Overall--despite the serious premise of addiction and recovery--The Wave is urgent and joyous, so achingly hopeful that it's hard not to root for Chaplin and his family.

As with any compilation, it plays a bit unevenly at times, but overall, Say Yes! is a solid listen born out of great respect for Smith's legacy.

Obel's penchant for pairing elements of Elizabethan choral polyphony with millennial angst, not to mention her liberal use of spinet and celeste, would seem pedantic in less skilled hands, but there isn't a single moment on the quietly stunning Citizen of Glass that doesn't feel authentic.

The songs all keep to a calm, unhurried pace, but stand-out "Do You Need My Love" has a slightly busier rhythm, driven into a hypnotic midsection by impressive drumming and Lennon-esque pianos. Mering's singing has never sounded lovelier or more pristine than it does here, and her yearning lyrics are at the forefront of these elegant compositions.

The result is a beautifully arranged but fleeting collection that could work a little harder to draw listeners in.

It's intimate and powerful and, at 48 minutes, it's also a perfect length. Requiem for Hell is simultaneously a perfect introduction to and summation of Mono as a band.

With Gameshow, Two Door Cinema Club ultimately balance a growing pop maturity with a stylish strut worthy of Saturday Night Fever's Tony Manero.

With the exception of the seriously catchy "Get Your Way," the rest of this set is dominated by the group's rock moves, but at the same time, Polizze writes actual songs, not just frameworks for his guitar work, and it's the melodic strength of High Bias that makes it so powerful.

Everyone involved should make a concerted effort to do it again, because the album works on so many levels. It's an absolute joy that both hip-hop lovers and Brazilian music fans will be able to appreciate.

Fully energized and tightly concentrated, the producer's first studio album in three years is a concise and infrequently relenting set of nine songs that rail against those who have caused emotional and planetary harm.

The rest of the surprisingly accessible Smash the System follows suit, weaving in some solid singer/songwriter-y bits ("Bomber Jacket"), some Sleaford Mods-style post-punk ("Power of the Witch"), and even a dollop of neo-pagan Wicker Man-worship ("Cosmic Man"), all with a wink and a nod, of course.

Stewart is content to work on the fringes of the synth pop underground, and that's the kind of iconoclasm that makes It's Immaterial worth seeking out for fans of the sound who are sick of how omnipresent it seems.

Even on more restrained moments like these, Gately's audacious ideas and artistry make Color a dazzling debut album.

The album feels like the duo are reaching for something greater, but the end result feels like a dilution, a compromise, and every other synonym for middle-of-the-road.

As per usual, the band has little interest in settling into any specific genre, incorporating bits of noise rock and black, sludge, and prog metal into the mix whenever they see fit, but one thing Whatever Forever does do consistently is melt your face off which, in the end, is probably a good thing for the earth.

Some of the lyrics are so direct that they scan as trite, yet they're expressed with soul-stirring, serve-the-song conviction, and he's in the top tier when it comes to pure skill. Moreover, the songs are of undeniably high quality, filled with joy, gratitude, and devotion.

The album succeeds in creating a calm state of mind, but it never dwells in one place for too long, sounding more excited than it might seem on the surface.

Overall, Oh My My is another solid record from a group led by one of the best songwriters of a generation.

It's a dense and lyrically challenging record, as you would expect from two highly intelligent individuals who have lived through the bars they deliver, but it ends on their most salient point: "Can't escape yourself, please love yourself," Riz MC's final words on "Din-e-llahi."

Every Now & Then is the best kind of second album, one that improves on the first one without throwing away any of the elements that made it good.

A confounding, often thrilling album of pieced-together samples and shorted-out electronics that nevertheless has a primitive groove coursing through its veins.

His spectral voice moves within billowing clouds of elliptical melody, many of which are painted using much brighter colors than their melancholic librettos would suggest, resulting in something that's very much like the anachronistic cult anthology television show that helped to inspire them.

At their best, they are capable of creating songs that take off like jet planes at dusk ("Hi+Lo"), strut wobbly like Paul Williams on a bender ("I Wanna Prove to You"), and hit the perfect spot between heartbreakingly sweet and just plain odd.

Ultimately, with WALLS, Kings of Leon have struck a nice balance between the garage band passion of their early work, and the large scale bombast that made them stars.

While not all of Utopia Defeated's tracks are as immediately engaging as the aforementioned highlights, Perry introduces a unique vision and his impressive debut is well worth the time it takes to let it decant.

It's not the prettiest or easiest of records, nor is it Oberst's finest outing to date, but it does house some real gems, including the emotionally charged opener "Tachycardia," the thoughtful, Dylan-esque "You All Loved Him Once," and the barbed and broken "A Little Uncanny."

For anyone who enjoys sinking into a gooey, sleepy, eerily warm, and keyboard-laden sonic murk, but still wants the occasional hooky tune to keep them happy, Brunei may be just the right thing to keep the good times peacefully rolling.

He still seems to jot down his thoughts in a stream-of-consciousness manner without trying to force them to rhyme, and he hasn't particularly made more of an effort to sing in tune, but his songs are still a joy to listen to because of his easygoing manner and casual, occasionally funny lyrics.