Fate & Alcohol is the kind of album that gets into your bloodstream and lingers, ever so slightly shifting the way you see the world and your place in it. If it really is the end for Japandroids, it's a farewell that feels like it could go on forever.

A bold and bruising nine-song set befitting an architect of grunge and alternative hard rock.

She uses these songs as a statement of intent, pushing beyond the limitations of the interchangeable rap star persona to show her creative depth, and constructing an album environment where she's able to seamlessly transition between dominating the party and opening up about vulnerabilities.

Ultimately, Bleed is the Necks' most formless, abstract, and focused album, one that that points toward a brave new direction.

The resulting Clouds in the Sky They Will Always Be There for Me finds Porridge Radio still recognizably visceral and volatile but also a little wearier and occasionally resigned, as on the eerie, semi-rambling "In a Dream I'm a Painting" and on penultimate track "Pieces of Heaven."

Free Energy sounds like the work of a band tapping into the well of creativity at its source and coming up with a work that gently and gracefully slides the group up one notch closer to their heroes.

Dance of Love feels like a chapter, not an extension, and that's what makes it such a fresh and enjoyable listen.

Machines I-V is the Bug in pure club damage mode, and it's as heady and powerful as anything else he's done.

Fun, naughty, and a little nasty, 3AM stretches the typical party-friendly novelty sound that Confidence Man perfected on their first two albums, showcasing artistic growth with a laser-focused intent to keep your body moving late into the night, when it feels like anything can (and will) happen.

Cartoon Darkness is a sweaty, visceral thrill, apt for aggressive revelry, driving too fast, and scrapping for the fun of it. It's not a very friendly listen, but that's not the point: confrontational and cathartic, it's existential bloodletting with a warrior's fury and a shredded throat.

The result is a frantic, jarring, and unpredictable effort which darts from breakbeat-fueled mayhem to noisy droning, all framing Elucid's persistent lyrics about caring for his family, struggling for survival and success inside a racist system, and maintaining hope.

Mining her musical upbringing and honoring her myriad inspirations, Halsey comes full circle, connecting her own youth and innocence with intimate adult ruminations on parenthood, aging, and legacy. It's an engrossing homage to the figures that made her into the artist -- and inspiration -- that she has become herself.

Chromakopia is less of a cohesive statement than Tyler's fans are used to hearing; it's erratic and candid at once, a strange pressure cooker of boasts and doubts that falls out of step with its deftly sequenced and thematically tight predecessors. But these are the sounds at the precipice of change -- perhaps it's fitting that Tyler can't quite package himself as neatly this time around.

With Planet Nowhere, Razorlight have made an album of catchy, no-nonsense anthems that capture the fizzy, garage-rock swagger of their best work.

This is the album Lone Justice should have been allowed to make in 1983, and in 2024 it remains music full of heart, soul, and passion. It was worth the wait.

It's fine work from a great songwriter who is following his passions while he can, and that makes it special.

With Last Leaf on the Tree, Willie Nelson and Micah have crafted a relaxed album of subtle virtuosity, as if every song could be the last.

A triumphant live album, Resuscitate! is as much a celebration of the evolution of Callahan's music as it is the shared experience between musicians and audience.

Much like on her debut, every song here offers its own treasures, and Heynderickx still sounds like no one else.

The Crying Out of Things is a powerful high point in the Body's massive discography.

On Nite Owls, he manages to pull all of these varied experiences and influences together in a cohesive way that's unmistakably his own.

Her longest LP to date, it's also one of her most satisfying, engaging, and exciting. No matter which direction she chooses, Poppy has yet to disappoint.

She's clearly having fun, making the music she wants to make and exploring new facets of her craft. Hopeful, romantic, and energetic, Armatrading offers a strong dose of joy in troubled times.

The Way Out of Easy equals its predecessor, but it also extends the quartet's musical vocabulary and sonic identity. While they may not be able to play ETA any longer, their musical signature and group communication prove they can make magic anywhere.

It's a lavish, well-considered and executed set that makes for quite the splurge for a Beatles fan with a nice phonograph set.

Live in Keele 1977 is one of the better entries in the Can live series, proving that their on-stage power was still in full effect, even as they were approaching the end of their run.

Though all of the players were experienced professionals on-stage at this point, the collective energy that they created together was still relatively new, and Live at Fillmore East, 1969 offers an unvarnished view of that very specific excitement, along with the humanizing jitters and joviality that came along with it.

Fever Longing Still leaves no doubt that he hasn't lost his touch, and it's a treat for anyone who has ever loved his work -- or even for folks who've never heard him before.