Striking a balance between hypnotic pop and cloudy soul-searching, the album delivers all the ends of the spectrum Lennox has spent years perfecting, giving fully realized and refreshingly jubilant examples of a type of pop music so distinctive to its creator, he ends up in a class by himself.

Vulnicura honors her pain and the necessary path through and away from loss with some of her bravest, most challenging, and most engaging music.

They do what they do quite well and this cohesive debut should win them plenty of fans.

Easily the most joyful and extroverted of Lipstate's albums at this point, it also feels the most vibrant and engaging, gracefully exposing a world of endless blissful layers for the audience to stargaze upon.

Ultimately, Young Ejecta play with intimacy and distance, loss and rebirth in such compelling ways on The Planet that it feels more like an introduction than a continuation.

There are a lot of bands working this angle in the early 2010s; Pinkshinyultrablast is one of the best, and their debut album shows exactly why.

Altogether, the material is mature, technically proficient as ever, lively, and sounds rough and real; it’s hard to imagine Individ won’t be a hit with fans, intermittent or long-standing.

Still buried neck deep in love for Flying Nun, still snappy and poppy, but just a little bit weirder, a little more powerful musically and emotionally, and a little more satisfying for the incremental change.

Completely unrelenting; thoroughly amazing.

Ultimately, it's just this kind of self-flagellating, dark-hued rock aesthetic that's worked for Papa Roach for well over a decade, and despite whatever passing styles or trends in pop music they've ignored in the process, it's a sound that seems to be working for them.

This is the kind of subtle record unlikely to make immediate waves, but with a staying power that will call for repeated listens.

The Punch Brothers sound as comfortable nimbly skipping through classical pieces as they do creating oddly shaped bluegrass-prog--and as they do creating sparkling pop miniatures like "Magnet" and "Between 1st and A." By both capturing and fusing these two sides, The Phosphorescent Blues stands as a defining record for an admittedly restless band.

Matador may initially seduce with its slow, enveloping assurance but the reason it lasts are those songs, as exquisitely crafted and enduring as anything in Coombes' rich catalog.

As a companion album or on its own two legs, Fears Trending was worth another trip to well.

Though the album loses a little focus after its near-flawless first half, Shake Shook Shaken is the Dø's finest work yet and a pointed and poignant document of change and its aftermath.

The results are more intriguing than a mere collection of odds 'n' sods or remixes.

Without many spikes in volume or energy level, these murmuring songs generate an undeniably powerful radiance, breaking down doors creatively despite their understated trappings.

Runners in the Nerved World is a step forward on the path toward a new approach that was clearly the Sidekicks' new focus on Awkward Breeds, and if this band doesn't rock as hard, they sound intent and committed on these songs, and this is the work of musicians who know where they're going and what they intend to find.

My Garden is a mix of colorful party anthems and substantive, pull-no-punches ballads with warmth beneath the surface.

Even if Alkan's association may suggest something more banging, this debut is perfect for overcast afternoon sessions or anytime the head is melancholy while the feet crave movement.

Neatly tied together by opening and closing cuts that include Stevie Wonder on harmonica, because Ronson could swing it, Uptown Special is another nostalgic fantasy that provides light entertainment and provokes backtracking.

G Stands for Go-Betweens is a labor of love, carefully put together by Forster with obvious affection, and essential for any fan of the band, especially those who treasure their tumultuous formative years over their more full-formed, yet still quite tumultuous, later period.

How to Die in the North is an undeniably tasty dish, served hot or cold.

The album might scare off some fans who were reeled in by his perky pop songs, but it might find a home with those who like their pop seriously murky and gray.

Like most of the delightfully bleak Nervous, it's both dense and impossibly airy, like a storm cloud about to blow.

In its own way, Inherent Vice is as subtly and carefully crafted as Greenwood's other scores for Anderson's films, but its wit and heart make it special in its own right.

Moonlight is a step in the right direction, though, and it's nice to hear him stretch out creatively.

Viet Cong were a group full of promise on their debut EP, Cassette, and with their harder, heavier, and more powerful debut album, they're making it clear they have the talent and smarts to become a major force in Canada's indie community.