Hair represents the best possible outcome of the collaborative record.

If The Collective was punishing in its density, Play Me is its equal and opposite: leaner and more melodic without sacrificing invention. It's an album that reaffirms Gordon still knows how, and why, to push forward.

The stories are told over attractive folk/country/rock arrangements, which to some extent ameliorate the gloom.

If this is not the most live-sounding dance album made with synthetic instrumentation, it must be pretty close.

Quarantine is the addictive soundtrack to some kind of science fiction nightmare.

Brilliant Sanity's musings on uncertainty are some of their most confident songs yet.

Taken together, for its somewhat lofty inspirations and complex construction, Onism is above all a fun listen, full of discovery, whimsy, and musicality. And it's got a good beat.

New Path is perhaps the most challenging release yet from the already confrontational duo, and while it's not as accessible as Demain, it's still rewarding and often exciting.

She Remembers Everything is a challenging and rewarding set from an artist who is at the peak of her abilities, and if anyone needs to be reminded that Rosanne Cash is one of America's best and smartest songwriters, all they need to do is spend some time with these songs.

Human Question is the work of a powerfully good trio who've made it clear they are no ordinary roots rock outfit.

Native Sons is a tribute that manages to be more than a set of covers -- it shows what the band learned from these songs, as well as showing us where their long musical journey has taken them. It's essential listening from one of America's greatest bands.

If Smoke & Fiction proves to be X's final musical statement, they go out as they came in – unique, ferociously talented, and with plenty to say that's worth hearing, and they've stayed that way as the curtain falls.

More expansive than "Friend Opportunity," not quite as sprawling as "The Runners Four," Offend Maggie is among Deerhoof's most balanced albums.

They play Southern soul-rock in an era where the past is indistinguishable from the present, and how the band interlaces the old and the new on Sound & Color feels startlingly fresh.

Manafon is a quiet yet forceful stunner, a recording that, if heard, is literally unforgettable.

The ten-percent of the album that isn't a sparkling slow jam or midtempo cut is a swift and uplifting jam that approximates a super session with Dâm-Funk, the-Dream, and 1984 Prince. It leads off--both a sly fake-out and a hell of a way to open one of 2015's most pleasurable debuts.

From top to bottom, Lacy's strums scratch an itch with a tinge of abrasiveness. Keyboards supplied throughout by sensitive and unobtrusive players John Carroll Kirby and Ely Rise, background harmonies from a quartet of women (including Lacy's sisters), and occasional production help from DJ Dahi and the Internet's Matt Martians all enhance Lacy's sound without complicating it.

Grey's voice is much grittier live than on records, it is a catalyst for the band to build upon and they do so whenever presented with the opportunity.

With a sound that tends to drift between the discordant jangle of the Pixies and the powerful sonic gut-punch of the Melvins, the trio weave together a dense tapestry of moody noise rock that seems to constantly shift and change directions.

As demanding as it is, the story and music are worth the effort. Dream Theater have invested in the "album" concept (and in listeners' attention spans) even as the music biz doubles down on the notion that long-players are merely envelopes to hold singles.

Earthtones is a refreshing, playful set that hits a sweet spot between classic smooth soul and Jurvanen's pensive soft rock.

Elegant, unusual touches like these suggest Facs are still finding new complexities in their music on Lifelike, an album that demands and rewards close listening.

While some of Werner's solo efforts, brilliant as they are, can seem cold and challenging, Smith's vocals on the album draw out the levity and excitement for exploring new ideas that might not be apparent otherwise.

The Blue of Distance refers to distant mountains appearing blue due to the scattering of higher-frequency light. An apt name for Saxl's meditative, ultimately wistful-feeling album, it also evokes its persistently immersive water themes.

A Little More Time sometimes suggests he recorded with this edition of Reigning Sound out of convenience or availability rather than a desire to reclaim the glories of the past. None of that changes the fact that Cartwright is a truly great songwriter, though, and he's delivered 11 winners on A Little More Time with Reigning Sound (as well as a roaring cover of Adam Faith's "I Don't Need That Kind of Lovin'"), played by a band who know his music and give it the expert support it needs.

All of it sounds supremely organic and works as a further interpolation of the soulful pop she embraced on Heard It in a Past Life. Surrender is the sound of Rogers coming into her complete self as an artist and choosing to be the positive force for good that she wants to see in both the pop and real worlds.

Though it's disjointed, a little bumpy, and -- in places -- perceptibly unfinished-sounding, The Shining is a very worthy addition to Dilla's discography.

The Ascension ranks with Carrie & Lowell as his most personal and affecting work to date.