The lack of instrumental country accouterments heightens the album's stylized spaciness; it's not earthbound, it floats upon a breeze. Sometimes, Rosegold threatens to drift away yet it's never threadbare: it's a singular mood piece, one that suits a spell of twilight reflection.

Earth Man Blues stands out slightly from the several records that came before it, for both its abundance of hooks and its tendency to take the songs even further off the deep end. As with most GbV albums, it's a wonderfully bizarre and occasionally disarming ride through warped thoughts and cracked beauty.

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.

Daddy's Home takes time to unfold in listeners' imaginations. It's much more of a mood than anything else in her body of work, but its hazy reconciliation of the good and bad of the past makes it as an uncompromising statement from her as ever.

Weller may often be adventurous, particularly during the third act inaugurated with 2008's 22 Dreams, yet he rarely seems as loose and playful as he does here, and that sense of mischief is an unexpected and welcome gift.

As a songbook, it's excellent, but it's equally effective as an album, as the trio harmonize and pick guitar with an emotional immediacy that gives The Marfa Tapes a warm, resonant immediacy.

Shirushi is as promising and satisfying a debut as any North American group has presented in quite a while.

Famous faces Drake, Future, Kid Cudi, Big Sean, Lil Baby, and Skepta also appear, but there's so much quality content to wade through on Slime Language 2 that their turns aren't even the most notable.

With Memoryland, CFCF looks back on a time when the future seemed limitless, reflecting on the promise of youth and how it's panned out so far.

Mist's classical inclinations take full form on "Once a Year," a brief, yet languorous chamber piece that, as with all of Bring Backs, underlines his wide-ranging taste.

Uneasy offers a portrait of an emergent trio discovering a multivalently complex language while simultaneously articulating its myriad possibilities. The end result is centered, action-oriented music that is at once gloriously colorful and brilliantly articulated.

It's dramatic, it's grand, and it proves yet again that Martin Phillipps hasn't lost a step and will hopefully go on for a long time making records as good as Scatterbrain.

While The Monster Who Hated Pennsylvania doesn't necessarily break new ground, it's a strong, affecting set from a songwriter who proves himself among the elite at doing more with less.

Dynamic, but well-balanced, this collection is perhaps the most conclusive example of Moctar's multidimensional talents to date.

As grim as the album seems, something constantly pulls it back from sinking into utter despair, and the majestic closer "Stonefruit" feels nothing less than triumphant.

The album is a varied selection with solid performances and production throughout. Much like the title suggests, The Off-Season feels like Cole running through different exercises as he gets in shape for something bigger.

A different kind of enjoyment than in the past, but just as good. Maybe even better.

Finley's singing radiates with hard-won experience and gratitude, and his producer succeeds in reflecting that spiritual power and emotional honesty without self-reference or artifice.

The finished album, mixed by Mario Caldato, has an immediacy that reflects its relatively quick conception and, coming after the nimble electronic experiments of 2019's Pang!, there's something bracing about the directness of Seeking New Gods.

Kingdom of Oblivion organically grafts trademark elements from Motorpsycho's previous work and influences onto literally spontaneous musical discoveries. The album is a pillar of 21st century rock, adding dimension and depth to the band's visionary legacy.

Her combination of sweet melodies and bitter moods, her conversational flow, and her self-awareness are all skills many songwriters twice her age would love to call their own, and they make Sour a well-rounded emotional journey and strong debut album.

Fly Pan Am's Frontera score is some of their most trance-inducing work, harnessing the power of repetition while retaining a crucial element of surprise.

Agreeable yet melancholic and peppered with moments of cinematic Lynch-ian weirdness, it's the purest and most satisfying distillation of Lord Huron's pastoral folk-pop to date, and the perfect soundtrack for a road trip to nowhere.

Gray has always been reflective, but in removing some of his sonic crutches, he's unearthed a bit of Van Morrison's mystic soul-food shine and brought his acumen as a songwriter front and center.

