In spite of its musical intricacy, This Is the Kit remains a relatable portal into the human experience and Off Off On is as appealing as anything Stables has ever released.

The dread that percolates throughout the album comes from the ominous production and burly subject matter, but Daveed Diggs' quick-witted and masterfully controlled flows amplify the anxiety. Like the masked killer in a scary movie, Diggs seems supernaturally several steps ahead at all times.

Burden of Proof finds Benny the Butcher fully formed after years of development and growth. There's even a marked upgrade in production compared to his 2018 outing Tana Talk 3.

Love Is the King is his very personal reaction to an increasingly difficult time in America's history, and while he doesn't pretend to have answers, this music is his own kind of therapy, recognizing his emotions and working through them before they devour him, and he makes both the process and the challenges well worth hearing.

Getting into Knives reminds us he's at the peak of his abilities in the art of record-making, and reminds us it's possible for a band to be brilliant without a shred of arrogance.

Forgotten Days is the album that will likely unite all Pallbearer fans. Its return-to-roots aesthetic is planted in a physical base that carries the band's dark, progressive doom into a new era.

On every track, Minus gives listeners a clear sense of her worldview and balances all the elements of her music with an organic sophistication remarkable for a debut album.

Tracks unloading Actress trademarks like clinking and swarming FX ("Diamond X") and fitful kick-drum jabs ("Leaves Against the Sky") are more alluring and welcoming than usual. Six years after he etched a headstone for music, this enigma has made the easiest point of entry into his catalog.

The combo of the bludgeoning sound, impressively hooky riffs and songs, and masterful, nearly over-the-top performances work together to make unmissable metallic magic.

Inward-looking, mysterious, and awash in found sounds, bucolic electronics, and naturalistic imagery, Don't Shy Away is both inexplicable and compelling, and is easily Loma's most rewarding outing to date.

Razzmatazz is a masterful debut, one that shows promise for a pair of musicians who proudly wear their influences on their sleeves.

Amidon's artistry is on full display on the eponymous album, with its sometimes-uncanny merging of timeless emotions, atmosphere, and musicality.

What's best is that Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny doesn't sound like it was brought into the 21st-century kicking and screaming. It does all that and more, but there's so much mad joy at the helm -- this is a band that would close their shows with a faithful cover of the Alan Parsons Project ballad "Time" while masked and covered in blood -- that the material feels bracing, vital, and rooted in the present.

It's a testament to his vision and do-it-all ability that he can work with roughly 50 fellow producers and guest artists and line up the results for an hour-long set with tracks that flow forth like they're being decanted.

Bonamassa has plenty of opportunity to show his facility with synthesizing different classic guitarists -- there's a bit of Rory Gallagher and Peter Green to offset his Claptonisms -- but the best moment on Royal Tea is "A Conversation with Alice," a chiming bit of soul-pop where he channels the best moments of Steve Marriott.

A pleasing amalgam of propulsive uptempo shoegaze, misty psych-pop, and layered acoustic songwriting, The View from Halfway Down offers an attractive compendium of Bell's accumulated strengths.

It shows Costello's mastery of mood and storytelling, the kind of skill he's acquired over the course of a long career, but the key to Hey Clockface is that these techniques are applied to a record that's as restless as anything Costello made in his younger days.

This time Nothing are in full command of their sound and technique. By adding back the metal and amping up the melodies, the result is an assured and powerful album that delivers on the promise of the group's debut without copying it. Their growth as a band has been faltering at times, but now that they've arrived, it's good to see and wonderful to hear.

Each of the tracks took a while to prepare, as Frusciante would fine-tune synth patches and arrange breakbeats, but the actual recordings were bashed out pretty quickly, and they all maintain that sense of elaborately designed spontaneity, making it easily the artist's most successful electronic work.

At a compact 12 tracks, Music Is the Weapon provides just enough inspiration to get the party started, but it is so good that -- if left on repeat -- it would be enough to fuel an entire night of hedonism.

Although lacking the silly and immature content found in their early output, the group retain their cheeky spirit, using that irreverence to process a society on the verge of collapse in a manner that's still uniquely Puscifer. As the world burns, Keenan and company hold a mirror to the calamity, forcing us to face reality and figure out a way to move forward.

It's a long album but stays on full power for its entirety, with the endlessly catchy songs of alien worlds standing as some of the brightest and strangest material the Rentals have ever delivered.

Dizzee has accomplished a lot in two decades, from pioneering a genre as a hotly tipped teenage prodigy to collaborating with pop stars on chart-topping hits, but his dedication to his craft has never been stronger, and E3 AF is proof of his lasting vitality.

For all of its epic grandiosity, May Our Chambers Be Full only clocks in at a mere 37 minutes, but in doing so leaves a more indelible impression.

Though Sour Cherry Bell delves into gloomier, more despairing moods than Precious Systems, it maintains a balance through radiant energy and never descends into overpowering hopelessness.

It's an album that demands close attention to catch its myriad details, but contradictorily lulls the listener into a state of distraction with its hypnotic pulse and deceptively calm exterior. As a result, the hidden textures and purposefully clashing tones of Fading might not reveal themselves upon first listen, but an album this dense and intentionally drawn just gets better each time it's revisited.

This is avant-punk for the ageless with songs that could appeal to the crustiest post-punk fanatic and those young enough to be living through their first global crisis.

Stapleton could use a bit of Petty's flair -- there's not a lot of humor here, nor are there any flirtations with modern sounds -- but his straight-ahead style nevertheless satisfies on Starting Over.