Oberst's storytelling songwriting remains despairing and maudlin, but he seems more self-aware of this than ever before, injecting some triumph and levity into these songs that suggest he's not just smiling through the pain, but laughing at how ridiculous life can be, and maybe even secretly a little bit grateful for being able to experience it all.

In Waves sounds like the music Jamie xx needed to make at this point in his career -- its love letter to the communal healing power of dance music is often more purposeful, and more satisfying, than his instant-classic debut.

Odyssey isn't a next step for the artist, but a giant leap into unbridled inspiration, focus, and creativity. Like Source before it, this arrives at a captivating juncture in Great Britain's wildly diverse jazz scene, and will no doubt influence it.

The overall effect of the album's variability is less vibey but more emotionally resonant than the debut -- perhaps an even tradeoff given that they both have the quality of feeling like records the band had to make.

It establishes Pearson as an artist who's eager to experiment but in command of her musical identity.

The highlights are many, but "Black Flag Freestyle" with That Mexican OT sounds like a direct homage to Memphis greats Three 6ix Mafia.

Fujita clearly listens to nature as intently as he listens to music, and Migratory is a wondrous reflection of our environment.

At turns incisive and deeply felt, Ensoulment is more than a welcome return for Johnson and The The.

The group's reputation as London's craziest live act is not overexaggerated -- the fact that they've managed to capture that energy on record is exhilarating. They've bottled the spirit of chaos that has been haunting the masses in these uncertain times, catalyzing it into something that can be collectively expunged.

Yet another late-era treasure trove that highlights all the facets of Snow Patrol's pure emotional catharsis and introspection.

My Method Actor is a soft-spoken, probing outing for Yanya, one whose dreamy web of acoustic instruments and electronic accents persistently allures while scrutinizing.

Tindersticks sound like they are fully invested here and anyone still listening will be glad of that, as will anyone just checking them out for the first time. They are a band with a catalog worth getting lost in and Soft Tissue stands as one of their finest moments.

It may not equal his best albums as a crooner, but it's a cheerful, fun, sweet -- and melancholy at times -- record that consolidates and validates the revival of Lowe the rocker and for that, his fans should rejoice.

Memoir of a Sparklemuffin greatly expands and dramatizes the sound and scope of her relationship laments, putting it in the territory of Lana Del Rey and Angel Olsen's most extravagant works.

With the suggestion of metal even peering through from time to time, it's also his most consistently grunge-centric material to date. As usual, though, Maine makes the sound his own, not only with his distinctively weary and wary baritone vocals but with production touches.

Cascade is yet another marvelous Floating Points album, and easily the most successful work he's made as a dance producer.

It's a powerful and often unpredictable set that reminds us that even though it's been a while since his last album, LL Cool J's track record has far more hits than misses.

Hole Erth is definitely something of a departure for Toro y Moi and Bundick as he's never sounded quite as modern and rap friendly as this. Unsurprisingly to anyone who has been following him since the beginning, Bundick handles the shift with sure-handed aplomb, and everything he tries works out perfectly. As usual.

Everything Squared is nearly as engrossing as anything from the group's past.

More grounded and yet more transporting than many of their later albums, Born Horses is ample proof that Mercury Rev are still making moving, thoughtful, exciting music -- and like most of their best albums, there's nothing else quite like it.

With 2024's Short n' Sweet, Sabrina Carpenter reintroduces herself on an instant classic summer album of stylishly fun, smartly-executed pop.

Woodland continues their mastery of earthy country-folk songwriting that nods to tradition but is ultimately timeless and deeply human.

Amelia might have worked better if Anderson had kept the focus on Earhart's internal dialogue as she struggled to live up to the goal she set for herself and why she chose such a brave and challenging feat, but as it is, it's a collection of interesting ideas and striking moments where the whole doesn't quite equal the sum of the parts.

While the Heavy Heavy do seem to lift the occasional riff, the songs here sound like recordings lost in time for the most part, and the songcraft exceeds "lost outtake" status, with songs instead demanding headline standing of their own.

Hinds pull off their reboot with daring and style, in the process making a record easily good enough to stand proudly alongside their best work.

Not all of the melodies are as striking, however, and song for song, it's not quite as memorable as the previous two Molchat Doma records. Still, it's a massive step forward in terms of production, sound design, and overall ambition, and it signals the beginning of a new era for the band.