Throughout Take the Cake, PACKS put an intimate, warped spin on what are fundamentally great rocks songs. The result is a debut that's likely to compel return visits.

Lost in the Cedar Wood is not Flynn's most accessible record, but it might be his most immediate, and its communion of two masters in their prime makes for a satisfying listen.

While varied in style and arrangements, the album maintains a certain heartfelt, longing tone and unvarnished immediacy that engage in tandem with its solid songwriting core.

A beautifully nuanced work, Clara is both revealing and mysterious -- and Loscil fans wouldn't expect anything less.

Minus the two guest appearances, this is a one-woman show, from composition and instrumentation to mixing and mastering. The low end on this sucker is immense.

It's a solid and rewarding set of songs that sounds a bit different than his usual work but finds him working with some excellent and sympatico musicians who understand his craft and give him what he needs and more.

All the shifting sounds and emotions lend Blood an uneasy undercurrent that counters the immediacy of her melodies, but this tension isn't merely provocative, it's nourishing. Few pop records have captured the agitation of the early 2020s as well as this homespun project, which feels a bit like a beacon in the darkness.

Wide-ranging without seeming scattered, PostHuman is an effortlessly accomplished work.

Rostam's music didn't need much altering, but on Changephobia, it's more artful and heartfelt than ever.

It's the kind of big, unabashedly emotional album that people make memories to, and some of Wolf Alice's most confident and fully realized music.

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.

An album that offers familiar comfort even if it doesn't precisely sound like any previous Crowded House record.

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

What makes Hardware cook are the very elements that always work for Gibbons: deceptively sharp songwriting that supports full-throttle rockers and soulful, slow(er) grooves. It's a formula that's yielded great results for Gibbons throughout the years, and they do once again here.

As difficult and cathartic as the subject matter is, it's clear that she has come out on the other end and is not only thriving as an artist, but has found peace as a human. Having such a rich and compelling story to tell on a debut album is rare, and Russell delivers her tale with the utmost grace and finesse.

Their studio albums solidified Can's reputation as one of the most important and groundbreaking bands of their time, but Stuttgart 1975 exemplifies how that creative spirit translated to the stage, highlighting yet another side of Can's limitless ability.

Bodies is one of the stronger offerings from AFI's late era, stirring both the physical and emotional with urgency and heart.

While the powerfully cathartic Big Mess does feel overlong, it may serve as a rare case where that's masterfully appropriate.

At a brisk ten tracks, Ancient Dreams is a quick dose of what makes Marina great: heartfelt honesty from a fellow misfit consistently pushing the boundaries of pop.

The comforts A Few Stars Apart offer may not be original, but part of their power lies in their familiarity: it's the sound of tradition moving forward through the bad times and into the good ones.

Present Tense seems like a very good but somewhat straightforward Facs album until the last two tracks. The band took a more experimental approach to writing and recording that stands out on "Present Tense," where backward drums and cryptic observations ("all life remains kneeling in love") take on an almost spiritual dimension that feels equally ominous and optimistic, and on the brilliant closer "Mirrored," which brings the album full circle by adding a metal-tinged doom to the heaviness the band hinted at on the opening track "XOUT."

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.

Thematically inward-gazing, Lung reflects on matters of loneliness, substance abuse, and mental health, though the music comes across as inspired rather than overtly dour.

On Mother Nature, Kidjo delivers not only an infectious, danceable transcontinental showcase for the African continent's musical influence on global traditions, but emphatically proclaims it a primary engine in pop's future.

This would be an impressive first salvo from a new artist, and coming from a seasoned veteran, it's a truly welcome sign that her creative well isn't about to run dry.

Outlaw R&B suggests Danny Lee Blackwell hasn't completely turned his back on the Myth of a Man experiment, but he knows the right amount of dirt can give music some valuable texture, and this music is all the more enjoyable for its increase in grit.

