On this album, Della Mae expand their roots-and-groove quotient, and extend the margins in their writing without sacrificing either the virtuosity and sparkle in their performance or the root persona in their sound.

7 (Or 8) is the messy but precise sound of true believers in search of the Crunch that Transcends All, and there are moments where they come impressively close to actually finding it.

Armed with sounds of vintage gear recorded at a hospitable Austin, Texas instrument shop, Anand created Para in a number of locations, yet the album sounds like it was made in deep, zoned-out concentration. Its track sequencing is fluid as well, even when the array of approaches verges on excessive.

Altogether an effective cross between the less gloomy range of '70s singer/songwriters and acerbic British tunesmiths like Paul Heaton and Robyn Hitchcock, the Cambridge, England native's style feels at once sentimental and pointed, a combination that charms.

Jomsviking effectively distills all of the band's predilections into one big, dragon-headed longship of an album, sails aflame and headed straight into the mouth of Valhalla.

Strange Diary is an instantly appealing debut album that distills several years' worth of ups and downs into a set of sharp, affectionate tunes.

It delivers an excellent portrait of Wobble as disciple, master, and prophet of dub.

The Old 97's still sound engaged, energetic, and as committed as ever 23 years after they released their debut, and Graveyard Whistling is evidence they're not short on fresh ideas either.

Song of the Rose won't do much for your next dance party, but if you're looking for music that's intelligent and introspective but still revels in the beauty of the world around us, then Arbouretum have made an album you need to hear.

While there's not any major conceptual through-line here, one of the most impressive aspects of Five is the album's balanced flow, which evokes the A- and B-side aesthetic of the vinyl age.

Throughout, the slippery beats, rangy songwriting, crisp, breezy production, and the streetwise pleasure-seeking confessionals and sideways jokes, make for a feel-good (even in its darker moments) summertime urbano album to be pumped loudly from car stereos, at parties, or on the beach.

Singing for My Supper is unapologetically rooted in the past, but James is just idiosyncratic and genuinely talented enough to avoid pastiche, as he effortlessly amalgamates Southern blues, country, folk, pop, and jazz into something that evokes Jason Isbell by way of Lee Hazlewood or Tim Buckley.

Canada's Born Ruffians continue to hone their exuberant sound on their sixth album, 2020's punchy and inspired Juice. Produced by Graham Walsh, who has previously worked on similarly inventive efforts by Alvvays, !!!, and Holy Fuck, Juice is a live-sounding album, full of hooky shouted choruses, and tactile, analog instrumentation.

The production is at the same level of detail and quality that Burna Boy has maintained for most of his releases, but the songs flow in a cohesive, sometimes narrative fashion that offers a more direct emotional impact than some of his earlier work.

Lightning Show Us Your Stuff doesn't feel like one of the truly great albums in Grant-Lee Phillips's catalog, but it's certainly a very good one, and any artist who can reliably turn out music this smart, impassioned, and well-crafted is someone who more than deserves a larger audience.

The death-centered storytelling of both the lyrics and podcast excerpts works well with Tunng's ever-ambitious blend of mystical folk and futuristic pop, and ultimately Dead Club's perspectives on the great beyond come off as curious and playful where they could have skewed far more fatalistic.

Ultimately landing like a skill set in progress more than an artist fully formed, Super Monster is nevertheless sweet and full of winsome promise.

With The Blue Elephant he has made something bordering on greatness, where his skills at creating sound are allowed to fully flower, his songs have grown deeper roots, and the pairing with Blundell borders on brilliant.

The album puts too much emphasis on its cool side rather than the warmth that truly elevates the music, but there is more than enough beauty and empathy here to make this well worth your time and attention.

It's a lot of ground to cover in a swift 36 minutes but the nice thing about Lindsey Buckingham is that it feels as vibrant as it is controlled. It's the work of an expert craftsman who relies on his skills as composer, arranger, producer, vocalist, and guitarist to sculpt songs that comfort without succumbing to nostalgia.

Their best since 2014's This Is All Yours, The Dream finds Alt-J in top form. Despite being so lyrically death-obsessed, the beauty and warmth coursing through the album make it full of life and absolutely human.

A like-minded, generally uplifting, uptempo set (this time comprising a still generous 12 songs).

A more playful, song-oriented set, if one where the lighter tone proves to be more than a little ironic.

Rhythmically a balanced mix of energetic grooves and melancholy explorations, the album is wall-to-wall artful expression that finds a songwriter thriving as part of a four-piece.

Who feels like a Who album: The two still bring out the best in each other.

Traveling Alone feels more spontaneous and immediate than most of Tift Merritt's previous work, but it's no less beautiful or affecting for it.

Micky looks at the past not with sad reverence but with a smile, happy that he was there and happy to be able to sing about it still, and that's the vibe of Good Times!: it was a blast to live it then and it's a blast to relive those times too.

Lacking rhythmic hypnotism and relatable most to those who are experiencing solitude created by romantic desertion, this is not your mother's Sade album.