Much like Sinephro's debut, Endlessness is refreshing, enlightening, and awe-inspiring all at once.

The youthful presence of Romany's (as well as his son Gabriel's) vocals are a boon, lending to the largely collaborative feel. Still, it's undeniably a Gilmour album, woven through with the elegant, lyrical guitar playing and haunted vocals that are his signature.

There's a smattering of solid material here, but it's a lateral move at best, and for fans, it's hard not to wish for something more focused, more personal, and more notable.

Flat and unbelievable, Vultures 2 makes so little impact it's forgotten almost the moment it's over.

JPEGMAFIA's confrontational personality can be overbearing at times, especially to listeners who don't consider themselves to be chronically online, but his production is always stellar, and his sheer creativity is unparalleled. I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU is up there with LP! as the artist's most accessible work to date.

Lungu Boy has some great material, but having risen to the top with back-to-back successes, Asake appears to be experiencing a few growing pains.

Disconsolate, intricately produced, and surprisingly varied, all things considered, The Well I Fell Into should appeal to sympathetic fans as well as the less-folky sad-song set.

Infinite Health offers enough variation on his style so that it doesn't seem like he's covering old ground, even though it's actually some of his most nostalgic work.

It's a potent celebration of life amidst chaos and cruel fate, and while it still doesn't sound exactly happy, in its way it is the most optimistic LP Cave has ever made.

A more consistently angsty, saturated sound results that's in harmony with lyrics about struggle, self-examination, and challenging life events on songs with titles like "Change," "Sink," and "Fall Came Too Soon and Now I Wanna Throw Up."

They never clear the chateau dancefloor, and they add flashes of '80s synths on tracks like "Don't Change," video game music on "Kiki, You Complete Me," glockenspiel and fluttery effects on the mysterious "It's About Time," and a sense of urgency on the fiery "La Bomba." It all makes for a good time for all while at the same time offering to recede nicely into a groove-heavy background as needed.

It's still hard to listen to his more ambient material without comparing it to the sweeping rush of his dance music, which arrives at some truly staggering highs. Still, Ritual is an engaging experience that succeeds at transporting the listener and replenishing the soul.

The Bed I Made is easily the equal of any of their earlier work. It should make old fans very happy, while giving anyone lucky enough to come across the record a chance to discover that one of the best bands to come out of the indie rock scene of the 1990s is now one of the best bands of the 2020s too.

Bird's Eye is more of a grower than Hypnos, but it gradually reveals itself to be another marvelous, multifaceted record.

Beabadoobee refuses to be boxed in as she grows as a woman and artist, and on This Is How Tomorrow Moves, she dares her listeners to keep up with her changes.

They haven't stopped being unpredictable and confounding, and they're even exploring deeper emotional territory than before, yet their work becomes more cohesive the more one becomes familiar with it.

Stepping up significantly from the sometimes personality-light commercial sounds of her earlier work, Latto cultivates an atmosphere of palpable Deep South humidity and salacious fun on these songs.

Power more than lives up to the high standards Sarah Tudzin established on Let Me Do One More, and if you're in the mood for smart, insightful indie pop that's not afraid to rock, Illuminati Hotties is a band you need to hear.

By probing the heart's most vulnerable places on Meditations on Love, Susanna uncovers new angles on well-worn feelings and her music alike.

With most of the songs clocking in at under three minutes, when the album ends on the dramatic, 127-second "Blue Monday," with its tight, Beatles-styled harmonies and death-stained lyrics, it feels abrupt, but that may be also due to Konschuh's refusal to deliver catharsis, breaks in the clouds, or healing.

With Imaginal Disk, Magdalena Bay straddle pop worlds, bringing together a maximalist dance club atmosphere and ecstasy-laced, burning Wicker Man euphoria, all filtered through a dial-up computer dream of the pop future.

When all is said and done, they remain fantastic songwriters, able to convey a variety of emotions without relying on the trappings of punk. The corners may have been sanded off, but it has only revealed new and interesting textures underneath.

Oyster Cuts is a softly triumphant album, one that replaces the noncommittal vagueness that plagues so much indie rock with songs that tackle difficult feelings directly. It's a sound as beautiful as it is weary, and one that gets better the more involved you become with it.

Beneath the Neon Glow is thoroughly welcoming. It's a dynamic production adorned by polished songcraft, excellent charts, and peerless lyrics.

While it might be nice to see a little more focus on something nearer to a composite sound, Wishy have already got a good thing going on an auspicious debut LP.

