The album's deliberately murky tone (courtesy of Taylor Goldsmith and Jim James) doesn't always help, but in spite of its sometimes gimmicky tone, Sweet Creep is evidence that Jonny Fritz is a genuine talent and a first-rate songwriter, and with luck, he'll let his guard down some time and let us hear him without his persona getting in the way.

Patterns of Light is another huge, heavy, and beautiful album that suggests this incarnation of His Name Is Alive is one of their finest.

Not every track works and it's unlikely to replace Vince Guaraldi's A Charlie Brown Christmas in terms of sheer comfort, but it's certainly honest and offers an alternative to the parade of musical schmaltz that arrives like clockwork each season.

side from the cultural relevance of his lyrics, Choi's songwriting is catchy, vibrant, and brimming with melody and moxie on this excellent follow-up.

The execution is inarguably impressive, but the Head and the Heart have made much better music with simpler technique, and Signs of Light is the sort of album that confirms a fan's worst fears about an indie act signing with a corporate label.

This is certainly Long's most substantive release, and also a highlight of the extended Odd Future discography.

While some of those who got on board Team Temple with Good Mood Fool may be put off by the more rustic turn, many longtime fans will find A Hand Through the Cellar Door to be his most mesmerizing yet.

Like many a Christmas collection, the record becomes less elegant on sillier tunes like "Must Be Santa" (derived from a German drinking song) and a strangely plaintive version of the Chipmunks' "Christmas Don't Be Late." These diversions are limited, though, and, remarkably, don't include a rather beautiful rendition of "Mele Kalikimaka." Taken together, Christmas Party is a charmer.

Certainly the musicianship and arrangements are impeccable, but even with differing vocalists, all of the tracks are so similar that it ends up being as tedious as the producer's later work.

Some of this material, particularly the B-sides, are as finely honed as Apple, but the tracks that really kick are the rougher material on the third disc.

The songs may remain the same but the performances are vibrant and alive. For the serious Dylanphile, that's reason enough to acquire this hefty box.

It may not be as riveting or intense, but it still has the unmistakable Burial sound and it's still unpredictable, so it's still well worth the listener's time.

"Awaken, My Love" is a stone-cold blast from beginning to end.

On Forward Constant Motion, the duo make a leap forward and a little to the left, making for a rewarding, always interesting, and oddly emotionally satisfying album.

The band's return to basics here is effective with Calder at the helm, and results in an affecting record with consistent intensity and enough hooks to promote both catharsis and return visits.

harmony. Sundur's delicate poignancy is certainly darker than on prior albums ("Nothing ever stays the same"), but it's just as fascinating, and has the potential to be deeply affecting.

While his vintage approach may recall some of country music's golden eras, Bell rises above other young, retro-inspired acts on the strength of his memorable songwriting.

As a whole, Tolchin's rootsy acoustic mix works for him, though he shines brightest on the folkier, more heartfelt tracks.

If this is Brent's album, existing for comedic reasons purely to accompany the film, then it fulfills its purpose. However, taken at face value, it's nothing more than a mish-mash of classic rock tropes and controversial lyrics.

It's this lack of an overall aesthetic that makes Last Night on the Planet feel more like a compilation of singles than a full-fledged album; while the duo's skills are still evident, unfortunately the results aren't as rewarding as before.

It is a representative introduction to the work of a top-tier synth-pop group.

At times wistful and contemplative, frequently explosive, and pleasantly damaged, Worry. holds true to its creator's D.I.Y. aesthetic and pop-punk/ska roots while continuing to emphasize his new power pop direction.

Although it's not without some dazzling moments, this is the Zomby album with the lowest quantity of thrills.

Prima Donna is an essential snapshot of 2016 that bears witness to the evolution of an artist coming into his own with an unflinching, socially conscious perspective.

Swarming basslines and sluggish beats likewise form the rhythmic foundation, with gauzy and tickling keyboards adding sweetness to Scott's hedonistic hooks. Only on "Guidance," through scuttling drums granted by DF, is there a significant shake-up.

The mellifluous vocals and washes of texture wind up balancing each other a little bit too well: it's an alluring sound that seems attractive in the moment by disappears in the slipstream.

As good as Still Corners are at fitting their music into a mold, the tension they create between city and seaside, as well as their pop and experimental impulses, is unique, and Dead Blue is most rewarding when they explore it fully.

That ["Only U"] and a couple other exceptions aside, the hour-plus set offers more variations on the narcotic, boast-filled slow jams for which Brathwaite and his fellow OVO Sound artists are known.