With You're the One, Paul Simon is back on track, writing and recording timeless music that keeps him on par with Neil Young and David Bowie, but in his comforting familiar way.

Fans of Chesnutt, Elf Power, or smart and adventurous pop music in general should put this one on their shopping lists.

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.

Ambitions is somewhat of a slow burner, but it's more cohesive and focused than meandering. Thomas has a masterful way of following his muse, and the album maintains a sense of spontaneity, as well as a casual demeanor, without sacrificing high standards of craft.

A bit less club-ready than Livanskiy's other releases, Liminal Soul is a stirring set of late-night reflections.

No One Can Ever Know reaffirms that the Twilight Sad are unafraid of challenging themselves or their listeners, and for better or worse, there's something admirable about that uncompromising attitude.

Before the Dawn Heals Us is ambitious for sure, an emphatic step forward from the linger of Dead Cities.

Stylistically speaking, the 11-track set doesn't deviate much from the formula the band established on its prior outings, but it will no doubt please longtime fans just looking for something new to pump their fists to.

Anyone who was spoken to by the low-lit intimacy of The Creek Drank the Cradle should seek out Archive Series, Vol. 1 as a perfect companion piece to that album and as deeper look into what must have been an incredibly inspired and productive time for the young songwriter.

Even making an allowance for Hook's glaring absence, Music Complete is still a watered-down and uninspired album by a band that lost the plot long ago and can now only capture an occasional glimmer of what made it so great in the first place.

Ultimately, Fool isn't as satisfying as Jackson's more straightforward work of the '80s, but if this sometime suffers from too much ambition, Jackson clearly is good enough to come close to what he's aiming for, and in the moments where he connects, it's a truly impressive piece of work.

A thoroughly satisfying and intriguing record that pushes Fanfarlo toward new boundaries.

Truly a bold step forward for the band, the album takes Grooms to their next plateau the same way Daydream Nation proved Sonic Youth's breakthrough almost 30 years earlier.

Overall, Blind Spot works well on many levels. It shows the bandmembers aren't just exercising their nostalgic muscles while looking for a quick buck. It shows they are still capable of writing and recording very Lush-sounding music.

Keeping up with Children of Alice's quicksilver changes and hypnotic passages requires listeners' full attention, but it's well worth it--these ever-transforming soundworlds honor the magic that Broadcast tapped into with Keenan while suggesting an equally fascinating way forward.

Good proof that tranquil moments are just as powerful as deafening ones.

Wander/Wonder is an exercise in depth, a flowing suite of mermaid's lullabies that turn seductive.

Keith Troup, who was slain in 2015 and gets a moving tribute in the mixtape's highlight "King TROUP." The rest of the best comes from the empowering music that reflects the mixtape's title.

Hayashi's music can be hard to grasp at first, but it's clear that he's interested in channeling the spirit of all the music he loves while taking it to a different place, and listening to his music is a fun and mysterious experience.

The appealing thing about Soberish is how it holds two thoughts (and sounds) simultaneously, a record that revives the spirit of Phair's earliest albums while casually leaning into her middle age.

Eight is energetic, inspired, and hits with one melodic hook after another, capturing the sound of a band overjoyed to be back and having the time of their lives.

Their music is soothing, rustic, lonesome, and ethereal all at once.

While parts of Too show FIDLAR trying to find their footing, it's all part of their evolution and is not without its charms.

It showcases the strength of an 11-piece band willing to experiment as they assimilate inspirations--from Stax, Muscle Shoals, Motown, Delaney & Bonnie, blues, and jazz--and incorporate their various experiences into a new whole.

Where Vol. 1 presented shorter versions of singles from their earliest incarnation and shaped them into a seamless full-length, this set is different in approach and sound, though no less worthy. It covers a wider sonic scope and brings us up to 2009 in their evolution.

Though there are a few more abstract pieces -- like the brief, scattered "Got Me" -- as a whole, The Sunset Violent focuses on impressionistic snapshots and daydream-like reflections. It's easily the most unified record Mount Kimbie has produced, especially in stark contrast to their previous effort.

