In some ways, Evangelic Girl Is a Gun doesn't feel quite as personal as yeule's previous albums -- the lyrics don't always delve into specific subjects such as dissatisfaction with their own body -- and its sound feels a bit more comfortably retro compared to the dystopian future shock of the previous two albums. That said, it's easily some of their most accessible work, and one of the most potent distillations of their chaotic yet introspective songwriting style.

With its comparatively restrained approach only reasserting Carlile's gifts as a confident, compassionate, and sympathetic communicator, Returning to Myself offers an equally compelling edition of the musician that may appeal to new, less country-inclined fans.

As a culmination of everything she's been building toward in the years since I Disagree, Empty Hands is a towering success, priming Poppy for the arena big leagues with her twisted and wildly engrossing style.

On Carter Girl, Carlene Carter has confronted the mighty legacy of the Carter Family's songbook and allowed it to strengthen her music rather than buckling under its weight, and this ranks with her finest recorded work to date.

The album's not faultless: as with Deerhunter, Cox has the tendency to try too hard to be profound, wanting so badly to say something important that he sounds trite and forced, and untrustworthy, but when he's able to forget about conveying some kind of meaning and instead focuses on the actual music, his message--one of pain and love and feeling lost, of trying desperately to understand--is undeniable.

11:11 reveals a true musical and sonic expansion without Rodrigo y Gabriela losing sight of their strength as an acoustic duo. Awesome.

Thankfully, Grande has the chops to pull it off, and Yours Truly makes the most of her talent.

The Armed get down to business, delivering a volley of potent noise-punk rockers ("FKA World," "Clone," "Everything's Glitter") that temper their myriad technical complexities with sugary, boot-stomping melodies.

Less Than Human might not be what a lot of people expected, but it fits its format as well as any hard-hitting two-track single, and it's a lot more functional than most other albums made by dance artists.

There's so much good chemistry and a sense of purpose on Bad Neighbor that it's easy to see why this crew reunited, and while this is a loose posse effort and not the artistically weighty material fans usually get from the members individually, both MED and Blu's discographies get one their tightest releases to date.

Their love of shoegaze and loud/quiet '90s guitar rock is unadulterated and it translates into the songs and the sound, making it a pure and easy-to-love album for all those who have ever been fans themselves.

Their second album, Further Out, finds them honing the rough ideas that were forming on their 2013 debut, Infinity.

Excellent work from both artists.

It may lack some of the bite of his best work with his previous project Ovens and his early solo releases, but it's nice to follow his career as he grows and experiments (gently) with new sounds and a new-ish approach, while still delivering songs that are super-hooky and flat-out nice to listen to.

Though 14 years passed between this album and her last fully solo outing, it sounds as if it were conceived fully formed, unaware of time or trends. Instead, There Is No Other... perfectly suspends the smiling mood of a hushed evening, embodying the fading warmth of the day's last sunlight.

Little about Embryonic is clear-cut or straightforward -- these noisy, pensive, sometimes meandering songs take awhile to decipher and often feel like they're still in the process of becoming. These very qualities, however, make these songs some of the Flaming Lips most haunting and intriguing music in some time.

DeMarco is still a befuddling character, but the compressed landscape of 2 takes steps away from his cartoonish beginnings toward something equally strange, but possibly more grown up.

My Name Is My Name is a remarkable and vital solo debut.

The Glowing Man seems sadder, gloomier, and more disturbing than the more hopeful To Be Kind, but the band have always embraced many positive and negative elements in their work, and they all add up to an extremely powerful expression of nearly every human emotion.

Minimal, yet brimming over with emotions both bright and dulled by pain and loss, the 15-track set is a marvel of restraint and refinement, with Rachel and Becky Unthank's otherworldly voices accompanied only by piano and violin.

A winning combination of his long-standing and more recently developed gifts, This Is How You Smile is a culmination of Helado Negro's work and completely relevant to when it was released.

The unpolished feel of Agora is a bit striking for a Fennesz release, but it's clearly just as carefully considered as his other albums, and makes a welcome addition to his catalog.

Only on a couple occasions does Bridges let loose a touch while in the moment. ... Even in those moments, there is never an indication that Bridges could possibly lose his composure. The unswerving self-control he has demonstrated across three albums both impresses and mystifies.

Jungle are at their most elevated throughout Loving in Stereo, in terms of both creativity and the general tone of the album. The songs are exploratory and fun, exuding energy and positivity and resulting in some of the group's best work to date.

The way these splashes of color and invention intertwine with the carefully sculpted ballads result in a testament to Gallagher's enduring craft that's unusually satisfying.

While each track on Cyrk brings to mind somebody else (Velvet Underground, "Genesis Hall"-era Fairport Convention, Comus, Spacemen 3), Le Bon somehow manages to make it all feel surprising natural.

As fun as all of this is (and the lip-smack glam of "Music Is the Victim" is very, very fun), the Sisters' revisionism can also get them in trouble.

Carlile still prefers sobriety to levity but it never feels affected; it's music that gets under your skin and cuts to the bone.