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.

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.

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.

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

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

The later discs reflect the relative comfort Dylan and the Band performed with, leading to a more polished joint effort. That said, there's plenty of rawness here, but the chaos on the early discs is missed. The 1974 Live Recordings will only appeal to Dylan completists and historians. The music is entirely (and wonderfully) remixed.

Throughout, Eisenberg defies the concept of following a single path, instead finding a way to arrange it all so deftly that every disparate sound and conflicting idea becomes a passenger on the same vessel.

It may not be Wasser's most cohesive album, but Lemons, Limes, and Orchids' discrete vignettes might convey life's multitudes better than any of her prior music. Without question, it reaffirms that for Joan As Police Woman, sincerity and creativity are better together.

The result is near prefect psychedelic pop that puts the half baked efforts of most of their contemporaries to shame.

By the time the finer details of closing track "The Diver" sink in (subsonic noise synth frequencies, muted and hypnotic drums, underwater guitar harmonics, and controlled muttering vocals), it's time to play the entire record over again and sit for another cycle in the beautiful, otherworldly loneliness it creates.

Moody it is. Having said that, it's singer and songwriter Anouska Sokolow's engaging, spoke-sung recitations that are the focus and defining component of Real Deal, which gets off to a proggy start with "Hide."

Top to bottom, this is a coveted no-skips effort, elevated by the fun, liberated approach that helps the listener escape reality and push the limits like the characters in the film.

It's still a privilege to hear another album from SOPHIE, and if this album is only creative and engaging instead of revolutionary, it doesn't diminish her legacy -- it just reinforces how irreplaceable she is.

Dance, No One's Watching is an ambitious step forward from Where I'm Meant to Be, and a musical extension of its creativity. In all, it proves Ezra Collective's prize-winning debut was no fluke.

It's an active, engaging album from an artist whose travels ultimately brought her more knowledge of herself.

Much like his longtime collaborator Four Tet, Snaith has fully entered his festival dance era, making some of his most outwardly expressive music by injecting his own personality and emotions into superbly crafted club tracks.

As with all of the band's work, this album is inspiring and life-affirming.

It has a rustic elegance stabilized by workmanlike drums and lively acoustic guitars.

Highway Prayers is too long -- there is a fantastic 40-minute album in there -- but it's also a lot of fun, and it may take a young superstar like Strings to bend and stretch bluegrass enough to deliver it to the masses.

These six discs certainly illuminate the studio albums they appear on, but their evolutionary processes in studio and on-stage make this set an essential companion to the previous volume.

Susman and Simms definitely have an assured career in soundtracks, and judging by Memorial Waterslides, they will have a long run as one of the most impressive practitioners of the cinema psych genre.

With A Modern Day Distraction, Bugg further establishes his reputation as a modern-day British rock troubadour.

There's more than enough gas left in Goat's tank to keep them riding in style for years to come.

It may not match See Through You's consistent brilliance, but at its best, Synthesizer delivers the noise for which A Place to Bury Strangers is known and quite a bit more.

The invigorated No Obligation is a breath of fresh air, a reminder that punk can be fun and pure without losing its impact or message. The Linda Lindas give us all hope that the kids will be alright.

Much more than a victory lap, brat and it's completely different but also still brat enriches the Brat listening experience and the understanding of Charli xcx's artistry.

Fate & Alcohol is the kind of album that gets into your bloodstream and lingers, ever so slightly shifting the way you see the world and your place in it. If it really is the end for Japandroids, it's a farewell that feels like it could go on forever.

A bold and bruising nine-song set befitting an architect of grunge and alternative hard rock.

She uses these songs as a statement of intent, pushing beyond the limitations of the interchangeable rap star persona to show her creative depth, and constructing an album environment where she's able to seamlessly transition between dominating the party and opening up about vulnerabilities.

Ultimately, Bleed is the Necks' most formless, abstract, and focused album, one that that points toward a brave new direction.