If you're a fan of Williams, there are no surprises here, just ten more great songs to add to a catalog that might one day get the credit it's due for the pop star's contribution to, what else, Brit-pop.

Just two-and-a-half hours and 34 tracks (including two hidden bonuses at the end of the third disc) of solid rhyming and beatmaking, most of them excellent, some of them brilliant, a handful of them merely good. That's quite a batting average.

It's a shame this little team [Dee Dee, producer Gottehrer and Raveonettes' Wagner]couldn't make more records like this.

If the format doesn't seem as fresh as it did back in 2016, when Full Circle was the first record released from the sessions, that's only due to it being the fourth in a series of albums. On its own merits, Still Woman Enough is strong and vibrant, a testament to Lynn's enduring gifts and place in the firmament of 20th century country music.

Thanks to the meticulous production values, the insane catchiness of the hooks, and the pure and true emotional underpinnings below all the gloss, the album is a total success of both sound and vision.

Sonically, this is right in line with Dylan's 2000s albums, the sound of a well-lubricated traveling band easing into the same chords they play every night, but this isn't strictly roadhouse rock & roll: Dylan remains fixated on pre-rock & roll American music, emphasizing the blues but eager to croon love-struck ballads.

All in all, UFO is another valuable addition to their canon, completed with skill and affection in equal measure.

In their best moments, No Joy not only expand on these ideas, but improve on them.

Fortunately for fans of their punishing past, New Moon smoothes out the edges without getting rid of them completely, leaving just enough rough patches here and there to remind listeners that there's still plenty of muscle hiding just below their languid façade.

Dense, powerful, wild, yet immaculately rendered, Animal Joy blends the expansive, cinematic scope of contemporaries like Other Lives and the National with the arty drama of "San Jacinto"-era Peter Gabriel.

A River Ain't Too Much to Love is a subdued, plaintive collection of songs that accompany silence; they encourage reflection without guile and unveil themselves without a hint of studied artifice.

Canada's greatest contribution to Americana since Blue Rodeo have been consistently topping themselves with each new album, and their sixth, New Seasons, is another triumph.

Capturing the freedom and loneliness of independence, Body Talk, Pt. 1 is a concise set of songs on its own, and an impressive first third of the whole ambitious project.

Doubled Exposure, recorded by Jason Meagher at Black Dirt Studios in upstate New York, has a rich, full, warm, and still live-sounding and edgy wash of grit all over it, and it is Speer's most accessible album yet, if accessible means one can't help being kind of fascinated by it.

Ultimately, Wand's gift for songwriting guides the endless psychedelic tug of war that is Ganglion Reef, offering listeners something turbulent and strange but deeply rooted in strong tunes.

"Al Q8a," Suicide by Cop," and "Patriot Act" live up to their provocative titles, dropping punch lines even Bill Maher would deem "risky," but those who disagree with the man's bullshit detector will have to give it up on his wordplay and layered arguments. Such uncompromising rhymes means Eat Pray Thug falls firmly in the category of "ain't for everybody," but that's the thrilling bit, as everything else about the album is alluring.

Testarossa is a perfect road trip album, albeit one that's best put to use when the listener takes the road less traveled.

The second half is far too weighted to favor ballads. So much so, in fact, that the poignant closer, "Longest Lasting Friend," is almost lost in the shuffle despite its arresting quality. That's a small complaint, however, Holy Moly! is strong, relentlessly creative, and restlessly self-assured in its aspirations.

While Kings of Convenience don't cover fresh territory with Peace or Love, they do what they do as impeccably as ever here and offer a handful changeups and hummable tunes along the way. It should serve as a welcome return for any established fans.

As the uplifting positivity of "For You" closes the album on an optimistic note, Billy Talent takes the storm of emotions churning through the preceding cuts and salvages the light that remains, avoiding the titular inner conflict by focusing on that which gives us hope and peace.

With Headful of Sugar, Sunflower Bean turn the pangs of growing up into hypnotic, intoxicating pop.

To be sure, it's an accomplishment and one that showcases the Black Keys' deepening skills but at times it's hard not to miss how the duo used to grab a listener by the neck and not let go.

