Condon spends much of Rip Tide writing in first person, and it lends an air of much needed intimacy to the always gorgeous, yet historically elusive Beirut sound.

Ticket to Fame's balancing act between jumbled weirdness, edgy pop, and occasional respites of synthy atmospheres is a fantastic introduction to Decisive Pink's insular and contorted but often magical take on pop.

The way Buke and Gase pull together no wave's sense of texture with dance-punk's ear for rhythm is impressive enough, but the cohesion and approachability of General Dome are really what make the album.

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.

Another very interesting and beautiful album.

Spirit Fiction is a confident next step for the saxophonist; its execution and ambition offer a glance at where he's been, but more importantly, a solid look at where he's going.

Major feels like the coolest church service ever, devoid of dogma and ritual, and consecrated by the unholy smack of a thousand high-fives.

Despite the cockiness of its title, his songs remain pleasingly mellow and eclectic, working through a range of styles (highlife, dancehall, Afro-Cuban) and delivering memorable hooks and melodies with the confidence of his status.

As on Sketchy.'s finest tracks, Brenner and Garbus deliver emotionally direct, musically cohesive songs that don't sacrifice any of their time-tested creativity or intellect.

It's heady stuff, but it helps that the songs are catchy as hell, and once acclimated to Sensor's nasally snarl, which falls somewhere between Wreckless Eric, Bob Dylan, Kyle Craft, and Ezra Furman, it becomes easy to see why he's generating such buzz from the very same machine that he rages against.

They continue to show that rare talent here and, ten years into their recording career, that's something they can point to with pride.

Christmas Everywhere won't replace that Mantovani Christmas album your grandfather has been playing for decades at family gatherings, but if you're tired of putting Robert Earl Keen's "Merry Christmas from the Family" on a loop for that party with your friends, Crowell and his pals will fill the bill with style.

She optimizes her limited range, but she and Zaks choose to keep the productions, all pleasant and finely rendered, similarly circumscribed in style and tempo.

Fallon has found a way to distill his band's fiery nostalgia into something a little more refined, but no less affecting.

Halo's voice is never heard--likely a relief for those who found Quarantine too unsettling--but this is about as jolly as the cover illustration, drawn by her father.

On Winter of Mixed Drinks, they focus and polish Organ Fight’s epics--and add a healthy dose of optimism.

Come to Life is aptly titled when it comes to Aviv's talents, and even if he didn't invent cloud rap, using the genre for such positive and poignant music is previously unexplored territory.

While similar in feel to her debut, Magic Mirror is a significant step forward for Charles, who really steps up her game here.

Like Squirrel Flower's debut, Planet (i) is a journey through an ever changing landscape and marks a noticeable creative step forward for Williams.

The Rat Road is the type of sprawling, inconsistent work that likely only its creator fully understands, but it contains several fascinating, inspired moments.

The musical portion of her songs... takes a distant second place to her lyrics. Which is fine, because her words are so engaging, but it wouldn't hurt her to experiment a little more with chord progressions or keys.

The band's fullest and most developed record to date.

Foster is wearing her open heart on her sleeve but she's never pushing too hard, never overselling her message; she's charming with her warmth and sly skill.

The Nude Party does everything right in capturing a certain irreverent spirit here, including emphatic vocals and catchy songs about not only war, but astral planes, record shops, and ignoring advice to get a real job.

She and her fellow writers and producers have put together the type of album that drowns out the world and keeps giving with each play.

Despite its anxious closing words, "I will never learn," fans of the band's prior releases are almost guaranteed to embrace Strange Disciple, and it's an excellent entry point for the uninitiated.

Remarkably, these songs not only retain their emotional core even after they've been cleaned up, but they perhaps even gain more resonance in this setting.

The Instinct is both adventurous and accomplished and ambitious enough to suggest that this band is going to continue to push the limits one album after another.