The resulting Clouds in the Sky They Will Always Be There for Me finds Porridge Radio still recognizably visceral and volatile but also a little wearier and occasionally resigned, as on the eerie, semi-rambling "In a Dream I'm a Painting" and on penultimate track "Pieces of Heaven."

Free Energy sounds like the work of a band tapping into the well of creativity at its source and coming up with a work that gently and gracefully slides the group up one notch closer to their heroes.

Dance of Love feels like a chapter, not an extension, and that's what makes it such a fresh and enjoyable listen.

Machines I-V is the Bug in pure club damage mode, and it's as heady and powerful as anything else he's done.

Fun, naughty, and a little nasty, 3AM stretches the typical party-friendly novelty sound that Confidence Man perfected on their first two albums, showcasing artistic growth with a laser-focused intent to keep your body moving late into the night, when it feels like anything can (and will) happen.

Cartoon Darkness is a sweaty, visceral thrill, apt for aggressive revelry, driving too fast, and scrapping for the fun of it. It's not a very friendly listen, but that's not the point: confrontational and cathartic, it's existential bloodletting with a warrior's fury and a shredded throat.

The result is a frantic, jarring, and unpredictable effort which darts from breakbeat-fueled mayhem to noisy droning, all framing Elucid's persistent lyrics about caring for his family, struggling for survival and success inside a racist system, and maintaining hope.

Mining her musical upbringing and honoring her myriad inspirations, Halsey comes full circle, connecting her own youth and innocence with intimate adult ruminations on parenthood, aging, and legacy. It's an engrossing homage to the figures that made her into the artist -- and inspiration -- that she has become herself.

Chromakopia is less of a cohesive statement than Tyler's fans are used to hearing; it's erratic and candid at once, a strange pressure cooker of boasts and doubts that falls out of step with its deftly sequenced and thematically tight predecessors. But these are the sounds at the precipice of change -- perhaps it's fitting that Tyler can't quite package himself as neatly this time around.

With Planet Nowhere, Razorlight have made an album of catchy, no-nonsense anthems that capture the fizzy, garage-rock swagger of their best work.

This is the album Lone Justice should have been allowed to make in 1983, and in 2024 it remains music full of heart, soul, and passion. It was worth the wait.

It's fine work from a great songwriter who is following his passions while he can, and that makes it special.

With Last Leaf on the Tree, Willie Nelson and Micah have crafted a relaxed album of subtle virtuosity, as if every song could be the last.

A triumphant live album, Resuscitate! is as much a celebration of the evolution of Callahan's music as it is the shared experience between musicians and audience.

Much like on her debut, every song here offers its own treasures, and Heynderickx still sounds like no one else.

The Crying Out of Things is a powerful high point in the Body's massive discography.

On Nite Owls, he manages to pull all of these varied experiences and influences together in a cohesive way that's unmistakably his own.

Her longest LP to date, it's also one of her most satisfying, engaging, and exciting. No matter which direction she chooses, Poppy has yet to disappoint.

She's clearly having fun, making the music she wants to make and exploring new facets of her craft. Hopeful, romantic, and energetic, Armatrading offers a strong dose of joy in troubled times.

The Way Out of Easy equals its predecessor, but it also extends the quartet's musical vocabulary and sonic identity. While they may not be able to play ETA any longer, their musical signature and group communication prove they can make magic anywhere.

It's a lavish, well-considered and executed set that makes for quite the splurge for a Beatles fan with a nice phonograph set.

Live in Keele 1977 is one of the better entries in the Can live series, proving that their on-stage power was still in full effect, even as they were approaching the end of their run.

Though all of the players were experienced professionals on-stage at this point, the collective energy that they created together was still relatively new, and Live at Fillmore East, 1969 offers an unvarnished view of that very specific excitement, along with the humanizing jitters and joviality that came along with it.

Fever Longing Still leaves no doubt that he hasn't lost his touch, and it's a treat for anyone who has ever loved his work -- or even for folks who've never heard him before.

