While Versions of the Truth's second half is more subtle and laid-back, it is also more adventurous; it adds dimension and balance to an already deeply resonant outing.

There is no other album in Motorpsycho's vast catalog -- including its two companions -- that reaches these exploratory heights. For all of their ambition and excess, Motorpsycho never surrender their focus, their musicality, nor their powerful emotive directness.

Despite the prominent guest stars and radical musical changes, Shiver's focus is always on Jónsi and his innate gift for expressing pure feeling. As he reinvents what is essential to his music, he delivers some previously unimagined thrills.

All of his pleasantly confusing sounds align, creating an atmosphere that perfectly communicates the themes of openness and quiet excitement for the entirety of the album.

Free Humans is a dense album, with sounds stuffed into every available space and fields of ideas painstakingly arranged on each song. Both precisely calculated and boundlessly imaginative, Free Humans creates an expansive world in which Hen Ogledd can continue to sculpt their bizarre brand of pop music.

The resulting follow-up, Midnight Manor, finds the six-piece still cranking out riff-fueled, freewheeling rock jams about booze and women (and the music industry). ... Filler-free album.

Since so much of the album's power resides in its stunning production, this set might be slightly less revelatory than some of Harvey's other demo albums. Nevertheless, die-hard fans will savor the glimpse into her creative process that To Bring You My Love: The Demos provides.

Overflowing with confidence, Jisoo, Jennie, Rosé, and Lisa conquer each track on The Album with their vocal ability (both singing and rapping) and effortless charm, switching up styles to offer something for every type of fan.

True to form, Shamir continues to push boundaries as the album comes to a close with the dramatic vocals and strings of "In This Hole." Moments like this make it clear that this album isn't a simple return to pop for Shamir; it's a wide embrace of everything he can do with his music -- at this point in his career, anyway.

Good Luck with Whatever is dad rock at its finest, unapologetically classicist in tone and full of a hard-won gratitude. But the way that it's also struck through with a wry sense of existential dread speaks to the group's decidedly un-dad-like ability to perfectly capture the climate of the present moment.

Despite its overtly metaphysical esthetic, Holy Smokes Future Jokes goes down fairly easy, as the band conjure up melodies that swaddle Earley's heady yet homespun lyrics in the golden hues of breezy west coast pop and country-folk.

Produced and recorded with a skill that's all the more effective for its unwillingness to intrude on the band, Atlas Vending is a dazzling display of form and content that shows listeners how math rock can be effectively weaponized.

Folks who were expecting Lydia Loveless to be the next savior of country music may be thrown for a loop by Daughter, but anyone who wants to hear one of America's best and boldest songwriters working at the top of her game owes it to themselves to give it a careful listen.

After 2016's robust but scattered Everything at Once, the focused 10 Songs is a welcome return to their early style and one of the strongest statements in their catalog.

With Sad Hunk, Jurvanen has crafted an album about reaching the age where you don't care about being cool anymore, yet he somehow manages to find ever more nuanced and inspired levels of cool musical insight in the process.

The New OK sometimes feels uneven and precarious, which in this context is an asset rather than a failing; as a snapshot of America in October 2020, it's unnervingly accurate and devastatingly relatable, as well as a powerful set of work from a great American band.

Long in the Tooth is easily the most complex album in the Budos Band's catalog. It succeeds because they refuse to graft on too many extras into their sonic and stylistic approach. The music here retains the band's core strength -- they incessantly rely on deep, hard-swinging, intensely delivered grooves, no matter the material.

The album is a strong reaffirmation of Francis' stylistic elasticity. It covers even more territory than AlunaGeorge's preceding second album, I Remember, while coming across as more unified. Francis also challenges herself as a vocalist.

This gift for distilling complex emotions into relatable songs is just as vital to Beabadoobee's music as her rapidly evolving sound, and both shine on Fake It Flowers.

Regardless of the thematic angle, Ivey approaches his music with intelligence and heart, serving up concise views of both the inner and outer worlds on this very likeable sophomore set.

Album No. 8 is an intensely personal album that feels like Melua made it for herself first and foremost.

Nightcap at Wits' End is the most complete articulation of their wide-reaching creative range, and stands as the their most focused and engaging work to date.

The band is at the top of their game and the songs all sound great, but more importantly, the messages they're expressing have never been more relevant.

The album creates beauty out of fear and uncertainty, and it's among Laura Veirs' most personal and satisfying works to date.

In spite of its musical intricacy, This Is the Kit remains a relatable portal into the human experience and Off Off On is as appealing as anything Stables has ever released.