This exercise works surprisingly well and, if one is a fan of this genre, F-1 Trillion knocks it out of the park.

Belong rides the line between dreamy songs and noisy nightmares expertly throughout the album. Most of the band's records are best experienced in full, front to back, and Realistic IX is the same but in a different way.

With Paradise State of Mind, Foster the People have made an end-of-summer album full of cathartic grooves.

It's an album that one can't help but to imagine making for impactful concert moments.

The combination of bright, '80s artifice, '90s cynicism, and 2020s uncertainty here works, if the "fun" is often tinged with consternation.

This does not add up to a Great Lost Justin Townes Earle Album. Instead, these bits and pieces he left behind testify to his gifts as a writer and performer, and remind us of just how much was lost when Earle died, as well as demonstrating that someone should have convinced him to do a solo acoustic album.

Devil Rides In is lovingly curated and offers surprises even for listeners who think they know the era's music well.

A Dancefloor in Ndola provides a valuable history lesson, but it also functions as a collection of great, uplifting dance music.

Dune Rats' attempts to kinda sorta reinvent themselves aren't always a roaring success, but none of them are abject failures either. If It Sucks, Turn It Up reveals they can change if they need to, though they are probably most comfortable just being their snotty, weed-addled selves.

Punk without guitars has been done before -- everything has. Few have done it with the blend of skill, imagination, and flat-out commitment that Osees exhibit on SORCS 80.

While there's plenty of dreamy heartache, it's the often bewildering beauty Chrystabell and Lynch achieve on this album that makes it an artistic milestone for both of them.

Sadly, Flight b741 is the first record they've made where it might make more sense to avoid the journey and stick to revisiting some of their glorious excursions of the past instead.

Even without its publicity stunt release, No Name would doubtless clicked with an awful lot of Jack White's fans, and it's the sort of idiosyncratic but lean and mean rock album he's needed to make for a while.

With Aghori Mhori Mei, Corgan and the Smashing Pumpkins have made an album for those grown-up kids, their fans; a rock & roll pyre lit with myth and memory.

The songs take agile twists and turns, the guitar interplay between Mike Haliechuk and Josh Zucker is satisfying and makes room for far more than the traditional four/four downstroke, and bassist Sandy Miranda and drummer Jonah Falco power this music with muscle and panache. And if the mix doesn't always put Abraham's vocals front and center, making it something of a challenge to understand all the lyrics, what's audible hits an admirable balance between rage and hope.

At the center of all this are Nascimento and Spalding, whose smiling interplay helps make Milton + Esperanza feel like both a capstone to a monumental career and continuation of a musical legacy.

It's an absolute must for fans, but also a great starting point for anyone who's a little more than just a casual listener, but not quite ready to venture too deep into the vaults.

If you appreciate Metheny's acoustic guitar recordings, MoonDial will undoubtedly delight, and its elegance folds seamlessly into its predecessors'.

SMILE! :D was clearly created with the intention of dealing with sharply conflicting emotions, but it still ends up being more uneven than expected, and it's just not as successful as Nurture.

If Smoke & Fiction proves to be X's final musical statement, they go out as they came in – unique, ferociously talented, and with plenty to say that's worth hearing, and they've stayed that way as the curtain falls.

Stampede is the work of a singer who is a star and obviously excited by the possibilities it offers him as a performer, but the best moments suggest he should offer a little more space for Orville Peck the Artist, who deserves his share of the spotlight.

Baldwin's words are woven into eight of the 17 tracks, whether sung by the pained if undaunted Justin Hicks on the rippling funk of "On the Mountain," or recited by Jamaican poet and activist Staceyann Chin on "Baldwin Manifesto I" and "Baldwin Manifesto II." The pieces that don't quote Baldwin are often equally charged, freighted with anguish.

Cults still aren't as easy to pin down as might be expected, but To the Ghosts reflects how they've endured without compromising the innocence and artful popcraft at the heart of their sound.

It's a lovely record with a lot of personality and passion that showcases a rarely heard instrumental combo.

The standout songs are great: the relentless bounce of "Did It First" with Central Cee is infectious in its fluidity, the sophomoric and slippery "Think U the Shit (Fart)" matches ridiculous lyrical brags with an undeniably funky instrumental, and "Gimme a Light" amps up a classic Sean Paul sample with a buzzing drill beat and Ice Spice's furious flow. The less substantial tracks blur together, even with help from other rap stars.