The Secret Migration is oddly too conventional and too quirky; it's another paradox that this album, which in its own way is Mercury Rev's happiest album, is also, sadly, the weakest of their career.

Their roots are just that--roots, not anchors, allowing the group to grow, often in unexpected and quietly thrilling ways.

He's orchestrated a unified, dramatic album -- it's a tapestry of impeccable, sorrowful, yet sultry soundscapes -- but given the pedigree of this band, it's hard not to wish that the album offered more of the quartet just playing, gussied up with no effect. Nevertheless, as an album The Good, the Bad & the Queen is singularly effective.

Miracle Temple is gorgeous. Its songs contain poignancy, pathos, pain, and desire inside gritty yet artfully played Southern gothic rock & roll.

The Official Body is a frequently dazzling example of how resistance can be fortifying and even fun.

Pleasant if undemanding listening.

At 77 minutes and 23 tracks, the sprawling album is weighed down by some filler and redundant numbers, but as a step forward for a party band riding on whatever the Dirty South sound of the moment is, it's surprisingly bold and accomplished.

The result is an unpredictable, captivating listening experience.

This is the sound of a band that's growing fearless in middle age, and while the record occasionally does drag--all those long songs push it over an hour, but the sequencing makes it feel even longer--there's also a thrill hearing a band unafraid to stumble.

Iceage have done a fair bit of reinvention on Plowing Into the Field of Love, but if the sound is less brutal, it's no less challenging, and emotionally this hits as hard as anything they've released to date.

Perhaps out of necessity, the group seem more inspired here than they have in a while, and the result is arguably their best work since their 2000 opus Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven.

The Markers strip away the most abrasive parts of their previous work, add just the right amount of melodies and structure, and somehow maintain the free-flowing, experimental heart of their music. It's not much of a stretch to say that the results are something of a revelation.

The impossibly orchestrated compositions on Songs Cycled are constantly unraveling and being wound back in, making them a little bit hard to keep up with at times, but something amazing to behold nonetheless.

My Favourite Faded Fantasy may come on as a bit underwhelming at first but that's the intent: it's not designed to grab, it's designed to soothe and then slowly worm its way into the subconscious, which is where these eight songs reveal themselves to be as strong as anything else Rice has written.

He reaffirms his connection to hip-hop and remains distinctive from the scores of beatmakers who have followed him.

Despite its overall dreamy, soft-spoken approach, Invitation is often weighty, full of thought and longing as well as moments of wonder. It's an affecting mix, one that lingers and withstands repeat listens.

Its structure of pop songs threaded together with interview clips makes it feel a bit more essay-ish than the debut, which was named after a phrase Jayda often used in her final thesis. That said, Jayda does a magnificent job connecting deeply personal stories with accessible music.

Before the Poison is poetic and unnerving; it stands alone in her catalog in the same way that Broken English did -- but this time, on the other side of the mirror.

Really, they show a lot on Belong -- that they can take their sound to the next level, that they haven't lost any of their good-natured band-next-door charm, and most of all, that they can make a great-sounding modern rock album without selling their souls.

Following the stripped-down, melancholy electro-R&B of his 2015 album Midnight Snack, Homeshake's Peter Sagar expands on this sound with the less weird, more refined Fresh Air.

Here, it's possible to hear the band gel--Alex Chilton and Jody Stephens found a balance with Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow, something that's obvious by the group's subsequent history, but on this spirited show you can hear the gears fall into place and that's worth the price of admission, perhaps more than once.

The brooding, hymn-like closer "Care" and the resplendent coming out anthem "He Came From the Sun" hew closer to the sonic intimacy that was generated on 2015's Architect, but even they feel larger than life, signaling not so much a stylistic shift for Duncan, but a maturation of his ability to build worlds out of sound, and in his overall confidence as well.

One True Pairing is an equally welcome return and introduction to his music.

The Highest in the Land may not be the strongest Jazz Butcher release, but it certainly has enough frothy treats and swooning bits of heartbreak to remind everyone why they -- and Fish -- were so delightful.

