There is nothing subtle about 100% Yes. Despite the anger and activism in the lyrics, this set is saturated with the energy of hope.

Keleketla! is a powerful combination of activism and musical exploration, bonding the sounds of several locations and eras in order to express messages of joy, optimism, and revolution.

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.

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 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.

Consistently entertaining with a few flashes of brilliance, Book kicks off the band's fifth decade of music-making with substance and style.

"Teeth Out, Pt. II" is even more purgatorial, proving that Miller and Kuperus don't need beats to sound formidable. It all makes Becoming Undone one of Adult.'s most harrowing albums -- and all the more impressive because of it.

Densely packed with historical references and acute lyrical imagery, Aethiopes requires numerous listens and extensive research to fully comprehend, yet even on cursory listens, the album's scope, detail, and creativity are highly impressive.

Repetition and rumination are frequent throughout Choosing, as Jamieson ultimately makes a message of the album's economical title. While this lends itself to a certain amount of musical stagnancy, some changes of pace unfold along the way in the form of the catchy "Runner," which begins with spare electric guitar and voice but progresses at a tuneful, accelerating gallop.

It's an intelligent, compassionate, heartfelt album from a man who knows how to make them, and we should all be as grateful as Joe Henry that he's around to sing these songs.

It's the band's most dynamic, full-bodied recording to date, and a clear improvement over their somewhat rusty-sounding early releases, moving between lulling spaciousness and cathartic violence.

Star Eaters Delight is less of a uniform statement than Acquainted with Night was, but this collection of versatile songs acts as a tour of different neighborhoods in the beautifully smeary nocturnal dream world Neale began building on her last album.

Baxter Dury deserves to be considered fully free of his father's shadow. Maybe after releasing this subtly brilliant and pleasingly scathing album, he'll finally believe it too.

Hunger for a Way Out was such a strikingly rough diamond that Good Living Is Coming for You couldn't have the same element of surprise, but the refinements Sweeping Promises have made only reinforce how consistent and distinctive their music is -- and how much more it has to offer.

More than just a bright spot in their career, Blood, Hair, and Eyeballs is a beacon of romantic punk defiance.

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.

Without losing any of their crisp, rock-infused edge, they explore a more nuanced sonic atmosphere, even coating Goodwyne's vocals in moody, Imogen Heap-esque vocoder on the title track.

Virtually every element, whether played or programmed, is in service to Parks' sybaritic visions, and they all stimulate movement free from restraint.

The abiding impression left from this album is one of comfort, not despair, which makes Morning Phase distinctly different than its companion Sea Change.

Not only is it their best-sounding album yet, totally alive and raw, but it contains some of the hookiest songs and most thrilling performances of their almost-35-year career in rock & roll.

There's plenty more heavy material to uncover (including a song called "Coma"), though it's all wrapped in a captivating musicality that combines the power of folk storytelling, poetry, and rock angst. In the case of Capacity, it's a quiet power.

By choosing to take on the subject [mental health] head-on, they've crafted an album which is half-noise rock record and half-audio representation of Kiely's mind. While it may be a struggle to listen to for anyone caught unaware, it's that same struggle that makes their output so captivating as an experience.

If the game needed Illmatic, this is the one Nas needed to get out of his system, acting as a clearing house for all venom and bile, plus some gloss that doesn't fit but needed to go as well.

It's easily the most accomplished work yet from the mighty S U R V I V E, who tower over the majority of other synth-wave revivalists.

While Picaresque follows its predecessor's -- the treacly Her Majesty -- predilection for seafaring and mythology, its boot-covered feet are more firmly planted in the present, resulting in the group's most accessible -- and decidedly upbeat -- product to date.

Listeners willing to approach The Ruby Cord on its own terms will be treated to a remarkable, thoughtful, and emotionally literate cycle of songs that ranks with his most rewarding work.

If there's a knock against Take Me to the Alley, it's that it feels a bit long. Editing out two or three tunes would have heightened its impact. That Porter doesn't break new ground here isn't a big deal; he doesn't need to.

As good as each of these songs is individually--and there isn't a bad song in the bunch--what's best about From a Room, Vol. 1 is how it holds together. There's no grand concept here: it's just a collection of good tunes, delivered simply and soulfully, and that's more than enough.