The dread that percolates throughout the album comes from the ominous production and burly subject matter, but Daveed Diggs' quick-witted and masterfully controlled flows amplify the anxiety. Like the masked killer in a scary movie, Diggs seems supernaturally several steps ahead at all times.

Burden of Proof finds Benny the Butcher fully formed after years of development and growth. There's even a marked upgrade in production compared to his 2018 outing Tana Talk 3.

Love Is the King is his very personal reaction to an increasingly difficult time in America's history, and while he doesn't pretend to have answers, this music is his own kind of therapy, recognizing his emotions and working through them before they devour him, and he makes both the process and the challenges well worth hearing.

Getting into Knives reminds us he's at the peak of his abilities in the art of record-making, and reminds us it's possible for a band to be brilliant without a shred of arrogance.

Forgotten Days is the album that will likely unite all Pallbearer fans. Its return-to-roots aesthetic is planted in a physical base that carries the band's dark, progressive doom into a new era.

On every track, Minus gives listeners a clear sense of her worldview and balances all the elements of her music with an organic sophistication remarkable for a debut album.

Tracks unloading Actress trademarks like clinking and swarming FX ("Diamond X") and fitful kick-drum jabs ("Leaves Against the Sky") are more alluring and welcoming than usual. Six years after he etched a headstone for music, this enigma has made the easiest point of entry into his catalog.

The combo of the bludgeoning sound, impressively hooky riffs and songs, and masterful, nearly over-the-top performances work together to make unmissable metallic magic.

Inward-looking, mysterious, and awash in found sounds, bucolic electronics, and naturalistic imagery, Don't Shy Away is both inexplicable and compelling, and is easily Loma's most rewarding outing to date.

Razzmatazz is a masterful debut, one that shows promise for a pair of musicians who proudly wear their influences on their sleeves.

Amidon's artistry is on full display on the eponymous album, with its sometimes-uncanny merging of timeless emotions, atmosphere, and musicality.

What's best is that Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny doesn't sound like it was brought into the 21st-century kicking and screaming. It does all that and more, but there's so much mad joy at the helm -- this is a band that would close their shows with a faithful cover of the Alan Parsons Project ballad "Time" while masked and covered in blood -- that the material feels bracing, vital, and rooted in the present.

It's a testament to his vision and do-it-all ability that he can work with roughly 50 fellow producers and guest artists and line up the results for an hour-long set with tracks that flow forth like they're being decanted.

Bonamassa has plenty of opportunity to show his facility with synthesizing different classic guitarists -- there's a bit of Rory Gallagher and Peter Green to offset his Claptonisms -- but the best moment on Royal Tea is "A Conversation with Alice," a chiming bit of soul-pop where he channels the best moments of Steve Marriott.

A pleasing amalgam of propulsive uptempo shoegaze, misty psych-pop, and layered acoustic songwriting, The View from Halfway Down offers an attractive compendium of Bell's accumulated strengths.

It shows Costello's mastery of mood and storytelling, the kind of skill he's acquired over the course of a long career, but the key to Hey Clockface is that these techniques are applied to a record that's as restless as anything Costello made in his younger days.

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.

Each of the tracks took a while to prepare, as Frusciante would fine-tune synth patches and arrange breakbeats, but the actual recordings were bashed out pretty quickly, and they all maintain that sense of elaborately designed spontaneity, making it easily the artist's most successful electronic work.

At a compact 12 tracks, Music Is the Weapon provides just enough inspiration to get the party started, but it is so good that -- if left on repeat -- it would be enough to fuel an entire night of hedonism.

Although lacking the silly and immature content found in their early output, the group retain their cheeky spirit, using that irreverence to process a society on the verge of collapse in a manner that's still uniquely Puscifer. As the world burns, Keenan and company hold a mirror to the calamity, forcing us to face reality and figure out a way to move forward.

It's a long album but stays on full power for its entirety, with the endlessly catchy songs of alien worlds standing as some of the brightest and strangest material the Rentals have ever delivered.

Dizzee has accomplished a lot in two decades, from pioneering a genre as a hotly tipped teenage prodigy to collaborating with pop stars on chart-topping hits, but his dedication to his craft has never been stronger, and E3 AF is proof of his lasting vitality.

For all of its epic grandiosity, May Our Chambers Be Full only clocks in at a mere 37 minutes, but in doing so leaves a more indelible impression.

Though Sour Cherry Bell delves into gloomier, more despairing moods than Precious Systems, it maintains a balance through radiant energy and never descends into overpowering hopelessness.

