jackets and pump their fists without irony or judgment.

Now, Then & Forever demonstrates the lasting value of the band's classic sound.

Winter and Benge often seem to be living out their fantasy of being Cabaret Voltaire members as the bloops, the bubbles, and the time-rips are all familiar devices, but so be it, and more please, and another listen for this one as well.

They may be one of many, many neo-psych bands out there in 2015 whipping up retro-flavored noise, but this record proves that they are one of the best and most imaginative.

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

The slowly paced synth waves and soft bass pulsations of "Breath" close out this enjoyable album.

Like contemporaries Daya, Steinfeld, Bebe Rexha, and Dua Lipa, Larsson delivers polished R&B-influenced pop gems that shine bright like diamonds while maintaining a too-cool-for-school factor that helps to distinguish her from the bubblegum.

Clipper Ship feels like a standalone statement, one of powerful simplicity and masterful control. In stripping away almost everything, Toth's songs reveal cores of sometimes blinding beauty and unsettling honesty.

The album may take an unexpected tone, but it's not without its seductions. David Metcalf handles the majority of vocals with a haunting, Nick Cave-like quality that comes with an air of noir-ish suspense, and arrangements that highlight ensemble vocals and animated percussion without encroaching on the realm of stomping banjo folk are, at the time of release, a novelty.