Instead of party-starting excitement, the band refracts echoes of Can, Bowie, and the Talking Heads at their most abstract for an album that feels tense and bleary, like a party that's still fun but has burned on for so long that the sun is coming up and things are starting to get weird.

A few of the songs sound a lot like one another, and, like any rock & roll, The Things We Do can come off as risible to the rational heart and sensible head, but for the uncertain and, to refer to the Replacements, unsatisfied, the album is potentially relatable and potently cathartic.

Above all, it’s a mature album: Deftones skirted the obvious response to their tragedy, realizing that the left turn is a more rewarding journey.

No Better Than This proves that good songs need very little to communicate instructive narratives and complex emotions, and that primitive recording methods are still sometimes the best ones.

The Dreamer is a fitting--if not perfect--bookend to one of American popular music's most iconic lives.

Dear's vocals are at their most expressive, imposing, and sinister.

While the album is integral to its predecessors as part of a loosely conceived and articulated musical trilogy, it stands on its own as an exercise in close listening, careful communication, and quiet revelation.

As an unofficial soundtrack for ritual madness, religious ecstasy, sex, winemaking, and song, Dionysus excels.

Combining the no-rules ethos of the noise scene with the technical precision of metal results in a sound that coveys its punishing statements without sacrificing musicality and, indeed, exists as an artistic embodiment of off-the-charts anxiety.

Check the great "Extradite" ("Man, I stay on point like icicles") for instant gratification or "Basketball Wives" for an abstract take on the Miguel-flavored bedroom number, then appreciate how this album goes 17 tracks deep and never runs out of inspiration or ideas.

Overall, the combo of the band's inspired playing, the note-perfect production, the memorably fun songs, and the vitality of their voices helps make The Prettiest Curse their best record yet. It might not be simple and true garage rock anymore, but Hinds show they are able to grow up a little without losing any of the qualities that made them special.

Getting into Knives reminds us he's at the peak of his abilities in the art of record-making, and reminds us it's possible for a band to be brilliant without a shred of arrogance.

At no point are they longwinded, and they keep the variations on their sound rolling throughout the closing track.

None eclipse "Request" off VII, but the Kehlani collaboration "Morning" is a seductive delight, while the snaking (and accurately titled) "Boomin" is a treat for lovers of late-'90s R&B with explicit references to Blaque and much of the Swing Mob (plus an appearance from the latter's Missy Elliott). Confident diversions into breezy Afro-pop and underwater dancehall lead to a half-hour stretch covering various romantic woes.

The Chronicles of Marnia is an album that demands multiple journeys through the wardrobe, only this time it's to fully take in the album's melodic depths rather than to make sense of its technical achievements.

Raum feels a little bit more like a transitional work than the unexpectedly solid Quantum Gate, but that album seemed like more of an overt revisit of the band's classic sound, while Raum finds them taking more chances and exploring fresh ideas.

It's more focused than Want One and as such packs more of wallop both musically and emotionally.

It's filled with engagingly warm-sounding tunes mating melodic accessibility with a winning lyrical evanescence powered by the same kind of poetic dream logic that's cropped up in Califone's concepts before.

Carried to Dust isn't just one of Calexico's most expansive albums, it's also their most balanced, channeling their experience and potential into a subtly dramatic, chiaroscuro tour de force.

A sophisticated, mature, and altogether superior follow-up.

Toward the Low Sun is crushing in its sadness, unrelenting in its sweetness and pure aural emotion.

Cannibal Sea is the equal of anything the Ladybug Transistor have released (which is saying a whole lot), and is better than just about any indie pop or rock circa 2006.

Even if the producer's layered constructions cover the spectrum genre-wise, the overall feel of Some Cold Rock Stuf is classically J-Rocc and generally Stones Throw, coming with that right combination of lazy, purposeful, clever, odd, and organic.

The Singing Mailman Delivers doesn't do much to rewrite Prine's early history, but it confirms he revealed a remarkable talent as soon as he put his mind to writing songs, and it's an entertaining addition to his catalog for longtime fans.

Just like East of Eden, Other Worlds works both as a sonic experiment and as an expression of Bergsman's adventurous soul.

Throughout the album, whether he's coming off like a rootsy road dog or a post-Tin Pan Alley piano balladeer, Fullbright consistently displays a level of lyrical finesse that would be impressive in an artist with twice as many years behind him, which only bodes well for his future work.

While the more approachable Album of the Year makes for an easier entry point into the man's discography, this one is deeper, and artistically more filling.

Currency of Man is a further step away from the lithe, winsome pop-jazz that garnered her notice initially, and it's a welcome one.