It's an album that demands close attention to catch its myriad details, but contradictorily lulls the listener into a state of distraction with its hypnotic pulse and deceptively calm exterior. As a result, the hidden textures and purposefully clashing tones of Fading might not reveal themselves upon first listen, but an album this dense and intentionally drawn just gets better each time it's revisited.

This is avant-punk for the ageless with songs that could appeal to the crustiest post-punk fanatic and those young enough to be living through their first global crisis.

Stapleton could use a bit of Petty's flair -- there's not a lot of humor here, nor are there any flirtations with modern sounds -- but his straight-ahead style nevertheless satisfies on Starting Over.

They don't dwell upon the past, they barrel forward with a set of turbocharged blues and high-octane rock that doesn't merely sound good, it feels nourishing.

Basinski approaches the varying chapters of Lamentations with an openness and fluidity that gels together even his most dissimilar ideas. Lamentations wanders cautiously between dark and hovering gloom, tender reflection, and moments of wistful nostalgia that almost feel gleeful. It's one of the more accessible of Basinski's offerings, and continues building on the delicate language of subtext and observation that makes his work so important.

A career highlight filled with well-earned warmth, Night Network is exactly the kind of album the Cribs should be making as they near their 20th anniversary.

While the collaborative nature and scant length of The Makarrata Project might have some fans wishing for more of a straightforward rock album after so many years away, the band nonetheless stay true to their long-held mission with a focused, purposeful, and culturally relevant return to form.

While their sophomore set was great in its own right, Impossible Weight feels leagues ahead, an introspective maturation that allows for both reflection and catharsis.

Jewel Box does have a bit of a scattershot feeling to it, but the title itself implies that it's a place where rarities and gems are collected. That's exactly what this set provides: some cuts are diamonds and some are zirconium, but they all have a bit of sparkle.

Roxanne's music is balming and refreshing, yet also reflective of an intense spiritual and physical journey, and Because of a Flower is a quietly powerful encapsulation of the progress she's made.

It's an impressive, filler-free debut that manages to be both uplifting and poignant, almost from beginning to end.

In terms of both recording fidelity and songwriting, Monument sounds much brighter and more polished, and contains some of their most hook-filled songs to date. It's also more overtly danceable than their earlier records.

This is a compelling, satisfying, richly musical statement from a gifted player developing a uniquely individual style.

The quality control isn't quite as tight. Some songs meander long after making their point. A greater position of the sequence, however, is filled with indestructible art that consoles, challenges, and invigorates with gospel, doo wop, highlife, psychedelicized garage rock, dub, and post-punk funk all filtered with uncommon aptitude through vintage outsider soul. Highlights are abundant.

Trip doesn't overlap much with Lambchop's original musical vision, but it finds the group picking up on the philosophy behind their early work, and it makes for a satisfying and affecting listening.

Some listeners may prefer to only focus on one or two chapters in this series, but 5EPS confirms that all of them make the grade, individually and collectively.

PLUS seems to meander as much as its predecessor, but its greater focus on rhythm helps it appear to hold together more strongly, and rapt concentration reveals that these pieces are as intricate and thoughtfully crafted as the duo's best work.

Something to Lose is more like a thoughtful early-morning walk through empty city streets. The glistening production and yearning performances don't change too much from song to song, but converge into an album-length mood of reflective bittersweetness.

While it might be impossible for them to be as shockingly distinctive as they were back in the day, they've kept up with the times, and Fires in Heaven is a return that's as strong as it is unexpected.

Portugal. The Man and the Last Artful, Dodgr crowd the space somewhat with tandem featured appearances on three tracks, but only "Nature of the Beast" sounds like it belongs on another project.

Even though Kirk used a restrained setup of vintage equipment to make Shadow of Fear, his vibrant energy and "don't look back" attitude keep the album sounding fresh and forward-thinking.

While Megan Thee Stallion presented herself as a force to be reckoned with from her earliest material, Good News finds her triple-X-rated sex rhymes, imposing charm, and ability to make it all appear effortless reaching new levels.

Despite its brief runtime, Be is an expert snapshot of time and place, a document of a worldwide event that manages to strengthen their connection to their listeners and push their songcraft forward with focus, heart, and humanity.

It's another epic statement rife with troubled beauty, presented from a slightly different angle but true to the spirit of longing and restless wonder that has defined the Smashing Pumpkins for over 30 years.

On 2020 Magik Markers don't just reflect the chaos of a year that felt more dystopian with each passing month; they make the most of the opportunity that difficult times provide to start fresh while honoring time-tested strengths.

The Symbol Remains is diverse, wildly creative, and expertly sequenced, making not only a consistent return for Blue Öyster Cult but a thoroughly inspired one as well.

