The Black Album feels like the most fully realized latter-day Weezer album: it may flagrantly draw from old and new elements of pop culture, yet it belongs to its own feverish world.

Much like Lotic's astonishing Power, Death Becomes Her is an urgent, forward-thinking work which fearlessly celebrates nonconformity while pushing the artist's innovative craft to a new level.

Vynehall's DJ-Kicks plays like a set by adventurous college radio DJs eager to show off every record that's been exciting them lately.

The resulting album has a fuller sound, though it's still distinctly intimate. Lyrically, Placeholder explores various relationships--good and bad--which is reflected in a musical demeanor that's both melancholy and sweet.

Snapped Ankles' wild eyed formula is better taken in one song at a time, as sitting through the entire album can quickly exhaust the senses. Even though Stunning Luxury is an overwhelming blur at times, small doses of its feral excitement can be infectious and even catchy in their own surreal way.

Rather than a mundane breakup album rife with familiar tropes, Frawley channels his distress into a unique and engaging album that is easy to spend some time with.

Moving slowly but deliberately, the Delines dwell upon the lingering, lasting melancholy of bad decisions and bad timing, creating an album ideal for the twilight moments when revisiting an old heartbreak proves to be irresistible.

If Future had simply focused on these standouts, The Wizrd could be impeccable. However, given its runtime and filler moments, this remains yet another serviceable trap buffet that would benefit from some trimming to maximize impact and allure.

Despite a couple of duds, the gloomy groove of the album is musically vivid and lyrically vulnerable. Taking cues from some of his era of rap's most boundary-pushing figures, Boogie's debut sets the scene for even greater things to come.

Yorkston's devotion to regionalism and his own self-mythology remains a central aspect of his presentation, and with this album, he offers another mesmerizing glimpse into that strange but increasingly familiar world.

The way every part of Lung Bread for Daddy comes together to create a ragged but ultimately uplifting self-portrait of Du Blonde makes for thrilling listening.

Post Earth is a step up all around for Feels, and refreshingly demonstrates they don't need a garage-pop prodigy on board to make an album worth hearing.

It frequently upends expectations while confirming Clark's broad talent and imagination, and if this doesn't convince you he's a major artist, nothing will.

Throughout the solid set of songs, Fitchuck and Tashian prove a tasteful fit for the duo, reinforcing and embellishing the sisters' languid technique but also staying out of their way.

The main difference between the two albums is that the first volume retains a sense of discovery, whereas the second is made with the confidence that this particular formula works. In either case, the two albums -- whether heard individually or as a pair, as they so often are -- aren't so much complements but of a piece, music that changed the course of popular music and remains a testament to the genius of Ray Charles.

She's channeling her own experiences so they speak to the universal, just like the classic soul she loves. The result is an extraordinary record, one designed to be part of a grand musical tradition, and it contains enough emotion and imagination to earn its place within that lineage.

Though it's more than a little contrary that their first album on their own label is more melodic and emotionally immediate than their work for Rough Trade, it's one of many moves on Eton Alive that are pure Sleaford Mods.

Lines, Vols. 1–3 continues to look to the past for inspiration, yet it does so with a contemporary flair, deftly utilizing the airy, chamber pop stylings of musical arranger and producer Adrian McNally.

Combative, defiant, and teeming with Victoria's distinctive mix of streetwise poeticism and literary depth, Silences is a strong and inventive follow-up.

There are a few moments on the album where the drums sound a little cluttered or it isn't quite clear what direction a song is going in, although perhaps that's to be expected for music meant to be this dreamlike--it's not always supposed to make perfectly logical sense. Regardless, the album is a delightful trip from an unmistakably original artist.

Dream Theater reaffirm their identity on Distance Over Time, displaying a collective hunger, abundant energy, creativity, and musical (re)discovery. This set should erase the schism between fans and win the band a whole slew of new ones.

While both performers are too iconic for Better Oblivion Community Center to truly feel separate from their respective bodies of work, there's still a strange magic that comes from the combination.

Crushing is riveting right from the spare, noir-tinged opening track, "Body," which remembers the moment Jacklin decided to leave the relationship after her partner got them thrown off a flight.

Nowhere is Batoh's most provocative yet accessible solo album; its otherworldly strangeness is uncompromising, but somehow welcoming because of its deep focus. Its many textured ripples, fissures and psychic pathways resonate long after its playing timer expires.

The casual, lived-in feel of American Love Song makes such political protests as "America" feel a little too blunt, but instead of being a flaw, its directness is a benefit, since it shines a light on how subtle and nimble the rest of this terrific record is.

The album never seems to stray from its design, however, and is loaded with catchy, memorable songs, an even more impressive feat considering its origins.

If the duo's satire sometimes seems cheap--the Tinder jibes on "Easily Charmed by Fools" are a little too easy--they make up for it through sheer good humor, which is why the playfulness of South of Reality charms instead of alienates.

An uplifting, planet-sized embrace, ALL is another triumph for Tiersen.