It's hard to know where to start in praising her: she has a voice as clear and carefully modulated as that of a young Alison Krauss; her songs are rooted in tradition but full of sly and subtle complications that will take any careful listener by delighted surprise, and her mandolin playing is a thrilling combination of sparkling precision and jazzy abandon.

If Jones' performances and compositions over the years have touched on themes of yearning and the past, with a soft echo into the present day, then it stand all the more to reason why the album title and the cover art--a guitar-playing cat, looking at the moon--should sum up the feeling of The Wanting so well.

Strange Heaven shows that Mrs. Magician have a lot of potential, especially if they keep the biting wordplay and broaden their sonic horizons.

Fossils is not only an auspicious debut, but one that lives up to, and at times even exceeds, the promise of its potential.

Push Any Button is what Sam Phillips fans have come to rely on over her course of her career: a perfectly crafted album that overflows with melodic hooks, musical grace, lyrical insight, and emotional depth.

The moments of pop are catchy and engaging, but far more compelling are the songs that dig deeper into tense dynamics and protracted storytelling.

It's a casual and friendly record with less of the nostalgic melancholy Sexsmith is frequently known for.

Raw, organic, but ambitious.

With their debut album, E create urgent music for chaotic, uncertain times.

It's mature and sophisticated, sure, but more than this, its wildly imagined journey through the musical cosmos is a hell of a lot of fun.

There's certainly enough here to prove that post-Nitro AFI are a better and stronger group, unafraid to continue pushing their sound with each release.

As a whole, Cryptoriana: The Seductiveness of Decay is a welcome step further ahead from Hammer of the Witches in its force and economy, and even with its missteps it's a stronger album for it.

The Endless Shimmering displays ASIWYFA's unrelenting optimism, and demonstrates their mastery of their singular brand of math-grunge.

While other hitmaking urbanos (J Balvin, Bad Bunny, Ozuna, Farruko et. al) have also pursued crossover domination, Maluma is poised to succeed due to the seamless adaptability he offers on 11:11. He displays over and again here that he not only indulges stylistic diversity, but masters it.

GospelbeacH are a great rock band, but on this album at least, it's their softer, more stripped-down tunes that carry the day and provide Let It Burn's most memorable moments.

At times the songwriting just doesn't hold up to the inventive production, but there's plenty of ear candy to fill the gaps on this extremely fun LP.

A triumphant return for longtime fans and a winning introduction for newcomers, Crave shows Kiesza has only gotten better at reinventing the idealism and big emotions of a bygone era for another generation.

For the most part, it's a continuation of what the giants have done over the preceding several years with the likes of Dave Hollister, Johnny Gill, and Peabo Bryson: compositionally rock-solid adult contemporary R&B with an emphasis on ballads and slow jams. And, as always, the songs are tailor-made for the singers.

Rashad sings with restraint the whole time, giving each line an air of secrecy and/or seduction -- almost as if he's self-conscious about breaking an unreasonable noise ordinance. The approach is fitting, with Rashad riding just above the warmly reverberant grooves and background voices to heady effect.

Gately's meditations on mothers and daughters, and bodies creating and betraying, are fascinating, and Fawn/Brute's expressions of the darker corners of childhood and motherhood might be even more revealing than more conventional musical memoirs.

Kid Koala's music remains as inventive and conceptual as ever, but Creatures of the Late Afternoon is the most stylistically varied, adventurous, and straight-up fun release he's made in ages.

Despite the preponderance of lighter tunes, the heart of the record lies in "Miles Away," a bittersweet reminiscence Secor co-wrote with Molly Tuttle and sings with Willie Watson, a founding Old Crow Medicine Show member who left years ago whose presence gives the song deep emotional resonance.

His words are worth hearing, but the appeal of Southern Star lies in its mellow vibe. Its funk can seem as deeply felt and idiosyncratic as Leon Russell in his prime, while the backyard balladeering is as tender as James Taylor's, a combination that's cozy and endearing.

Unlike such fine latter-day Hunter albums like Shrunken Heads, there's not a driving theme behind Defiance, but there doesn't need to be. The fact that Hunter can sound this tuneful, sharp, and engaged when he's well into his eighties is a triumph worth celebrating.

It’s a different way to experience some familiar tunes, and yet another window into one of the more vibrant periods of Young’s ever-shifting creativity.

Moneyball sounds both auspicious and like the 11th album from an unearthed Stephen Malkmus project at the same time, and it's hard to imagine they won't have more music on the way.

Kramer and Moore interact with each other's fiery and ungovernable sounds effortlessly, often finding anger and peace within the same tune. They craft an atmosphere that stays in this tenuous balance for the entirety of the album, acknowledging suffering and universal loss while always keeping the hope for something better as a guiding light.

Gift of Screws is a standout even in his catalog.