Individually, these moments may not seem particularly eccentric yet when they're collected as an album, they add up to a charmingly off-kilter record, an album that benefits from its modest origins and McCartney's willingness to not polish too many of his rough edges.

While Bramblett manifests a degree of poignancy on all his records amid rowdy roadhouse rock and R&B, it is a guiding spirit on Pine Needle Fire, shot through with an aching yet grateful heart, abiding empathy, and self-effacing humor. It is exactly the kind of record the 2020s call for.

The Kennington MC puts forward some of his finest work to date, with a bold three-act that dips through the various strands of his career. While the sustainability of such a wide-ranging approach remains in question, Music, Trial and Trauma provides too strong of a tape to dispute, staking claims for the rapper across the U.K. spectrum.

Passionate and self-aware, Plastic Hearts is easily the finest incarnation of Cyrus' music yet.

The Maui recordings don't find him exploring much in the way of anything new, but he's in excellent form, playfully relaxed and fully engaged at the same time, and Mitch Mitchell's drumming is, as always, an excellent foil for Jimi's melodies and instrumental attack, while Billy Cox's subtle but solid bass anchors this music better than his predecessor, Noel Redding.

While the slower songs are fine, sometimes sincere, the growth on Wonder is all evident on the livelier tunes, all of which point toward a more adventurous twenties for Shawn Mendes.

Many songs are led by synth lines, and the curious instrumental track "Land Surveyor" has more in common with the moon-walking electro of early-2000s Mouse on Mars than the organic electronics-tinged rock of the band's last few albums. Final track "Upside Down Bottomless Pit" has a similar blend of enhanced digital dabbling and Kinsella's patented songwriting, offering the kind of cerebral expression of beauty and despair he's dealt in since the group began.

Yet another emotional roller coaster, this is the Avalanches' longest one yet.

Evermore as a whole doesn't play as a sad album. Swift enjoys playing with the new musical and emotional colors on her palette for Evermore to anything but a warm balm, a record suited for contemplation, not loneliness.

This set takes the intermittent collaboration between these artists to a wonderful new level of creativity, communication, and nearly symbiotic experimentation.

Driven by a restless exploratory spirit, Gengras uncovers something new during nearly every moment of the album, which indeed consists of some of his most playful work.

Rollins in Holland is handsomely packaged with rare photos and some lengthy historical essays. The importance of this release cannot be overstated; Rollins' playing here is at a peak of unfettered creativity, communicative openness, and technical acumen.

Not only does Little Bastards get at everything that makes the Kills equally enduring and inventive, it's a lot of fun, too.

El Último Tour del Mundo is Bad Bunny's most adventurous outing. With so much going on, it may take longtime fans a few listens to fully grasp, but the record will ultimately leave its infectious hooks, earworms, and strangeness fully embedded.

Universal Beings E&F Sides is, therefore, not only a fine follow-up, but a visionary outing of its own that also stands as required listening for post-millennial jazz fans.

The Bats' ability to achieve beautiful new results by returning time and again to the same specific set of sounds and inspirations remains one of the best things about the band.

The album is celebratory rather than mournful, channeling the positive, creative energy of these spirits and honoring the fleeting miracle of life.

Cut live to disc without the possibility for edits or overdubs, mistakes get made, but none get in the way. Make no assumptions, though: Night Dreamer is not a free-for-all jam; the music and charts here may be uncomplicated but are also tightly arranged and sophisticated -- everything is in its proper place, including the grit and grease -- placed in service to the almighty groove, with no room for overplaying or peacocking.

The seven songs maintain a consistent approach, hovering between terror and transcendence for the albums' duration. ... To maintain this type of tension and still create a listenable, even beautiful album is a rare feat, and exploring this tension is one of the factors that makes Ballet of Apes such an interesting listening experience.

The record works as a tribute to the music of Michael Yonkers, hopefully inspiring anyone who isn't familiar with his work to do some investigating, while also providing Dwyer with the creative boost and general head clearing he needed. Best of all, it's a blast of an album that fuses what's great about Damaged Bug and Oh Sees into one giant behemoth of sound and vision that's impossible to ignore.

The distorted thumps and dislocated bass of tracks like "UN Sanctions" are intense and mesmerizing, and additional touches like the whooping vocals of "Immortal" or the trancey synths of "Why" elevate the energy level even further.

The duo end up complementing each other brilliantly, as their ideas flow spontaneously yet are executed with precision, resulting in a genuinely free-spirited, joyous work.

If the final track is an act of public mourning, the rest of J.T. is the loving and appreciative celebration Justin Townes Earle's music deserves.