It's at times caught between escaping into nostalgic juvenilia and dialing in perfectly manicured indie rock productions, but ultimately, Crack Cloud joyfully exploring that incongruity is the entire point.

While 2016's Two Vines had its merits, Ask That God is a welcome return to the blissful, body-moving spirit of Empire of the Sun's first two classics.

Alex Izenberg & the Exiles is an album for late nights, back porches, and lonely weekends, and another intriguing entry in the growing catalog of a distinctive music personality.

In its moments of both catharsis and ambience, Vertigo maintains a consistent balance. It's a quietly adventurous album that never feels like it's pushing too hard in any one direction, even when the sounds are swinging from blown amplifiers to bubbly flutes.

At times, Dream of Delphi's soothing yet awestruck moods play more like a soundtrack than a set of songs, but those who savor Khan's powers of expression as much as her art pop savvy will find a lot to love here.

There's no heaviness here, no sense of torment. Even when he's singing about a "Swamp of Sadness" and wondering "If the Sun Never Rises Again," it's clear that Simpson has made his way through the darkness, settling into a place where he's utterly comfortable in his skin and scars.

Things shift a bit toward the end with the stomping neo-gospel of "On My Knees," a bit of testifying that recalls the bluster of Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats more than a Sunday service. The rest of Made by These Moments hums along to a neo-soul vibe that places the Red Clay Strays in Rateliff's wheelhouse, an expansion that doesn't necessarily seem like an evolution even if it broadens the band's appeal.

For the most part, however, The Death of Slim Shady is a bewildering slog to get through. The general concept gets old almost immediately, and from there we're left with a painful lack of new ideas

Cohen uses Paint a Room to circle through a deceptively wide spectrum of ideas and arrangements, organizing his various strange and beautiful sounds in a way that keeps drawing the listener's attention back, like trying to focus your eyes on something just out of view and figure out exactly what you're looking at.

There are enough good things in Hear the Children Sing the Evidence to understand why Salsburg wanted to document this experiment for posterity, but don't be surprised if you feel the need for a cup of coffee after putting this on repeat.

There is a wealth of emotions in the material -- some of which is self-critical -- along with some abrupt changes in style, such as the transition from the scruffy ballad "Spite" to the speedy electro-disco track "Less of You," two of many highlights. Even so, there's a flow to God Said No that rewards start-to-finish play.

It's telling that it takes cameos from a pair of rock superstars -- John Mayer helps sculpt "Better Days," Bruce Springsteen haunts the corridors of "Sandpaper" -- to help pull Bryan's aspirations into focus: where the rest of the record seems caught in its own head, these tunes have a forward motion that makes the rest of The Great American Bar Scene seem relatively bereft of musical imagination.

Dreamland may have been the album that made Glass Animals big, but song for song, I Love You So F***ing Much's thoughtful, anxious pop might be more rewarding.

Poetic symmetry drives much of Across the River of Stars and speaks to how our personal memories get intertwined with the music and movies we love, bridging us to the past. It's a poignant, desert-campfire texture they return to on songs like "Falling Forever," "Faded Glory," and "High Noon."

Bando Stone & the New World may not be his best album - it was always going to be impossible to dislodge “Awaken, My Love!” -- but it serves as a fitting summation of all the good-to-great music that has been released under the Gambino banner and might even give some clues as to where he's headed next.

Chaotic, poignant, pretentious, fascinating, and thoroughly entertaining despite or because of it all.

Blackgrass shows he can make a memorable bluegrass album as easily as he can craft a potent soul groove. The surroundings are unexpected, the quality is not.

While The Secret of Us finds her still vulnerable and singing with an audible frown, her delivery is stronger, arrangements are more sweeping and robust, and at least some of the songs are trying to look forward.

Alternating between imaginative reinterpretations and faithful renditions of familiar hits, offering a testament to the resilience of the songbook of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers.

Rateliff leads his crew through a panoply of '70s-touched roots rock, delivered with warmth, sincerity, and occasional bursts of grit. Even amid its themes of anxiety and overcoming trauma, South of Here manages to stay buoyant, and at times playful.

If it's possible to be fun and tedious at the same time, Lady on the Cusp fits the bill.

Orquesta Akokan aren't merely revivalists -- they create their own 21st century jazzy, polyrhythmic innovations, proving that mambo remains relevant musically, culturally, and spiritually.