It's an exciting album that comes on with such subtlety it's easy to miss how immaculately constructed it is the first several times through.

With Dacus' warm vocals and melodies leading the way throughout, Home Video is an engrossing set steeped in life lessons and nostalgia.

On Quietly Blowing It, M.C. Taylor reminds us he knows how we feel, and that he feels the same way; perhaps that helps only so much, but there's a lot to be said for a friendly voice during a hard time, and that's just what this album delivers.

Like Squirrel Flower's debut, Planet (i) is a journey through an ever changing landscape and marks a noticeable creative step forward for Williams.

When the production magic keeps up with her boundless spirit, the songs reach a unique hotspot of fun and infectiousness that makes all of Doja Cat's disparate impulses gel into an exhilarating whole.

Without drawing undo attention to himself, Darnielle has been moving from strength to strength as one of indie rock's most vital and original talents, and Dark in Here demonstrates he's working at the top of his game and it's a joy to hear.

All of this would merely be bubblegum pop fun if not for the band's knack for writing the kind of Hypercolor, stadium-sized singalong anthems that make up much of Greatest Hits.

For an album that thinks big, Escapades avoids being a sprawling mess, as the songs are incredibly focused and immediate, never trying to stuff too many ideas in, and never overstaying their welcome. It's far more mature than the harsh electro-house of Waters of Nazareth-era Justice, but it feels like a return to that level of creative inspiration.

By pushing each other out of their comfort zones, Beth and Gillespie make Utopian Ashes an unabashedly theatrical -- and consistently entertaining -- look at falling out of love.

This is not a record for people who like their noise rock packaged nicely or for those who need a melody or song structure; it's for people whose idea of the best thing to do on a Friday night is being locked in a basement with three sweaty rockers bashing out songs with all the fiery energy and unschooled enthusiasm of their heroes.

No surprises, no alterations, no problem. It's reassuringly great music made by a group that know exactly what they are doing and aren't afraid to keep doing it and doing it well.

Total absorption reveals that this is simply part of Sault's ever-expanding and increasingly colorful tapestry, no slapdash addendum.

At the Gates have been at the fore of the Scandinavian death metal scene since the early '90s -- Terminal Spirit Disease and Slaughter of the Soul are seminal works -- and the dark and inventive Nightmare of Being should ensure that they remain there.

Aside from the delicate "Anti-Romantic," the rest of the effort keeps the energy high with its hybrid blend of electronic, hip-hop, and anthemic rock flourish, resulting in a wholly engaging listen that ends all too soon.

Though the set feels somewhat sleepy upon first listen, repeat visits reward listeners with Staples' depth and wit, cementing Vince Staples as a simple yet focused statement from one of the West Coast's most relevant voices.

Forest of Your Problems is unlikely to win over anyone not already sold on their particularly odd formula, but there is something admirable about the continuation of their off-kilter approach, making this record a victory lap for their existing fan base and a promise that the rhythms won't stop anytime soon.

["Grow"] is worth the price of admission alone, but the rest of this brief set is such an unexpected surprise that it's worth the nearly half-hour investment. There seems to be nothing that Willow can't do as she adds rock to her résumé with ease.

Hotel Surrender is a testament to Murphy's skills as an artist and his attitude as a person.

Song for song, Hologram is a highly concentrated dose of all of A Place to Bury Strangers' strengths and a welcome return.

It's one of those rare albums where dropping the needle at different spots in the same song would yield wildly different sounds, but every move is so gradual and well thought out that the wild changes and potentially jarring clashes blend into one another seamlessly.

In sum, it doesn't displace or replace the original, but adds immeasurably to its meaning and dimension.

The end result is vast and ambitious yet deliberately welcoming. Its many sounds and rhythms greet listeners wherever they are and compel them to invest in an altogether wondrous sonic journey for body, mind, and soul.

The result is a crisp, concise package -- a bundle of summer anthems with the vivid emotions of summertime passion.

