Hour of the Dawn is great garage pop, some of the best being made in 2014, and is the best La Sera album yet.

Don't call it a comeback, call it a triumphant return of the conquering heroes, and next time you want to rock unapologetically, this album ought to be among the first options.

Metalmania is a strong album, definitely full of promise and quite a few songs that wouldn't sound out of place on a playlist with classic Flying Nun tracks.

Altogether infectious and loaded with robust basslines, the result of the collaboration is slightly restrained for Garbus and ornate for Smith, finding a savory middle ground that, though not without its more reflective moments and plenty of angst, consistently merits smiles and moving feet.

It first impresses with its savvy, swinging retro vibes, but it resonates thanks to those strong, enduring songs.

While there's certainly a sorrowful theme to this album, it doesn't seem like West is merely interested in creating dark, depressing music; there's still something hopeful and encouraging about it.

Maturing past their screamo years was a necessary endeavor, but on Wait for Love, PBTT feel a bit stuck in phase two.

Garcia Peoples are well-known for their dynamic live shows, and a jam-oriented cassette-tape community has since coalesced around them. In the studio, though, with just two LPs to their credit, they've already forged an unexpected creative path that feels like it could go any number of ways.

It's a flawlessly executed document of pristine production and incremental bursts of verve and joy to keep the music from dissolving into its own atmosphere. The challenge here, however, is finding the right mood to appreciate the Weeknd's lengthy and elaborate funeral for himself.

As with all of his ambient works, it's minimal and non-distracting, but there are subtle alterations and changes, and it does reward any amount of attention paid to it.

Thrashing Thru The Passion feels mature but not stuffy or settled; it's the sound of a group that cherishes their own peculiar chemistry and choose to bask within the righteous noise they make.

Recorded in just two days, the excitement coursing through Mourn's entire 24 minutes (including the bonus track "Boys Are Cunts") makes its funny, scary, pissed-off punk that much more irresistible.

The Scene Between isn't the Go! Team's best, but it is an impressive new start that consolidates most of their strengths in a bright shiny ball and sends the band shooting off in a brilliant new-ish direction.

The album feels like a departure: with its soft orchestral balm and sweet melancholic undertow, OK Human offers a singular, complete listening experience unlike anything else in their catalog.

Given its length and glacial pacing, Ensemble Pearl may not resonate for all fans of O'Malley's--or his collaborators--other projects, but it is a singular work that offers considerable rewards for those who will engage with it on its own terms.

The collection ultimately ends up feeling like a tribute as well as a remix album, serving to highlight Sakamoto's considerable influence on generations of forward-thinking electronic musicians.

That Rilo Kiley jump around so much stylistically could slow down More Adventurous' heat-seeker status.

For anyone sifting through a broken relationship and self-letdown, this could all be therapeutic. Otherwise, no matter its commendable fearlessness, the album is a listless, bleary trudge along West's permafrost.

Through it all, Tennant and Lowe feel as confident and progressive as ever, honoring their signature sound while continuing to push it into the future.

Stronger with Each Tear is a very good Blige album, if not quite a classic.

In somebody else's hands, the introspection of Lovesick Blues could turn solipsistic or sodden, but he strikes precisely the right notes, creating an album that serves as a suitable soundtrack for long, lonely nights.

It may be no different than what came before, but Rock or Bust is by many measures stronger than most latter-day AC/DC albums, serving as a testament to why their good-humored raunch and industrial-strength riffs made them a rock & roll institution.

While there's a small but significant gap between Honeyblood's outstanding songs and the rest of the album, it's still a debut full of moments of depth and moments of instant gratification--as well as lots of potential.

Slow Summits is an unhurried, understated masterpiece that should make fans of the band, and of music in general, glad that the Pastels have not only stuck with it for so long, but grown into the kind of group that could release something this warm and beautiful.

The album was co-produced by the band and Grammy winner Graham Marsh, who's engineered for the likes of Bruno Mars and Cee Lo Green, and they draw focus to the group's star vocalist without skimping on rhythm and atmosphere. That atmosphere is light reverb, heartache, summer vacation, nostalgia, and Woodward Avenue in Detroit.

