As an artist of uncommon ability, he has learned from its hallowed lineage and storied past that in order for it to evolve, it cannot be reined in; it must be free to roam in order to create its future. His visionary work on this album opens the gate wide on that frontier.

What's particularly compelling about Nérija's take on cross-pollinated jazz is that it never sounds like they are trying to imitate one particular sound or era. Instead, they offer a set of contemporary tracks that feel connected to their diverse London-roots.

Ode to Joy reveals that after their sabbatical, Wilco are more than willing to explore the boundaries of their music, and they do so with the confidence and sense of daring that has marked their best work from Being There onward.

Though it's often a slower burn than Who the Power, Internal Working Model reaffirms Moss is an artist with something to say and a distinctive way of saying it.

The sprawl of motion, texture, and color is reined in by immense, emotive lyricism and dynamic group interplay, making this musical "letter" to his vanishing nation well worth repeated listening.

An album that's a noisy, abrasive joy from front to back.

Even if it's not as cohesive as their two previous albums, it's some of their best (and certainly most ambitious) work.

Overall, The Animal Spirits feels very organic, brought about by the spontaneity of the performances, the brief window of time in which it was recorded, and Holden's own evolutionary arc. It also offers a glimpse into the deeper corners of his psyche, peeling back another layer to reveal just how colorful his imagination can be.

He's as present and raw beneath the computer voice as he's ever been, but with these darkroom synth tracks, Sparhawk makes his audience work a little harder to locate him.

With Sentenced to Life, Black Breath have crafted a no-nonsense slab of modern hardcore that draws from a diverse set of rules, but yields to none of them.

Even though A Place to Bury Strangers have been bringing the noise back to shoegaze and post-punk for years, they're still finding new forms of expression. That they can create a career peak like See Through You two decades after forming makes them all the more inspiring.

The resulting songs easily clear the bar for earnest expressions of affection, going into awkward, getting-to-know-you encounters, breakups, fears, and those small, secret moments when one's love grows stronger.

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

A deceptively artful examination of, and expression of, depression.

Near perfect and a step forward as well, Barbara Barbara, We Face a Shining Future belongs on Underworld's top shelf.

Like with any of Haggard's great albums, much of the pleasure lies in the details, whether it's the sly lyrical turns of phrase in his writing or in the suppleness of his performance, things I Am What I Am has in spades.

It's a fine starting point for someone looking to discover Smith, but even if you have all his albums, it serves as a greatest-hits collection of sorts and only confirms just how awful not having him here truly is.

But if 12 Songs does occasionally come across as slightly affected in its intent and presentation, it also is inarguably Neil Diamond's best set of songs in a long, long time.

Here and throughout Masculin Feminin, Blonde Redhead's sense of melody and drama sets them apart, especially on La Mia Vita Violenta.

The stark and brutally frank "I Don't Want Children" impresses with its sonic intimacy, as does the mercurial "Sundog," one of a few selections that utilizes the sounds of the remote location's flora and fauna--wind through the trees, birds chirping, and dogs barking in the distance--lending the proceedings a bucolic, almost Terrence Malick-ian vibe, and adding even more mystery to what is truly a singular piece of work.

New Magic is a different animal than Son Little [the self-titled], but both albums are products of a strikingly gifted artist, and listeners who want to hear a smart and passionate musician take R&B into new, thoughtful places owe it to themselves to give New Magic a careful listen.

Oh My God struggles to balance the austere with the earthly and would have been a better record with about four or five fewer songs. Still, though, it comes close to its ambitious goals of double-album greatness and the highlights represent some of Morby's most focused and wizened work yet.

These are songs that make you want to roll the windows down, light up a smoke, and pound the dashboard in agreement.

While tracks like the fractured, jarring "Sidestep Summer" are as uneasy as Blumberg's previous two records, On&On is ultimately much more hopeful, if not quite inviting or accessible.

This gift for distilling complex emotions into relatable songs is just as vital to Beabadoobee's music as her rapidly evolving sound, and both shine on Fake It Flowers.

Not many groups sound more mysterious four albums into their career than when they began, but these shifting, shadowy visions suggest Vanishing Twin have more tricks up their collective sleeve.

This is some of Saint Vincent's most complicated music, but its fearless creativity rewards repeated listening, as Clark has few rivals when it comes to seducing ears and challenging minds at the same time.

Dark in tone and intimate in presentation, The Trackless Woods is unique in DeMent's catalog.