Chaotic roll-out notwithstanding, the album is sure-footed and attests to the artist's high standing among the crowd mining pre-disco R&B, jazz, and pop. Celeste and her fellow songwriters and producers -- led by main collaborators Jamie Hartman and Josh Crocker -- have all the knowing, tasteful moves down pat and exhibit some tricks of their own.

Cave-In have crafted a dense (over 70-minutes long) and rewarding work that's both mindful of the past and focused on the horizon.

They expanded upon their crate-digging aesthetic, blending disco, funk, new wave, and hip-hop sounds into their own hooky, dance-ready aesthetic. Volcano is no exception and finds the duo moving through the late '80s house grooves of "Holding On," the '70s soul of "Dominoes," and clubby tropicalia of "Every Night."

What gives it resonance is that the album's bones are constructed from the same elements that have made him one of the most interesting singer/songwriters of the punk generation: he's toned down his snarl and cynicism, retaining a D.I.Y. spirit while also honing his powers of observation. All of these come into play in surprising, inventive ways on Leisureland, making it one of his most distinctive records.

This sprawling, cumbersome, and often psychedelic effort feels like a glorious clearing house for the diverse and deep rapper, offering giant, cinematic, and challenging efforts.

Though the songs here would have fit in with the best of their earlier phases, they manage to inject deeper subtleties and emotional crosscurrents than even their best work from the '90s without getting too soft in the process.

Along with her pop hooks, what makes Straus' music so indelible on Cheap Queen is her strong sense of self. As King Princess, Straus is both the chilled-out R&B loverman and genderqueer lesbian songwriter, a tangible combination that's anything but cheap, and always real.

Heaux Tales doesn't have the heft of Fearless, Love Me Back, or Reality Show, but few contemporary R&B LPs twice its length are as substantive.

The trio were always capable of more than mere spaced-out jams, but these four tracks organize all the bliss, curiosity, darkness, and contemplation Bitchin Bajas have shown in the past into something deeply considered and perfectly designed.

The Weight of These Wings isn't produced like a country-pop album, so it demands attention and rewards close listening. It is by no means tight, but its excess is also its asset because immersion reveals different pleasures with every spin.

Both fierce and fragile, Hiss Spun presents an artist in compelling control of the entire scope of her expression.

This is Crowell at his best: focused, balanced, clever, at times profound. It's a welcome return to form.

Sadier's wish to equalize personal and economic relationships feels even more noble given the political climate in which the album was released, and Find Me Finding You is some of the warmest-sounding music yet from an unfailingly idealistic artist.

Cherry's songs here are deeply meditative, often implying or directly expressing sorrow regarding planetary afflictions rooted in fear.

Some tracks work better than others, but the album ends on an impressive note with the open, ringing distortion of "Or Head On."

The majority of the album places Actress closer to the superbly creative, evocative, and mind-altering terrain inhabited by Oneohtrix Point Never, with detectable traces of early-'80s Roedelius and Moebius, as well as Autechre.

Her calm, hushed, clear singing only emphasizes the emotional torment the songs trace. The result is an album on a par with her best work.

At its best, though, this album is like having a beautiful girl hit you repeatedly over the head with a baseball bat.

One of the best rap LPs of the year.

Ultimately, Young Enough outshines a promising debut, delivering a steady mix of summery earworms and angst.

Memory isn't just their best record, it makes good on all the promise they displayed early on and will hopefully shut their critics up once and for all.

All this adds up to an album well-suited for moments of introspection, moments when a listener is searching for sustenance and reassurance somewhere outside of themselves.

With a title partly inspired by a surrealist collage by Eileen Agar and partly by the Biblical Jacob's Ladder, it was produced by Tom Carmichael, Porridge Radio drummer Sam Yardley, and singer and songwriter Dana Margolin, who continues to evoke artists like Sarah Mary Chadwick and Torres here with her raw and passionate vulnerability.

Spellling & the Mystery School demonstrates how some of Cabral's best songs have taken on lives of their own since they were first written.

Born of D.I.Y. punk culture, Waxahatchee's fuzzy, introspective pop stands out due to the fearless honesty of the songs, and Crutchfield's refusal to dumb down her emotional currents or underestimate her audience. Ivy Tripp is another excellent and remarkably bold chapter of this exciting, unflinching sound.

All the strings and brass not only accentuate the songs, highlighting the jazzy changes of "Soul Searchers" or the light swing of "Gravity," they help frame this measured song cycle, directing attention to how Weller isn't wallowing, he's meditating upon love, loss, and hope as he enters his sixties.

Jumping from dusty folk to booming R&B might feel jarring, but Webster's versatile personality is the core of Atlanta Millionaires Club, and the entire album flows through its changes as naturally and pleasantly as a cool breeze in the depths of summer.