There's an abundance of low-wattage boasts about financial and libidinal surpluses, most of which could have been composed by a generator. Softer and more melodic cuts are indicated with all-lowercase track titles. ... If Yachty can find a way to be his goofy self and elevate his writing, he can rebound.

Listeners put off by Nash's cheekiness in the past may find her more relatable here, or at least more compelling, though Yesterday Was Forever still refuses to pander.

Apart from the sly and sweet 2-step rhythm on "Wasted Times," the sound of the EP is bleary R&B with beats that drag and lurch, suited for Tesfaye's routine swings between self-pity and sexual vanity, chemically enhanced from one extreme to the other.

We're Your Friends, Man proves that they (he?) haven't lost a bit of their vision and skill, and while it's hard to say where one should start investigating the Bevis Frond's massive body of work, this will give you the lay of the land just as well as most of their albums.

Romano has always been a tough artist to pigeonhole, but there's a feeling here of having shed a few more layers and dug a little deeper into his psyche, and the results are frequently exhilarating.

In looking to capture the ugliness of humanity and parse through the despair that slithers malevolently in its wake, Daughters have crafted their most vital outing to date.

As arranged by Good and Ferry, these are all wry and romantic productions that evoke the smoky ambiance of Babylon Berlin's Weimar Republic-era setting. Elsewhere, Ferry transforms the new wave sophistication of "While My Heart Is Still Beating" off 1982's Avalon into a slinky, half-lidded crawl, and similarly mutates the pop exotica of his 1985 title track "Boys and Girls" into a slow-burn flamenco fever dream.

Later lyrical transgression aside, the LP is a pleasurable thrill ride.

Skins takes that unrealized potential and cobbles together these tracks--basically b-sides and outtakes--strictly for fans who needed just ten more reasons to hear his voice.

Clocking in at over an hour, The Prophet Speaks breezes through its run-time with memorable performances and joyous vibes. This is a late-career surge that is all the more remarkable because Morrison really seems to be enjoying himself--he continues to hunger after the music that inspired his vocation in the first place.

What really makes this collection worthwhile is how these robust performances put the lie to the notion that acoustic Neil is sad, sensitive Neil.

They take more risks this time around, but not in a way that alienates the listener. The result is a sublime collection of freely expressive grooves which uplift and inspire.

Hey! Merry Christmas! delivers a solid shot of good cheer for the holidays, and if this doesn't get a party started when you put it on, you and your friends need to ask Santa to bring you some coolness.

Socks is a durable holiday gift, but one that's immensely more fun and enjoyable than its wry title implies.

This can result in highly intriguing experiences, such as the industrial drift of opening track "One on One" and the riveting "My Body," which matches its physical lyrics with muscular, glitchy drumming. Other tracks seem to meander a bit, however, and are hard to grasp at first. Still, the duo's haunting blend of challenging electronics and introspective, sometimes cathartic lyrics sounds unmistakably unique.

Supremely joyous and creative, Ens feels like the beginning of a new chapter for Holtkamp, and it's one of his most enjoyable works.

Those who expected Blow. to be McCaslin's return to jazz will likely be disappointed. That said, those who enjoy adventurous rock--indie, prog, and otherwise--will likely find the album to be greatly enjoyable and perhaps even revelatory.

The spacious nature of Sequence makes it a challenging listen even for those versed in experimental approaches. At times the band's long-winded emptiness is as easy to lose focus on as it is to be mesmerized by. Patient listening, however, reveals a tightly focused and deliberately crafted work by a band pushing their art forward at an aggressive pace.

While simple and often musically somnolent, its heart-wrenching effect is ultimately hard to shake.

For all its entertaining art-pop feats, Isolation is just as remarkable for serious moments like "Killer," in which Uchis reaches a high degree of anguish that only real-life experience can arouse.

With eight tracks and a playing time of 30 minutes, it's an efficient debut without a weak song in the bunch, one noteworthy for its poise as well as its engaging eccentricity.

It's a lovely and deeply creative record that came so late in his career that it appeared to have already been relegated to history.

He's mined this territory before, notably in Gorillaz's Demon Days, yet the very fact that the Good, The Bad & The Queen function as a band, drawing strength from their own interplay, gives Merrie Land a human resonance that echoes long after the final song ends.

Despite the often bleak themes at play on the album, there's also a refreshing hopefulness on many of the tracks that speaks to Healy's own recovery and willingness to say yes to even the most frothy pop trend. However, taken as a whole, the album is often as disparate and difficult to wade through as the social-media landscape it hopes to comment on.

In its own quiet way, Warm is one of the most powerful works of Tweedy's career, and it's the sort of music too many of us need today.

Writing with a sentimental gaze was a dominant trait of MacIntyre's even as a young man, and now in middle age, he does so with the authority of a nearly two-decade career and accumulated personal history behind him on this excellent release.

Universal Beings is unique from any other jazz recording in 2018: It marries virtuoso musicianship, technological savvy, a keen editor's ear for creative inspiration, and a plethora of almighty grooves.

One of the many impressive aspects of the Capitol Studio Sessions is just how balanced Goldblum's skills are as he deftly moves his audience from perky vocal standards to swinging instrumental numbers--each transition aided, of course, with some very charming stage banter.