Rain Crow doesn't blaze many new trails for Tony Joe White, but it leaves no doubt that he's still the king of his own swampy sound, and he's not getting older, he's getting deeper.

The Family isn't a grand statement, but an intimate one. Despite the dark threads that run through it and bind it, this collection is as moving as it is harrowing, as tender as it is tenacious. It's an album Arthur had to make, and as such is completely redemptive.

Unseen may not cheer you up, but it will compel and fascinate anyone with an appetite for great songwriting.

Altogether, the album's palette and Jacklin's cracking, pensive delivery land her in a sphere with heavy-hitters such as Sharon Van Etten and Angel Olsen, with a touch of Lucinda Williams, making it a must for fans of thoughtful indie folk.

Though hushed, lush, and intimate psych-folk may not have been anyone's first choice for where Hanson's path might lead next, The Unborn Capitalist from Limbo is beautiful and strange, and proves to be a trip well worth taking.

While Impressions does seem a little weighed down, it's really a document of their struggle, making their second attempt to leave the runway somewhat relatable; inevitably, it's hard not to root for them as they spread their wings independently.

I'm a Harmony isn't the revelation that Parallelograms was, but it's not a letdown, either; this is the work of an artist whose singular creative viewpoint hasn't dimmed with time. She still has a great deal to say, and those who loved her debut will discover she hasn't lost her touch.

It's chock-full of refreshing, sophisticated ideas, all balanced by an empathic, emphatic inclusiveness that engages the listener at both musical and emotional levels.

Outsiders has a strong foundation but sounds effervescent, a combination that frequently results in giddy, intoxicating pop, which is what this album is.

Instead of distracting, Ribbons' tangents add to its masterful feel--at this point in Wilkinson's career, his music is so rich that he can bring any aspect of it to the fore in ways that feel equally natural and surprising.

The very existence of Jazz Fest: The New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival indicates how the event has become a cultural institution, influencing countless other regional festivals in the decades since while retaining a unique blend of local institution and tourist destination. Smithsonian Folkways remarkably re-creates that appeal with their box set, offering 50 live tracks recorded at the fest over its 50 years, a collection that illustrates how far beyond jazz the festival has grown.

A paranoid set that's nonetheless cathartic and dependably fun.

The collaboration as a whole is a unique treat that shows the best attributes of each of its participants.

While Thirst's generous length means it meanders occasionally, it gives SebastiAn plenty of room to show how much he's grown since the early 2010s. Even if his music has slowed down, it's not standing still.

Rose may tend to nod at the past but she's not a revivalist, she blends these familiar sounds in slyly idiosyncratic, personal ways that give We Still Go to Rodeos a handsome, modern feel that's distinct from other retro-minded Americana records, her previous albums included.

Shelby Lynne is a profound meditation on amorous complexity and cost; it's arguably the most powerful record in the songwriter's catalog.

As wide-ranging as Banana Skin Shoes is, it never feels like Gough is dabbling. The album's sounds are as carefully considered as the motifs of tears, apples and snowy spring days that recur in its lyrics, and the flourishes of brass that pop up throughout feel like triumphant fanfares.

With Devastator, Phantom Planet have crafted an album that deftly undercuts their hooky West Coast optimism with a bitterly cloudy beach bum sadness. You can almost hear the bright pop sound of their youth echoed back through the hazy din of waves returning to shore; California here we come, right back where we started from indeed.

As anything he's ever given us, full of straightforward, cheerfully impassioned rock & roll with some garage rock and psychedelic touches to keep things colorful, coupled with Fair's individual lyrical outlook. Still talking more than he sings, Fair is much better at bringing the listener in than he was in his earlier days, and his tales of favorite horror movies (both real and imagined) have a homey, less obsessive tone that works in their favor.

All too often, this type of record can become bogged down by its own reverence for the period it seeks to re-create, but on Introducing..., Frazer manages to overcome the vintage doldrums with good songwriting and top-notch arrangements.

Road to the Sun showcases Metheny's developed musical hallmarks in compelling new and bravely wrought compositions, expertly performed by kindred spirits and modern masters.

For anyone who hasn't explored the music Joe Strummer made after the Clash, Assembly works well as a compact introduction.

Weller may often be adventurous, particularly during the third act inaugurated with 2008's 22 Dreams, yet he rarely seems as loose and playful as he does here, and that sense of mischief is an unexpected and welcome gift.

Kingdom of Oblivion organically grafts trademark elements from Motorpsycho's previous work and influences onto literally spontaneous musical discoveries. The album is a pillar of 21st century rock, adding dimension and depth to the band's visionary legacy.

Butterfly 3000 is the work of a band with a million ideas and the skills to make them all work like a dream. In this case, a shiny, happy dream that leaves the sleeper feeling refreshed and at peace upon awakening.

His work is full of the messy energy and surprising turns of a life lived hard, and on The Horses and the Hounds, the music speaks as vividly as his excellent songs. Not many artists pushing 60 get to deliver as satisfying a breakthrough as this one.

W is not merely a counterpart to No but its polar opposite -- an album made of moments and atmospheres rather than songs. Nearly spectral in its articulation, this set offers a more elegant, restrained side of Boris than we've ever encountered before.

It's the duo's keenly observed originals that stay with you the longest, delivered with hard-won wisdom, gallows humor, and the near-supernatural fluidity of sisterly harmonies.