A more consistently angsty, saturated sound results that's in harmony with lyrics about struggle, self-examination, and challenging life events on songs with titles like "Change," "Sink," and "Fall Came Too Soon and Now I Wanna Throw Up."

They never clear the chateau dancefloor, and they add flashes of '80s synths on tracks like "Don't Change," video game music on "Kiki, You Complete Me," glockenspiel and fluttery effects on the mysterious "It's About Time," and a sense of urgency on the fiery "La Bomba." It all makes for a good time for all while at the same time offering to recede nicely into a groove-heavy background as needed.

It's still hard to listen to his more ambient material without comparing it to the sweeping rush of his dance music, which arrives at some truly staggering highs. Still, Ritual is an engaging experience that succeeds at transporting the listener and replenishing the soul.

The Bed I Made is easily the equal of any of their earlier work. It should make old fans very happy, while giving anyone lucky enough to come across the record a chance to discover that one of the best bands to come out of the indie rock scene of the 1990s is now one of the best bands of the 2020s too.

Bird's Eye is more of a grower than Hypnos, but it gradually reveals itself to be another marvelous, multifaceted record.

Beabadoobee refuses to be boxed in as she grows as a woman and artist, and on This Is How Tomorrow Moves, she dares her listeners to keep up with her changes.

They haven't stopped being unpredictable and confounding, and they're even exploring deeper emotional territory than before, yet their work becomes more cohesive the more one becomes familiar with it.

Stepping up significantly from the sometimes personality-light commercial sounds of her earlier work, Latto cultivates an atmosphere of palpable Deep South humidity and salacious fun on these songs.

Power more than lives up to the high standards Sarah Tudzin established on Let Me Do One More, and if you're in the mood for smart, insightful indie pop that's not afraid to rock, Illuminati Hotties is a band you need to hear.

By probing the heart's most vulnerable places on Meditations on Love, Susanna uncovers new angles on well-worn feelings and her music alike.

With most of the songs clocking in at under three minutes, when the album ends on the dramatic, 127-second "Blue Monday," with its tight, Beatles-styled harmonies and death-stained lyrics, it feels abrupt, but that may be also due to Konschuh's refusal to deliver catharsis, breaks in the clouds, or healing.

With Imaginal Disk, Magdalena Bay straddle pop worlds, bringing together a maximalist dance club atmosphere and ecstasy-laced, burning Wicker Man euphoria, all filtered through a dial-up computer dream of the pop future.

When all is said and done, they remain fantastic songwriters, able to convey a variety of emotions without relying on the trappings of punk. The corners may have been sanded off, but it has only revealed new and interesting textures underneath.

Oyster Cuts is a softly triumphant album, one that replaces the noncommittal vagueness that plagues so much indie rock with songs that tackle difficult feelings directly. It's a sound as beautiful as it is weary, and one that gets better the more involved you become with it.

Beneath the Neon Glow is thoroughly welcoming. It's a dynamic production adorned by polished songcraft, excellent charts, and peerless lyrics.

While it might be nice to see a little more focus on something nearer to a composite sound, Wishy have already got a good thing going on an auspicious debut LP.

This exercise works surprisingly well and, if one is a fan of this genre, F-1 Trillion knocks it out of the park.

Belong rides the line between dreamy songs and noisy nightmares expertly throughout the album. Most of the band's records are best experienced in full, front to back, and Realistic IX is the same but in a different way.

With Paradise State of Mind, Foster the People have made an end-of-summer album full of cathartic grooves.

It's an album that one can't help but to imagine making for impactful concert moments.

The combination of bright, '80s artifice, '90s cynicism, and 2020s uncertainty here works, if the "fun" is often tinged with consternation.

This does not add up to a Great Lost Justin Townes Earle Album. Instead, these bits and pieces he left behind testify to his gifts as a writer and performer, and remind us of just how much was lost when Earle died, as well as demonstrating that someone should have convinced him to do a solo acoustic album.

Devil Rides In is lovingly curated and offers surprises even for listeners who think they know the era's music well.

A Dancefloor in Ndola provides a valuable history lesson, but it also functions as a collection of great, uplifting dance music.

Dune Rats' attempts to kinda sorta reinvent themselves aren't always a roaring success, but none of them are abject failures either. If It Sucks, Turn It Up reveals they can change if they need to, though they are probably most comfortable just being their snotty, weed-addled selves.

Punk without guitars has been done before -- everything has. Few have done it with the blend of skill, imagination, and flat-out commitment that Osees exhibit on SORCS 80.

While there's plenty of dreamy heartache, it's the often bewildering beauty Chrystabell and Lynch achieve on this album that makes it an artistic milestone for both of them.

Sadly, Flight b741 is the first record they've made where it might make more sense to avoid the journey and stick to revisiting some of their glorious excursions of the past instead.