It's another page in Vile's ongoing catalog of daydreams and stoned musings, in its best moments reaching the same levels of quality as his fully considered albums.

Ultimately, Heza is a nuanced work that flirts with the experimental, but always remains intimate, atmospheric, and endlessly listenable.

The effects-heavy guitar constructions of Arrow are the most emotionally intense Noveller material from Lipstate yet, making it easily one of her most expressive and fully formed statements to date.

Unlike their first two albums, which landed high on the breeziness scale, Mirror II is a tougher listen. It's clear that the band want to grow and expand their musical horizons but less clear that they are able to do that successfully. That being said, ultimately there is enough craft to the songwriting, energetic verve in the performances, and painful truth in the lyrics that the album is worth listening to, and the band is worth sticking with if only to see where they go from here.

With the exception of a few clunkers, this disjointed flow becomes a defining characteristic of Love Chant. There’s a sense throughout that Dando is now comfortable enough with himself to take all the time he needs to explore weird ideas and decide where they start and end. That embrace of his own artistic whims is admirable, as is his choice to tread new ground rather than try to re-create his most successful work from the past.

If State Hospital is an indication of things to come, then Frightened Rabbit should have 2013's unremittingly bleak indie rock scene sewn up.

Joanna Gruesome make music that's at once breath-catchingly exciting and heartwarmingly pretty at its core, and their first album is one that noise pop fans will treasure, crummy name and all.

Even at high volume and off-the-charts speeds, Quarterbacks' main attribute is the wistful beauty that defines Engle's lyrics and attaches itself to the smartly composed tunes.

There's little ambiguity here and, compared to their earlier work, it's a refreshing evolution and maturation. That a group of Canadian punks would be the voices of reason in 2019 is a wonder in itself; that they've delivered one of the most accomplished albums in their catalog this late in their careers is another.

In Hatfield's hands, the songs of Sting and the Police don't necessarily sound like hits -- nor are they performed with the technical proficiency of Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland -- but they sound fresh and alive, once again feeling like punk-inspired pop.

Goldblum sounds good, and his fans probably wouldn't mind hearing more of him and less of his friends.

Thirstier's anthems of devotion might be more immediately gratifying, but the eloquent expressions of love's uncomfortable and uncertain parts that fill What an Enormous Room are a testament to Torres' insatiable need to seek out emotional truths.

The Blue Depths is an album first and foremost and is assembled as one. Therefore, it should be listened to that way; because the aura it creates around the listener--particularly through headphones--is nothing short of spectacular.

A lot of people have done the same kind of excavation and restoration work he has, but few have done it as memorably. Almost no one has done it with songs as good as these.

Braid continue their story here, branching out in new directions and leaving room to wonder what comes next.

More than any other Jill Scott album--each one is either nearly or well over an hour in length--its impact would likely deepen with some trimming and resequencing. Nonetheless, there's enough high-quality content to sustain Scott's status as one of the most unique and powerful voices in R&B.

This is the album where it all changed, as the one they call Young Sinatra comes into his own and proves his nearly perfect debut was no isolated fluke.

With Mosey, Daniel Romano leaves no doubt that he's got the talent to bring us something worth hearing regardless of the approach he takes, and if the sound of this set is something of a surprise, the quality is certainly consistent with Romano's best work.

Ohio Players isn't the most frantic celebration the Black Keys have delivered, but more than enough of it will get your body moving that it qualifies as a success.

Pay The Devil is at the crossroads of country, blues and soul. In his voice is the authority to bring them together.

Koushik has a few contemporaries doing something similar (Nobody, Four Tet, Caribou), but apart from Caribou's Andorra, none of them has come up with an album as good overall as Out My Window.

Certainly The Mystery of Heaven is a standalone recording and is to be enjoyed on its own.

Palme doesn't mince words; its pleasures are meticulously crafted and perfectly executed, and they succeed or fail based only on which way the listener falls in regards to Arnalds idiosyncratic voice, much like Joanna Newsom's.

