Dark Matter is streamlined and purposeful, never overstaying its welcome on either the ballads or rockers. While that can be a slight detriment with on the album's loudest number--combined, the sleek sound and concise compositions give the faintest suggestion of restraint--the efficiency is ultimately to the band's benefit, highlighting their empathetic interplay by pushing melodies and hooks to the forefront.

Rose is arguably still at her best on the more intimate balladry, such as on album highlights "Dusty Frames," with its rippled, watery effects, and the brittlely resilient title track. Nothing here, though, is a misfire, as Rose deftly navigates these new approaches.

While that song ["No One"] is hard-hitting enough to count as a standout, One Million Love Songs is nothing if not consistent, with 11 gifts for the lonely-hearted.

Final Summer is another strong album from a remarkably consistent band, but it's the wisdom, maturity, and joy Cloud Nothings bring to it makes it an especially satisfying listen.

The Other Side is one of T-Bone Burnett's warmest and most emotionally resonant works, and if it's less ambitious than the Invisible Light albums, it's a powerful example of what he does best as a songwriter, a vocalist, and a producer.

Blue Eclipse is fully realized, a 12-track, groove-intensive set that's so smooth and delicious it's a top candidate for the summer soundtrack of 2024.

Most bands don't sound as fresh, confident, and willing to take chances three decades into their career as the Old 97's do on American Primitive; they've quietly but firmly matured into one of America's best roots rock acts.

It's a richly orchestrated, superbly crafted effort that veers between several different emotional states before its time is up.

Beam has done this kind of thing before, but he seems to be digging a little deeper lyrically here, while crafting arrangements that are truly lush and lovely, better than any on previous Iron & Wine albums. That's a high bar, but he soars over it with plenty of room to spare, and in the end Light Verse turns out to be one of the most enjoyable, varied, and well-crafted of the band's records.

There's no fat, no excess, so the craft that services the emotion is difficult to deny.

Throughout the album, otherworldly touches -- loops, processed acoustic instruments, imperfect multi-tracked vocals, echo -- work effectively alongside sighed deliveries and fingerpaint-like lyrics that capture the emotions of otherwise fragmented memories.

Wiggle Your Fingers' ten songs are canny and beautifully executed pastiches of West Coast soft rock, sunshine pop, jangle pop, and polished psychedelia, and he's even moved forward enough to add a dash of new wave to the formula, as evidenced in the slightly angular keyboards on "Second Chance" and the power-pop crunch of "The Dropouts."

The slow crawl through the nightmarish "Murder of Sunrise" doesn't need to be 17 minutes long, but otherwise, That Delicious Vice finds Kid Congo Powers going from strength to strength as a frontman, and holds a special place in his stellar resumé.

He doesn't merely juxtapose instruments and sounds, he painstakingly combines them, bringing joy, intensity, political, social, and spiritual poignancy in a vision at once focused, restless, and playful.

Setting its heavy heart aside, the album still affects with an emotional roller coaster of musical material, recommended together for a good dance-cry.

Reasonable Woman gets Sia back on track, joining Fear and Acting as one of the most compelling and listenable efforts in her post-breakthrough catalog -- a huge relief for anyone who thought she had lost her touch.

Though much tighter and more adventurous musically, the unified approach on Pull the Rope recalls the ambitious scope of Ibibio's eponymous debut while their songwriting expresses pain, hope, joy, desire, and struggle with sophistication and verve.

It's tempting to want these songs to have the space to breathe. Nevertheless, McMahon always takes his music wherever it needs to go, and Death Jokes is the bracing sound of Amen Dunes actively engaging with the world and its problems.

In "Mustangs," which asks, "Are you a mustang or a kitty?" Your desire to answer that question may or may not depend on how deeply you spark to the album. Yet, the lyric is playful, Pop Art-provocative, and speaks to the joy, sweat, and poetic inspiration coursing through all of Can We Please Have Fun.

More than a reductive "Zayn goes country" album, the beautiful Room Under the Stairs is the sound of an artist trying something brave and new, tapping into his soul and coming out on the other side with the strongest album of his career to date.

To All Trains is almost certainly the final Shellac album, but it isn't a maudlin curtain call. It's a document of a happily uncompromising band living out their vision and loving their art, and on that level, it's as good a place as any to appreciate their (and his) singular brilliance. And it rocks.

The lyrics of Dadadi's carnival-ready "Jigi Jigi" acknowledge the sounds of several disparate lands, and Nana Budjei's "Asobrachie" has a strong digital reggae rhythm. Best of all is "Barima Nsu" by Kwasi Afari Minta, an equally hypnotic and haunting ten-minute whirlwind that instantly feels like a lost classic.

Weller sounds looser and lighter on 66 than he did in the recent past, a shift that adds warmth and playfulness to his wisdom.

Though its songs about a world falling apart were difficult for DIIV to make, Frog in Boiling Water is their most cohesive work. It's a true slow burn of an album, capturing listeners by degrees and echoing the band's subtle yet dramatic growth since Oshin.

Staples is in top form on Dark Times. It's another chapter of his uniquely smoke-colored narratives, form-fitting production, and perfectly balanced expressions of heaviness and acceptance.

Stylistically, Kravitz may not be trying anything new, but his decision to prioritize good vibes above all else generates an unusually satisfying record from the rocker.

Twenty One Pilots tie a bow on a fascinating narrative that has captured the imagination of a legion of fans around the globe. Fortunately for listeners unaware of the backstory, the songs are reliably catchy and intriguing enough to grab their attention, too.

This is one of the most rewarding and indulgent releases in Bring Me the Horizon's post-Sempiternal era, a big payoff for fans willing to delve into the lore and a pure thrill for anyone who likes to feel heavy music both in spirit and body.