They’ve never been the most consistent band, making mistakes and careening down the wrong road in pursuit of transcendence – something they have managed to achieve a few magical times -- but they’ve never sounded this irrelevant or out of touch before.

The group's reflective take on grunge- and shoegaze-flavored indie rock is still in play -- such as on the shimmery surfaces of "What You Told Me," the churning distortion of "Something Exciting," and the echoey delay of the bittersweet title track -- but with a more polished net sound resulting from sessions produced by bandleader Soph Nathan, her Big Moon bandmate Fern Ford, and none other than longtime PJ Harvey associate John Parish.

A triumphant live album, Resuscitate! is as much a celebration of the evolution of Callahan's music as it is the shared experience between musicians and audience.

In their own oblique way, Rhetoric & Terror's ambling experiments feel confrontational; when so many artists are unwilling to flout the most basic musical conventions, Hemphill and company are still very much on their own path.

Chromakopia is less of a cohesive statement than Tyler's fans are used to hearing; it's erratic and candid at once, a strange pressure cooker of boasts and doubts that falls out of step with its deftly sequenced and thematically tight predecessors. But these are the sounds at the precipice of change -- perhaps it's fitting that Tyler can't quite package himself as neatly this time around.

Ecce Homo registers as strong, wildly creative, focused, and vulnerable. It may be his solo masterpiece.

Fun, naughty, and a little nasty, 3AM stretches the typical party-friendly novelty sound that Confidence Man perfected on their first two albums, showcasing artistic growth with a laser-focused intent to keep your body moving late into the night, when it feels like anything can (and will) happen.

In the end the album is strangely uplifting and yes, cleansing, as he washes out the sadness, pain, and suffering he's been through and ends up on his feet, bruised but still ready to carry on. By the end of the record, listeners are liable to feel the same way. There are no barriers or guardrails here, it's an unblinking gaze into the abyss, and victory over that bleakness, that can be shared by anyone brave enough to tag along.

Even compared to the brilliance of Elverum's albums in the late 2010s and early 2020s, Night Palace holds a special place in his discography. This document of the peace he found while reassembling his life and his music offers a deeply rewarding experience for fans who have loved his sound at any stage of his career.

With Last Leaf on the Tree, Willie Nelson and Micah have crafted a relaxed album of subtle virtuosity, as if every song could be the last.

Songs of a Lost World isn't just an album of unlikely listenability, though. It's a new chaper late-in-the-game so unexpectedly powerful that it's nothing short of stunning, and just as unexpectedly, it ranks among the band's best work.

Rest assured, there's plenty of rappity rap-rap on Alligator Bites as Doechii lays bare her paradoxical qualities -- declarations of dominance, examinations of self-doubt, both the pressures and exploits of her fame brought to light -- in vivid style.

The delicate acoustic closer "Stick Man Test" makes the entire journey end up feeling more like a soundtrack than a standard album.

It's fine work from a great songwriter who is following his passions while he can, and that makes it special.

This is the album Lone Justice should have been allowed to make in 1983, and in 2024 it remains music full of heart, soul, and passion. It was worth the wait.

With Planet Nowhere, Razorlight have made an album of catchy, no-nonsense anthems that capture the fizzy, garage-rock swagger of their best work.

Mining her musical upbringing and honoring her myriad inspirations, Halsey comes full circle, connecting her own youth and innocence with intimate adult ruminations on parenthood, aging, and legacy. It's an engrossing homage to the figures that made her into the artist -- and inspiration -- that she has become herself.

Cartoon Darkness is a sweaty, visceral thrill, apt for aggressive revelry, driving too fast, and scrapping for the fun of it. It's not a very friendly listen, but that's not the point: confrontational and cathartic, it's existential bloodletting with a warrior's fury and a shredded throat.

The Night the Zombies Came is at its best when the band leans into the drama that has always made them stand out from the crowd. "Chicken" is one such moment, a sidewinding mood piece that swings between pride and desperation as wildly as Santiago's twanging, squalling fretwork. However, the album's brightest gem is "Jane (The Night the Zombies Came)."

While the record's 11 tunes clock in at a mere 33 minutes, it feels complete, fully formed, and full of great tunes and hard-won wisdom.

Addiction and mental health, subjects that are interwoven throughout the potent 22-track set with the rawness and renewal born of having been caught in their grips.

She uses these songs as a statement of intent, pushing beyond the limitations of the interchangeable rap star persona to show her creative depth, and constructing an album environment where she's able to seamlessly transition between dominating the party and opening up about vulnerabilities.

Its lyrics are concerned mainly with current- or post-relationship malaise, whether he regrets ever getting together in the first place (the somewhat cringy "Starfucker"), feels distant ("2001," "Same Old Story"), wonders if he's leaving any impression at all ("What's It Gonna Take to Break Your Heart?"), or ambivalently philosophizes "Maybe love is a way to kill time," which could have been the title for the album.

I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair highlights how Owens can write songs detailing life's harshest miseries and somehow twist them until the main takeaways are hope and gratitude. It's a rare feat, and Owens accomplishes it on many of these songs, making the album not just a collection of some of his strongest work but a humbling reminder to remember to be thankful for what we have while we have it.

Much more than a victory lap, brat and it's completely different but also still brat enriches the Brat listening experience and the understanding of Charli xcx's artistry.

While Key seems worthwhile as an exploration of how songs can grow and change over time, just like people, it's unlikely any of the songs are transformed enough to warrant a fan exodus from the originals. On top of that, the selections' mix of popular and lesser-known make it a lackluster hits collection. What may win over some listeners, however, is its knowing, somewhat ominous tone and its function as a songwriting showcase.

The finished product is so muddled in many of its would-be fleeting spaces as to elicit the phrase: Just because you can doesn't necessarily mean you should.

Although the songs here are solid enough and likely to sate fans, the overall effect is a soundscape that's somewhere in the in-between, suiting the limbo of Evergreen's ruminations but not warranting superlatives within Soccer Mommy's growing catalog.