On The Deepest Lake, they deliver music that's thoughtful, imaginative, and sensuous in all the best ways, and this album is a joy for listeners with a taste for sonic adventure.

Permo is a fine work by a band finding its feet; a rousing rumble through the wilds of Scottish pop; and the kind of record lovers of knotty guitars, deadpan (but deep) emotions, and undersold (but undeniably lasting) melodies should recognize and embrace like an old friend in new clothing.

Throughout, the 400 Unit, specifically Amanda Shires, who provides soaring harmonies and some truly emotive violin work, adds considerable sonic heft to the proceedings, and help to imbue Ritter's workmanlike folk-rock narratives with the kind of studio finesse that sometimes eludes him when left to his own devices.

In its amorphous flow and stately pace, In Ferneaux is a little less immediate than some of Blanck Mass' previous music, but its fully realized, cathartic musical journey is just as powerful.

Wild Onion makes a huge impact from beginning to end, and serves notice to all the bands out there who think they are playing rock & roll the way it should be played that there are some new kids on the scene who can show them a thing or ten.

Flockaveli has enough hooks and attitude to keep those bottles poppin' all night long, and whether or not you remember any of it the next day, it does serve its purpose.

There's a sense of rollicking craziness throughout, some busting out, some swaggering boogie breakdowns.

At times, it's tempting to wonder if Blank Realm would sound even better if they focused more, but Go Easy is so likable that it would be a shame to sacrifice any of the band's charm in a quest for perfection.

As per usual, the band has little interest in settling into any specific genre, incorporating bits of noise rock and black, sludge, and prog metal into the mix whenever they see fit, but one thing Whatever Forever does do consistently is melt your face off which, in the end, is probably a good thing for the earth.

The Blow's most self-assured, thought-provoking, and exciting music yet.

While some of his eccentricities can seem affected. Perhaps these stumbles are the side effect of an artist dedicated to capturing all the mess of the modern world, and even if there are moments that grate or confound, there's still something invigorating about an artist who refuses to sit still.

With Condon's warm quaver and bevy of brass instruments, acoustic and electric guitars, electronic and acoustic drums, accordion, and mix of pianos, organs, and synthesizers including modular synths gathered under a production ethos that dials up already colorful arrangements to Technicolor spectacle.

Survival's unguarded emotions -- the joy in creating a world in which to thrive, the pain endured along the way -- radiate an honesty that's all the more striking because it's so rare.

Life on Earth increases the anticipation for the artist's second album without diluting what has preceded it.

The bottom line is that this 14th proper album of hers combines nuanced performances and succinct writing like none other.

Something about I Am Jordan feels a bit moderated, because even though it's a fun, celebratory record, it doesn't always hit the ecstatic highs that it's shooting for. Still, even if it isn't chock-full of wall-to-wall bangers, it's certainly an inspired effort that charts Jordan's growth as an artist and as a person.

One-Armed Bandit dazzles early on... Later portions of the album are larded with so many graceless, attention-deficit hazards that it’s unknown exactly what the band (or is that “groop”?) was attempting to accomplish.

Ce is an enjoyable, finely crafted, and elegantly executed album, but at the same time very far from Caetano's best.

By making such a decisive shift in direction, CTE wind up dampening the squalls of White Stripes, Strokes, and Pixies that defined their first decade of records, but that change also emphasizes how the group are at heart pop-pastiche artists, favoring style and sound over a finely honed song.

Allo Darlin' is most reminiscent of these artists' earlier, scrappier efforts, but the sophistication is there, most crucially, in Morris' songs, which strike just the right balance of clever and heartfelt, wittily specific, and broadly relatable.

Vapor Trails does an amiable job of signaling the welcomed return of Rush.

It's music that breathes gently, establishing its own place, and providing a true reward for the listener.

Musically, Hatebreed sticks with the blueprints that they used to build previous outings like Satisfaction is the Death of Desire and Rise of Brutality, but there's an impressive sense of workmanship to Divinity of Purpose that suggests a steady diet of more traditional metal.

