The band is at the top of their game and the songs all sound great, but more importantly, the messages they're expressing have never been more relevant.

Can't Lose My (Soul) is a shining addition to the Caldwells' legacy and fits beside gospel-soul comps like Overdose of the Holy Ghost, Divine Disco, and Divine Funk.

Tyler's music has always been a patchwork of ever-increasing palettes, and CMIYGL is his most complex to date. Recurring tricks are masterfully melded into new templates.

There are no frills here but there is a distinct, compelling voice evident in Barnett's songs and music alike.

In short, RTJ3 is near perfect in its execution. They're so good at this that it seems almost unfair in its effortlessness.

Significantly less danceable than some of the artist's other albums, the album simultaneously feels more introverted and more expansive.

A daring balance of vulnerability and creative might, Anything Can't Happen is a striking debut.

Most longtime fans will be astonished by von Hausswolff's masterful developmental achievement, as well as the emotional and spiritual power, poetics, and musicality of Iconoclasts. For newcomers, this album presents a near perfect, accessible entry into her recordings.

It continues the deepening specificity of Le Bon’s creative personality, with these songs representing the next notch of all of her various and unlikely components gelling into something that’s simply hers alone.

Choosing from a wide variety of Waits' material, Hammond infuses these unusual tracks with a bluesman's spirit and a crackling energy that practically reinvents the songs, instilling them with an ominous, rhythmic swampy feel.

His tracks are vibrant and imaginative, calling on fuzzed-out guitar solos and summer-day vocals that recall a raft of solid shoegazers.

The allegories and metaphors of her previous work are replaced with direct, vulnerable lyrics, and the album's production polishes the songs instead of obscuring them in noise or studio tricks.

Post- is actually a pretty wild ride. ... Perhaps surprisingly so, Post- is also one of his most accessible solo outings yet.

All the songs may be good, but they're given life by a group that has been broken in by endless dates on the road, a difference that helps turn Weiner's best set of songs into Low Cut Connie's best album.

Previously, Tumor has stated that they want to make songs listeners need to play. They more than achieve that on Heaven to a Tortured Mind, an album that suggests the easiest way to define Tumor is as an artist who consistently outdoes themself.

Patty Griffin is a remarkable portrait of the artist and the experiences that informed these songs, and even by the high standards of her body of work, it's something special and is a potent reminder of her status as one of America's signature singer/songwriters.

Headier and more reflective than that 2018 release yet laced with some drums with churn and bump beneath Gibbs' double-time wit, it reinforces the reputations of both artists in the hip-hop underworld.

Both as a listening and reading experience, the entire collection is fascinating and eye-opening, and far more than just pleasant, unassuming musical wallpaper. It's also somewhat overwhelming in a sense, simply because there's far more music from this era to discover, and this release barely scratches the surface.

This record plays like his shot for glory, and with tracks as hooky and well-constructed as "Mockingjay" or the title track, there's no reason he shouldn't hit the big time.

Rather than offering something for everyone, Big Time wrangles complex, overwhelming emotions with a broad palette that's commanded by its lyrics and tormented vocal performances.

No surprises in terms of material, but the presentation is exquisite, sounding familiar and fresh, a stunning re-presentation of records that were teetering on the edge of over-familiarity.

Like a lot of career overviews, this is somewhere between an introduction and a collector's item, but it initially retailed for the price of a single disc and holds an edge over the marginally less expensive A Collection.

Party Intellectuals may have set the bar high, but Your Turn is definitely a worthy follow-up.

By entering the mainstream one limb (album) at a time, Bring Me the Horizon are merely reaping what they've sown, and longtime fans should already feel acclimated to the water.

Neither his music nor lyrics follow shopworn blues changes, but that's why they feel so vital: far from resting on clichés, Taylor recasts the blues and the history of Black America on Fantasizing About Being Black in a way that speaks to a new century, and the results are bracing.

What follows is one of Ritter's loosest and most rewarding outings to date, delivering a steady stream of compelling characters caught between bravado and vulnerability, constantly trying to find their emotional footing.

Ancestral Recall is a stylistically and culturally dynamic album borne out of Scott's deep awareness of his New Orleans roots and African American history, and his ability to push his forward-thinking post-bop skills into musical traditions far beyond jazz. However, the real revelation is that the album also manages to feel intensely personal, imbued throughout with a deep sensuality and romantic creative vision that feels distinctly his own.

If Prince intended these songs to be released under his own name, they'd be given richer, bolder arrangements and his singing would've been sharper, but he meant these as guides toward a finished product. Keeping that caveat in mind, this is an enlightening and illuminating listen.