Those who don't process the lyrics will be missing a lauded part of the McCombs experience, Mangy Love, arguably more than ever, works as a musical expression alone, mixing the sometimes caustic lyrics and roguish indie touches with an overriding smooth '70s veneer. For those who take it all in, the album engages both the intellectual and aural pleasure centers.

The whole album is pretty good, sometimes even really good. The Parrots may not be doing anything new or even close to it, but they give the corpse of garage rock a good kicking and that's a pretty cool.

While Andrews may lack the late singer/songwriter's [Jeff Buckley's] angelic pipes, he shares his knack for making the darkness in all of us feel both hopeless and sexy.

Anything But Words is a stellar and truly collaborative endeavor between two creative energies, the result of an organic songwriting process that is anything but thrown together.

Lots of people are making music like this in 2016, but very few are making it this impressively.

It's not uncommon for these songs to bloom into something celebratory during their second half, such as on the rippling, shimmering "Wandering Still." Between Waves is easily the strongest, most inspired Album Leaf release in at least a decade.

Slow Club's metamorphosis feels organic and, more importantly, embraced: this is their record, and the sound you're hearing is Slow Club overcoming their struggles.

Somewhere Else should make a point of giving Real a listen--at her best, she's quite simply as good and as brave a singer and songwriter as anyone working today, and Real finds her at the top of her game.

Alternating between bro country that's just past its sell-by date, summertime party tunes so breezy they get silly, and a heavy dose of southern rock, the Cadillac Three demonstrate versatility but they also seem scattered, as if they're scrambling for an audience.

[Jocie Adams'] musical eclecticism gives Arc Iris a leg up as they vanquish trendiness in favor of free-flowing exploration.

Similarly, the loping "Occupational Hazard" and the militaristically epic "Dionysus" have a kinetic flow that is, as with all of Furnaces, both literate and cinematic.

As per usual, it's Hannigan's otherworldly voice that provides the anchor, effortlessly shifting from smoky lows to crystalline highs like a precision sports car on a twisty mountain test drive.

On the whole, while the album lacks a certain distinctiveness (Lauber's vocals mostly blend, too), there's strength in its solid core and easygoing vibe.

Vacancy charts a tumultuous journey through Raneri's relatable struggles, providing a kindred spirit and mouthpiece for anyone who has ever been burned by love.

While this is easily Horseback's most "laid-back" effort, it's also the one with the most going on musically. It's impossible to pin it all down; simply surrender, let it have its way. You won't regret it.

Mausoleum is a rare recording in that its appeal is vast.

There are a few standouts strewn throughout like "Jump the Gun," "So Tired," and "Laura," but mostly it's the kind of long-player that works best blaring in its entirety from the speakers of a sun-roasted beach cruiser dashboard on the way to someplace fun.

This sounds like an album Parton could have made in the mid-'70s, before she made her bid to become a cross-genre superstar, and for fans who want to hear "the Real Dolly," Pure & Simple will hit the spot like a glass of iced tea on August afternoon.

Animal Races comes a bit late in the season to be the smart indie pop album of the summer, but if you want to conjure the mood of a beautiful day in a warm California town, the Cool Ghouls are just the band to do it.

Alice Bag isn't a belated victory lap from a veteran of the punk rock wars, it's a diverse and deeply satisfying album from an artist who is finally getting a chance to live up to her great potential, and here she isn't missing a trick.

It's rare that someone has an idea this good and unique in the first place, double rare when someone can keep going back to that same idea and find new ways to express it. In that regard, Sweatbox Dynasty is another oddball triumph for a one-of-a-kind artist.

Despite his growing confidence and excellent production and arrangements, the singing and lyric writing still need work. This is a snapshot of where he is at the moment. It's a solid effort even with its flaws.

On the whole, the music on A Place Called Bad makes a strong case that the Scientists were one of the '80s best bands, especially during their swamp noise years. They had the look, they had the songs, they had the sound, and everything they did burned with the white hot fire that only the very best groups are able to harness.

Callus is the most challenging, confrontational Gonjasufi record yet, and it's also his most daring work.

The sparser songs here have everything they need, however, and that's the album's most impressive feat, even topping memorable melodies: a feeling of stability in the territory of loss.

Hotter singles make their debut a better buy, but for a group pegged as a one-hit wonder early on, SremmLife 2 dispels that myth with style.

Curious, ramshackle, and unapologetically rough around the edges, the two-disc, 24-track set is more sprawling than it is ambitious, but like everything else that the enigmatic Richard Davies (Moles, Cardinal, Cosmos) lays his hands on, the results are, more often than not, mesmerizing.

While Vulnicura Live may not be the most fun of Björk's concert albums, its powerful performances still make it a joy for fans to hear.