For fans, the first disc has plenty of exciting material to offer: it sounds great, the writing is excellent, there are new musical directions, and, as expected, there is terrific playing throughout.

All of which helps to make That's It! a vibrant, engaging work and one of Preservation Hall's best albums.

Even if it's not quite as striking an achievement as WIXIW, it's a lot of fun and shows, once again, that Liars are unquestionably themselves no matter how much they push their boundaries.

There are times when tracks drag slightly, but it's safe to make an assumption that soon there will be a change in style, rhythm, BPM, or dimension, resulting in a complex and magical record with many twists and turns.

While Maritime is its own entity, cuts like driving of "Light You Up" and the sanguine "Drinking Peru" retain a youthful punk energy, albeit one filtered through the prism of a decade's worth of musicianship and hard-won maturity.

While Adventure isn't as raw and uninhibited as some of their past work, it continues the enduring legacy of their peppy garage sound with effortless confidence and nostalgic winks to the past.

ChesnuTT did become a father and famously took several years away from performing to focus on his family. It's that kind of rooted sense of purpose and dedication to the process, whether raising a child or recording a pop album, that permeates and elevates all of My Love Divine Degree.

The best songs on Back Roads and Abandoned Motels are a lovely reminder of what the Jayhawks have been doing so well for over 30 years, and if this album might make one wonder if Gary Louris is running low on songwriting ideas, he still leads a band to be reckoned with.

Figuring out the why of Returns to Valley of Rain is probably fruitless, but if Gelb wants to move forward into the past with Giant Sand, at least he's doing so with style and swagger.

This return to the Amory Wars concept is welcome. Even the few seemingly out of place moments are deliberate diversions to reward longtime fans. That said, in an era of renewed appreciation for prog metal in general, this offering should draw legions of new listeners.

With Empire Central, Snarky Puppy transform the Dallas music and culture that inspired them into a tangible listening experience.

Fans who have developed a taste for the sweet sadness of the Cowboy Junkies' best work may find Such Ferocious Beauty a bit strong and confrontational for their taste, but that's very much the point of this music; this isn't rooted in solace, but in exorcising the demons that come from losing loved ones, and it's a difficult but eloquent act of public mourning.

The shared lightness of touch among the producers suits Walker's uncommonly exquisite and authoritative voice. While she's still going through it, her artistic power remains undiminished.

Lovingly detailed, atmospheric, and oozing the Technicolor glow of a smoke-stained '70s movie screen, Rome is awfully hard not to cheer for, even when it's stuck on autopilot, as rarely do pet projects feel this alive and sumptuous.

Ultimately, with Froot, Diamandis has crafted an arch, swaggeringly impressive album that balances its pop sweetness with a deep-rooted maturity.

It wants terribly to be an important record, but its songs are merely good.

In the end, A$AP Rocky comes off as rap's Jim Morrison, offering an accessible, attractive, and brutish journey into darkness while remaining true to his spirit.

The concept is brilliant and musically the Black Heart Procession have never sounded better.

In the end though, Ladd's too good at producing a realistic commercial rap record; Beauty Party falls prey to the same faults, and the occasionally bland material never rises above its satirical value.

Decadent, theatrical, and magnetic, Alter falters only when the band's ambitions get the better of them, but the album's slight unevenness doesn't prevent it from being tremendously exciting.

It's sporadically entertaining and intermittently interesting.

He's successful even when he is indulging in a little silliness.

The Cure have become journeymen, for better and worse, turning out well-crafted music that's easy to enjoy yet not all that compelling either.

The power of Jane's Addiction is undiminished by Strays (this is still a band creating music unlike any other artist), but the imagination, bravado, and songwriting smarts apparent from previous classics is sadly missing.

The album gains a newfound polish, particularly in the production, but also loses some of the spontaneous energy and wide-ranging influences that characterize the rest of Stereo Total's work.

Like the best in commercial dance, Audio Bullys are excellent, distinctive producers, though their songwriting isn't in the same category.

If you're looking for a wild blues party, Voice of Treason isn't quite it, but if you want to hear musicians who can respect their influences while kicking it out, then the Soledad Brothers are right down your alley.