An album that fulfills the promise Aalegra showed on Feels and Ugh, Those Feels Again.

Crosby hints at his folkier origins without dispensing with the musical elasticity that characterized the rest of For Free, an expansion that serves as a gentle reminder that Crosby is in the midst of the longest sustained burst of creativity in his entire career.

It's a new and fantastic chapter in an ongoing body of uncontainable work, one where Birgy has never hesitated to dive into her own psyche and wrestle what she finds there back up to the surface for all to see.

Dave makes a potent second statement. His first steps outside of PSYCHODRAMA's concrete sphere of influence continue to cement his generational talent.

Change's artful, heartfelt expressions of frustration and hope aren't just perfect for the transformative time in which they appeared, they're also an exciting and satisfying reintroduction to Anika the solo artist.

Stand for Myself is a stunner with plenty of emotional firepower, but it can also feel soft as a wool blanket.

Native Sons is a tribute that manages to be more than a set of covers -- it shows what the band learned from these songs, as well as showing us where their long musical journey has taken them. It's essential listening from one of America's greatest bands.

Thirstier's confidence and optimism arrived when listeners in the early 2020s were hungry for both. If making her music as big and loud as it is here is what it takes to get people to realize what they've been missing with her music, then Thirstier is a wild success.

It's exceedingly rare for a band to come back after decades away and make something that measures up to what they were doing when they left off. Scientists have done that on Negativity, and that's something to celebrate.

More mature than either Strange Desire or Gone Now but just as life-affirming, Take the Sadness Out of Saturday Night is a refreshingly different perspective on Bleachers and a heartfelt soundtrack to millennial midlife crises.

Presenting raw emotion and over-the-top braggadocio with such exacting balance is part of IDK's talent, and he delivers on USEE4YOURSELF like never before.

None of the Indications' contemporaries have put together a set as distinctly purpose-built and delightful as this one.

A reinvigorated return, The Apple Drop shows that Liars can still reinvent their music and surprise listeners as they close out their second decade.

Nas sounds sharp and inspired throughout, giving performances that recall the uncanny brilliance that made his earliest work essential, but also showing he's still capable of taking his art to new places.

Jungle are at their most elevated throughout Loving in Stereo, in terms of both creativity and the general tone of the album. The songs are exploratory and fun, exuding energy and positivity and resulting in some of the group's best work to date.

Not only has she written an engaging set of songs, but they are played and captured with gusto.

This matured focus on concept and mood saves the album from becoming an odd catalog misstep, serving instead as a dignified artistic exercise that rewards the band's bravery by becoming the most heartfelt and poignant statement of their careers.

Still Slipping, Vol. 1 isn't the type of release that an artist would be likely to make at the beginning of their career. It's a labor of love requiring extensive reflection about how music and family have impacted one's life.

Try It... You Might Like It! is a stellar second effort from GA-20. They get the spirit and the sound right here in delivering enough sweaty, raucous, grooves to fuel a rent party all night long.

His work is full of the messy energy and surprising turns of a life lived hard, and on The Horses and the Hounds, the music speaks as vividly as his excellent songs. Not many artists pushing 60 get to deliver as satisfying a breakthrough as this one.

Year of the Spider is the work of four musicians who are not content to be goofballs -- they can maintain their creative vision while making more of it, and it's a great step forward for a band that's becoming deeper and more satisfying than one might have expected.

Pain and solace are the twin poles that guide these songs, and Wainwright's vocals capture a wealth of emotional detail; sounding a bit like Kate Bush without the comfort of fantasy to protect her, Wainwright rides over the melodies with a bold willingness to venture into the unexpected, and the dynamics of her voice as it weaves around the atmospheric arrangements is truly remarkable.

For those on board with the group's flagrant disregard for conventional songwriting, Deep States is willing to descend even further down the rabbit hole, with the band offering a good time despite all the twists and turns.

It's a sound that demands your surrender, which you don't mind giving in to.