The whole album has that kind of off-kilter appeal and even when the singers break things down lyrically to the elemental level of survival in a world seemingly on the brink of collapse, this is music meant to transport the listener. Consider it a job well done and enough of an artistic success that one hopes the trio makes this one time gathering of like-minded souls a more regular occurrence.

Overall, Ores & Minerals is a showcase of the band's strengths that finds an original band settling in and taking their ideas to the next level of clever.

Even though listening closely enough on some songs reveals Smith shouting out the changes to his band, the collision of off-the-cuff recording techniques and intricate songwriting produces another colorful chapter of Sonny & the Sunsets' tireless and always beautiful work.

Personal and grand at the same time, Again's mixtape of memories continues Lopatin's enduring brilliance at moving forward by looking back.

Out of Breach isn't much different from 2003's Afro Finger and Gel, flitting between left-field house that is remotely danceable and bracingly atonal sheets of noise, often within the span of one track.

This self-aware mortality is the trump card of Beauty & Ruin, as Mould neither denies his youth nor his age; as he explores his pain, he finds emotional and musical narrative to tie his past to his present and the results are powerful.

Almost all of this virtual grab bag's 12 songs go in slightly different directions, from the spoken-sung punk essay of the title track to cold lo-fi synth minimalism on "Psycho Structures" to a fairly straight-faced cover of Nancy Sinatra's country-rock classic "These Boots."

Overall, though, this is an enjoyable, danceable working holiday from Sitek, one that shows aspects of his music that bode well for his many other projects.

The album is always fantastical and innocent, a meeting of magic and technology.

Most importantly, though, the duo has pulled away from the brink; no one ever doubted that Autechre was at the extreme of experimental techno for its own sake, but given a record like Draft 7.30, listeners might actually return for multiple listens.

This time the group finds a better balance of the simple and the strange, making Loud Like Nature their most exciting album since Avant Hard.

With Atlas, Latin rock quintet Kinky move closer to actual rock than the electronic pop of their 2001 debut allowed.

Save for the unfortunate hip-hop slip-up of "Prego Amore," this is an excellent set of mellow electronic pop.

We'll Never Turn Back is the kind of album we need at the moment, one that doesn't flinch from the tradition but doesn't present it as a museum piece either.

Rundle, Burns, and Clinco are all strong musicians and it's usually their intricate post-rock pedigree that helps to pull them back into the present, making Salome a step in the right direction for them.

What they lack in adolescent kick they more than compensate with savvy, smarts, and muscle, sounding like passionate survivors who are happy to fight for what they love in an era that takes such spirit for granted.

The forward evolution of Life Metal has been balanced and extended into a mercurial spirit through formless, receptive interaction on Pyroclasts.

Cathartic and confident, Prey//IV releases her pain with a diamond-like strength and clarity that is entirely her own.

Hard Times Furious Dancing is as much a mission statement here as an album title, and the band deliver unfiltered reports on the challenges of the modern world, as well as an invitation to the dancefloor as a place to shake loose some of the stress of those challenges.

The Loon is crafted like a true album; even if all the songs don't quite reach the level of its highlights, it all hangs together well.

Taken as a whole, The Republic is a heady yet enjoyable collection of electronic sounds that retains the graceful beauty Prekop has breathed into all of his creations, just with a slightly different approach.

It's a clear and focused return to the peaks the band found in the mid-2000s, and as enjoyable a listen as the best of their work.

If Wilco (The Album) as a whole is considerably less ambitious than its predecessors, it compensates with its easy confidence and craft: it's the work of a band that knows their strengths and knows what they're all about, and it's ready to settle into an agreeably comfortable groove.

Masts of Manhatta walks this line [the pull of the two extremes] throughout, sometimes getting quite a bit livelier, sometimes indulging in decidedly moody textures, always twisting just slightly from the expected, making for a record that's quite intriguing upon the first listen and better on repeats, where the songs begin to dig in and all the textures gain resonance.

The album constantly maintains feelings of loneliness and obsession, and serves equally as a soundtrack for fantasy exploration as well as late-night dancefloor enrapturement.

For the most part, Silver & Gold stays true to Stevens' predilection for kitchen sink, lo-fi chamber pop, but he plays fast and loose with the formula.