Vicious Creature is a wilder ride than might be expected -- at times, it feels like these songs have been pent up inside Mayberry for years -- but it's great to hear her own her music so fully.

If there's one thing that's evident while listening to the refreshing, back-to-basics craftsmanship of Oh Brother, it's that the Goldsmith brothers clearly know what they and Dawes are all about.

In the Real World displays all of Bibb's gifts on a single album as a lyricist, guitarist, blues stylist, music historian, and contemporary singer/songwriter. At once poignant and hopeful, Bibb has upped his own creative ante here.

Like much of Fennesz's solo work from Endless Summer onward, Mosaic is a vast, immersive effort that bases its abstract soundscapes in raw emotions.

Trees Speak's curious world keeps expanding with every successive release, and TimeFold is just as fascinating as the rest of their discography.

Lambrini Girls keep the levels of earned outrage cranked up high and apologies at near zero while continuing to take on topics like gender inequity, political and cultural atrocities, and bad behavior in general on their full-length and City Slang debut, Who Let the Dogs Out.

While in some ways more streamlined than their harsher early singles, British Murder Boys' debut album manages to be heavier and wilder in its own way.

The result has a warm, organic feel that meshes comfortably with Ringo's country influences without forcing the issue or sounding like the typical Nashville product of the 2020s. This music is mature in feel and outlook, in the best ways.

Humanhood finds Lindeman in the middle of the mysterious, sacred process of returning to herself, and while the album may not offer many answers, its rare honesty, eloquence, and compassion make it another triumph for the Weather Station.

There's a strong mood setting vibe on Motion I, one that finds Out Of/Into drawing upon Blue Note's past while pushing toward the future.

Héritage sounds unlike any other Songhoy Blues release, and it's every bit as skillfully crafted and powerful.

It might be a smaller-scale album than As the Love Continues, but The Bad Fire is the sound of a band that's still making vital music 30 years after they formed.

Balloonerism isn’t Miller’s best, most consistent, or even most experimental work, but it offers a previously unseen chapter in his evolution as an artist and shows clear pathways to what followed.

In Love Again is a buzzy indie pop delight, full of surprises that pay off handsomely.

DÍA is the work of an artist who isn't looking back. With these cathartic, expansive, resilient songs, Ela Minus is just becoming more expressive -- or as she puts it, "I'll keep writing melodies to sing."

Amidon may have outdone himself when it comes to Salt River's ability to be at once trippy, bucolic, sophisticated, and simple, like a dream about a folksong.

On the first few spins, the songs and ideas here don't seem to stray terribly far from the path worn by previous Rose City Band albums, but the heightened production and detours into previously untraveled styles all slowly contribute to this chapter being both a continuation and a gentle expansion of Johnson's warped, beautiful, and ongoing vision of space-age country music.

Was anyone asking Lilly Hiatt to make a 1990s alternative album? No, and that's part of why Forever works so well -- here, she's just doing what feels right in the moment, and it sounds every bit as right to the listener.

[Producer Nick] Hakim has a thing for vintage-sounding mechanical rhythms, and the spare and effective way they're utilized helps lend sonic continuity between Chacon's 2020 and 2023 albums. The key throughline, of course, is the sound of Chacon's voice -- an instrument that pacifies no matter the states of uncertainty and distress the purposeful lyrics indicate.

Squid are still in the early part of their career, but with each record, they've shown a remarkable adaptability and willingness to change, without losing what makes them special.

Tucked into these strange, loose songs are bits of enduring architecture, interesting philosophies, and the transcendent melodies that have been his bailiwick since the '80s. Of Cope's latter-day records, Friar Tuck is a triumph.

It results in a wildly mixed bag where the listener has to actively engage to keep up, and the constant unexpected gear shifting makes for one of the more fun and happily confounding GbV sets of their post-reunion output.

Apple Cores is a stellar tribute to Lewis' inspirations; his band pulls it off without seams or dead ends. This music is a signpost in jazz's evolution; it intersects past, present, and future.

