Throughout, the album never loses its quietly hypnotic, reflective character or its soft-footed, ornate chamber-folk palette, transporting us to a distinct and remote destination that's nonetheless intimately relatable.

It's a good-time record, but one intended to showcase how Mudcrutch hit harder and dig a bit deeper than they initially seemed to do.

They may lack the immediacy of some of their more envelope-pushing contemporaries, but as sonic world-builders they excel, and certainly possess the acumen to expand those horizons on future outings.

His idiosyncratic, mumbled vocal delivery might occasionally make understanding the lyrics a bit of a challenge, but it's also one of his unique distinctions and with The Party, he's added another strong outing to his canon.

Rock history teaches us you can't will a masterpiece into existence, but with Car Seat Headrest's Teens of Denial, Will Toledo has created something like a novel after previously offering us short stories, and it's a piece of rough-hewn brilliance.

Whether it showcases a singer with a guitar or circular improvisations on a theme, most of Day of the Dead follows a similarly understated, tasteful path and, ultimately, that's what's impressive about it: it is a tribute to the Grateful Dead as sonic adventurers, pioneering new avenues into space and beyond.

It's not a vibe record so much as it's an album about the interplay of old pros who still get a kick playing those same old changes years after they've become second nature.

As always, In Glendale is a lot of fun, especially for fans who are prepared to smile in recognition at these songs rather than laugh at them.

Oscar displays a light touch that ensures Cut and Paste is a charming, unpretentious confection of an album, as well as a promising debut.

After such a long journey, the original lineup have finally made an album together and it's every bit as triumphant and evocative for fans as it is for the quartet who have finally fulfilled a vision they had at the turn of the millennium.

The Triad is an expansion of Pantha du Prince's otherworldly sound into a more human realm, but it still maintains its ethereal, magical qualities.

Blau places himself completely in his producer's hands. He digs into these lyrics and charts for all he's worth, delivering a gem that is as timeless as its songs.

The results are understated yet extraordinary, an idiosyncratic, romantic vision of 20th century America.

Earrings Off! is made up of uncompromising stuff that may take some adjusting to, but willing ears will find articulate, distinctive musicality that rewards repeat listens. It might even provide an unexpected earworm or two.

Almost a decade into their existence, the So So Glos have matured and tightened their execution, making Kamikaze a huge leap past their already 2014 breakthrough, Blowout. Musically, the album is a pure joy.

A Giant Dog aren't necessarily offering anything that hasn't been done before, but Pile is definitely a fun listen with enough bright spots and kinetic energy to sustain it.

Material is the black celebration that Depeche Mode foresaw, sparkling party music for the downcast masses.

If getting a live, rough demo energy was the goal, then the Heavy have succeeded. While the album never sounds lo-fi, the production nonetheless has the taut, confrontational energy of a basement punk show or old-school juke-joint performance.

This is a record that attempts to unfold but remains grounded within its own humble limitations.

Beauty Already Beautiful is bold, soul-baring proof that Spookyland knows the best rock & roll is all about unexpected contrasts; even when they nod to decades' worth of rock history, they sound vital, never lazy.

In some ways, this feels like the album Susanna's career has been building toward; her music has always united the heart and mind, and she does so with striking creativity on Triangle.

It Kindly Stopped for Me is no easy listen, and its mostly mumbled outpourings don't leap out of the speakers, but it is intensely honest, which is something we don't hear often enough.

The heavy-hitting social commentary of "America" is an example of Royce in the spotlight and exceeding expectations.

For Beans' nightmarish spoken narrative, Pritchard makes like a member of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop with intensifying patterns of organ filigrees and electronics that blip and swarm.

Honey nonetheless comes across as an attention-grabbing experiment more than it does a third proper full-length.

She and Greenspan refract techno-pop in their own way while binding additional forms of electronic post-disco that cross four decades, from boogie to juke.

Even if it isn't as dynamic as its predecessor, at the very least Ullages reflects that Eagulls can do more than rant.

It's all spirited and lively. At their best, the wide-eyed folk-soul moments tend to evoke a contemporized version of fellow Englishwoman Linda Lewis.