A Light for Attracting Attention bests The Eraser as Yorke's finest non-Radiohead effort and falls somewhere amongst A Moon Shaped Pool and King of Limbs in terms of scope and daring. As such, diehards should be quite pleased with this release: an utterly satisfying set of songs that stands tall on its own, yet could easily climb the ranks against any of Radiohead's late-era efforts.

With a title partly inspired by a surrealist collage by Eileen Agar and partly by the Biblical Jacob's Ladder, it was produced by Tom Carmichael, Porridge Radio drummer Sam Yardley, and singer and songwriter Dana Margolin, who continues to evoke artists like Sarah Mary Chadwick and Torres here with her raw and passionate vulnerability.

Listeners with an aversion to the zeitgeist razzle-dazzle and rambunctious frivolity are very well served. "Why Try" and "No ID," located in the middle, are supple disco-funk throwbacks; the latter is as bubbly-tough as anything off Evelyn "Champagne" King's first album (if with 2022 attitude). They lead to a second half where the madness is mostly mellow.

Mavis Staples and Levon Helm were two artists who were also friends and admirers, and they knew how to bring out the best in one another, and that's exactly what they do on Carry Me Home, and it's a thing of beauty to witness.

The album is warmer, friendlier, and fuller than anything Hardware has presented before, yet somehow just as emotionally naked.

Cave-In have crafted a dense (over 70-minutes long) and rewarding work that's both mindful of the past and focused on the horizon.

A Legacy of Rentals captures him at the peak of his powers. It's art wrought from real life which is all the more devastating for it's easy recognizability.

Regards / Ukłony dla Bogusław Schaeffer reveals itself as an inspired tribute to Schaeffer and another fine example of how Matmos' circular interplay of invention and reinvention remains exceptional.

Cruel Country, however, feels as unified and well plotted as anything in Wilco's catalog, and it's deeply moving, powerfully heartfelt music from a handful of gifted players serving their songs beautifully.

Much of Face the Wall brings to mind the kind of ebullient, instant-classic indie pop that filtered through college rock stations in the 1990s. Think something along the lines of Juliana Hatfield improbably crossed with Liz Phair and Enya and you'll get a sense of the giddy, buoyant vibe she captures here.

Adding to an already impressive list of achievements, HAAi's first full-length is a stunner.

That McRae also manages to bring a hooky sense of pop joy to the album speaks to her growing maturity as an artist.

Stars' endlessly detailed arrangements are as impressive as ever, and become more powerful in the context of these highly reflective songs. Stars fearlessly investigate difficult feelings on From Capelton Hill, and capture a complex beauty in the process.

It's clear that they miss their friend and the pain of carrying on without him is crushing. That they manage to convey those feelings to the listener in such a pleasantly sweet fashion is a credit to them as a group and the album takes them from just another (albeit really good) chirpy indie pop band to one ready for the big leagues, sonically and emotionally.

Rather than offering something for everyone, Big Time wrangles complex, overwhelming emotions with a broad palette that's commanded by its lyrics and tormented vocal performances.

On Madness as a whole, Poliça were evolving even when the world seemed to come to a standstill.

Love conquering all can sometimes be a hackneyed notion, but here Fantastic Negrito makes it feel earned.

While the rap-preferring fans will still gravitate to his first two efforts, listeners with an appreciative ear for his genre-sampling maturation into the mainstream will find Twelve Carat Toothache to be a fascinating emotional exploration of a conflicted artist who can't help but churn out star-making hits at the expense of his own happiness.

Not only is it nice for long-time fans of his work, it gives those looking for someone making these kinds of desperately beautiful, painfully human songs a new artist to discover and love.

This Is Brian Jackson's music is timeless, a musical montage reflecting his multi-disciplinary immersion in jazz, funk, soul, and hip-hop, without sacrificing the focus, generosity, inspiration, and openness that have been at the very heart of his music all along.

If 40 oz. to Fresno isn't the most ambitious entry in Joyce Manor's discography, it is at least one of their most enjoyable.

Shearwater have crafted their most resolute, or shall we say Shearwatery, effort to date.

Fueled by the long-promised light at the end of the tunnel after the COVID-19 lockdown, it's also the band's most vibrant and accessible outing to date.

Mercury cuts to a deeper emotional core than the Range's previous work, and it's easily the producer's most successful release to date.

Where Womb felt like the closing of a chapter, graves feels like a promising rebirth for Purity Ring.

Magic Pony Ride is more comforting than challenging, but it's still highly enjoyable, providing a unique view on family life from an artist who has remained inventive for several decades.

The language Halvorson constructs on Amaryllis is lush yet balanced and symmetrical. Her harmonic core, though fluid, offers a generous tonal palette for ensemble players and soloists alike, no matter who ultimately converses with who, while her melodies are simultaneously memorable, complex, and thought-provoking.

Belladonna is as lighthearted as it is provocative. Halvorson's love of wide tonalities and intricate harmonic interplay are anchored by sophistication and a healthy dose of wry humor. She weaves them together in five pieces that nearly sing.