As with FACS' previous incarnations, how their songs come together -- or fall apart -- is still enthralling, and Wish Defense only enhances their reputation for crafting some of the most exciting experimental rock of their time.

Those willing to meet End of the Middle on its own terms will find a powerfully moving work that turns kitchen-sink realism into something uniquely profound. There's no one who does what Richard Dawson does quite the way he does it, and we should all be glad he shares this gift with us.

Far from drab or sentimental, the results are often bright, robust, and admiring.

If Delaware wasn't shoegaze enough for purists, 1991 certainly is. Far from being rough sketches, these demos are full-fledged songs with all the hallmarks of shoegaze 1.0, albeit with an endearingly hissy sound quality that only enhances their nostalgia.

It isn't quite the unexpected triumph that Heat Lightning Rumbles in the Distance was, but it confirms Patterson Hood is capable of more than he's created with the Drive-By Truckers, great as they are, and it's a pleasure to hear him challenge himself with such impressive results.

Sinister Grift is a significant chapter in the Panda Bear story if only for how it finds Lennox shedding some of the stubborn uneasiness that’s so long been part of his music. While still mainly the product of a solitary mind, the album is perhaps the least lonely Panda Bear has sounded to date.

These may be the same songs in the same sequence as Funeral for Justice, but they have the character of an entirely different album, and that's a tough feat to pull off.

The essence that Bell distills on Pinball Wanderer is one of happy exploration, indeed wandering from one creative idea to the next with very little second guessing or restraint. If there are any unfinished thoughts or untidy loose ends in that approach, they’re easily outshined by the feeling of radiant joy that carries the album.

By the time Luminescent Creatures closes on the wind-sampling "惑星の泪 (Wakusei no Namida)" ("Tears of the Planet") -- a fingerpicked guitar song that refers to dreams, the birth of a story, and "a melody of a million light years" -- listeners will likely have felt transported to another world.

The sleek, dramatic title track sets the stage with a lush, grooving indie rock bolstered by shimmery synths, textured guitar effects, and a somewhat oversaturated sound that permeates and distinguishes the album.

Russell converts extemporaneous dialogue from the participants into collage-like pieces across the LP. Other thematically relevant choices for samples and interpolations -- including songs by Shawn Smith, Jackson C. Frank, and Molly Drake, all of whom are deceased -- add even more emotional resonance. Melody is foregrounded by a cross-generational ensemble of 18 featured voices and winds players.

It may not be an instant classic, but it's still clear that no one can do it like Gaga.

Jason Isbell is a singer and songwriter who is never afraid to do the work to make his music something special, and even when he's performing in stripped-down fashion, he delivers great songs and the commitment to make them special. Anyone who questions that hasn't heard Foxes in the Snow.

Channeling technological paranoia, City of Clowns contains some of Davidson's most futuristic work yet, as well as some of her most commanding and personality-driven.

The craft of Here We Go Crazy is superb, and Bob Mould is one of the very, very few musicians who came up in the 1980s hardcore scene and is still making powerful, relevant music in the 2020s. However, if he wanted to make an album that reflects the chaos of the culture that witnessed its creation, he may have hit the bullseye just a bit too close to the center.

New Dawn is a powerful work from a celebrated artist who has never stopped exploring new territory.

The steps forward on Cotton Crown are subtle but undeniable, with the Tubs' vision growing clearer through these increasingly enjoyable and well-crafted songs.

Consisting of skillful (mostly) first-person character sketches, the songs seem like intimate Stratton remembrances until the settings crystallize.

Seamless yet challenging, All Worlds should appeal to Lust for Youth's more open-minded fans, but the new vistas it opens for the band are what make it exciting.

Dead Channel Sky is clipping. at their most techno-shocked, reconnecting with the nexus of hip-hop and sci-fi fused by pioneers like Afrika Bambaataa in the early '80s.

Nation Shall Speak Unto Nation stands with Edwyn's best work.