Across the album's 12 yearning songs, the performances not only breathe but seem to sigh in concert with the main duo, arriving at what is much more an expansion of their trademark sound than a renouncement of it.

That's a lot of songs about life and death, but The Blues Is Alive and Well has a lot of songs in general--a full 15, lasting well over an hour. This excessive length means there's a lot of room for levity, too.

None of these more pointedly thought-provoking [spoken word] additions detract from the overall flow of the album, and instead add to the overarching vibe of open-minded creativity, love, and empowerment.

As dark as Goldsmith gets on Passwords, he remains hopeful, even romantic, summoning images of Romeo and Juliet and "Cusack holding that stereo" on the tender love song "Never Gonna Say Goodbye." It's that bittersweet message of hope for humanity on Passwords that resonates the strongest.

Admittedly, his embrace of slick pop aesthetics, Rat Pack swagger, and cheeky turns of phrase can be a bit much on first listen. But that being said, when it's backed with a strong hook and just a modicum of earnest emotion, as on the sanguine club jam "Hey Look Ma, I Made It," it's hard to deny.

The rebooted Immersion sounds far more engaging than the project's original incarnation, which had a tendency to meander, and Sleepless is certainly one of its best efforts.

Rhys' words may be filled with dread but his music offers solace in its deftly executed songcraft and reassuring soft focus, which means Babelsberg can soothe the very emotions it stirs up.

While some of his eccentricities can seem affected. Perhaps these stumbles are the side effect of an artist dedicated to capturing all the mess of the modern world, and even if there are moments that grate or confound, there's still something invigorating about an artist who refuses to sit still.

Some of the band's finest music yet, to say that Kazuashita was worth the wait is an understatement; it's a timely, necessary expression of hope that also feels like a union of the new and the eternal.

While the album could benefit from some tightening-- the middle stretch stalls the momentum--Expectations affirms Rexha's songwriting prowess, ear for catchy hooks, and ability to pull emotion from otherwise serviceable radio pop.

There's a palpable sweetness to music that endures, even when a production is as bright and glistening as it is on Shawn Mendes. That bodes well for the future that Shawn Mendes is so evidently planning for.

Heaven and Earth is more a refinement of the ideas expressed on The Epic than an entirely new paradigm. There is less wandering, more focus, more inquiry and directed movement, as well as an abundance of colorful tonal and harmonic contrasts.

As the band looks back upon three decades of pain and rage, Reznor and Ross leave the sonic bread crumbs and callback allusions to the first two installments, advancing with fresh and surprising new possibilities for the coming era of Nine Inch Nails.

As unconventional as it is relaxing, Zebra is perhaps Arp's most inviting sound-world yet.

No Sounds ends up seeming a bit scattered, even by the Orb's standards, but it's still plenty enjoyable, and enough to distract you from the nightmarish absurdity of current events.

Sorpresa Familia is a portrait of a band that's grown stronger musically and personally in the face of hardship, and the wisdom and freedom Mourn display on these songs is the best revenge they could get.

As inward-looking as her particular brand of overcast indie rock can be, she possesses a relatability and a knack for crafting delicious earworms that render even the most painful admission or rumination a small joy to ingest, evoking the wry vulnerability of Phoebe Bridgers and the hooky pop acumen of Lucy Dacus.

Some tracks don't fully conclude so much as abruptly end, adding to the dis-ease and resulting in an album that is as compelling to feel as it is to listen to.

Bon Voyage shows that Melody's Echo Chamber is far from being just a Kevin Parker creation. Prochet's vision is her own, and it's strong enough here to fly free of any and all constraints.

There are not a lot of bands who do what Protomartyr does, and even if there were, the skill and fury of their music would still set them apart, and Consolation is a brief but potent reminder that they're a force to be reckoned with.

Whether it's the dawning of a new age of retro-looking records or a one-off blast from the past, Kicker is a welcome return and a raucous homecoming for a once great band that still has something left in the tank.

Like Stateless, New Bodies is vibrant and refreshing, brimming with ideas but never seeming overwrought, and challenging without being too esoteric or off-putting.

Girls Names do a very good job of keeping the drama, intensity, and twisted emotion in place while taking the music into darker, odder realms. It's pretty far from the poppy place the band started at, but their journey remains one that is very much worth following.

While it's unlikely that Bird Dog Dante will win him many new fans, its curious, intimate, casual approach will certainly appeal to those who have embraced Parish's earlier--and no less idiosyncratic--recordings.

Chaney's robust voice commands the room, deftly weaving between the intersecting lanes of vulnerability and raw power with remarkable poise, especially on standout cuts like "Dragonfly," "Roman Holiday," and "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn," the latter of which uses the "cockles and mussels alive, alive oh" refrain from the traditional Irish ballad "Molly Malone" to devastating effect.

With the fountain of material springing out of Newcombe's Berlin studio in the first part of the 2010s, the quality level has been rather hit or miss, but Something Else is a solid effort and somewhat of a return to form for the veteran band.

They haven't quite arrived on a focused, cohesive sound yet. They certainly have something to say about the state of London nightlife, however, and it's worth paying attention to their insightful observations.

Like Going Back Home before it, As Long as I Have You benefits from Daltrey's diminished range, as it adds gravity and grit to his interpretation. This album also benefits from its tight backing band, which is graced with a swinging horn section but distinguished by Townshend playing a secondary, sympathetic role to Daltrey, helping to give this muscular, occasionally moving record an air of grace.