Ultimately it doesn't matter because hearing him play fresh material is a bit of a gas and certainly welcome after many years of Christmas and covers records.

Nobody else can sing like Jerry Lee and it remains a pleasure to hear him sink his teeth into nearly any song, especially when he's supported by a team as sympathetic as he is here.

Just like Kendrick's stunning Good Kid, M.A.A.D City, Under Pressure is an autobiographical and odds-beating debut that arrives more fully formed than expected. Maybe all those mixtapes were all called Young Sinatra because the best was yet to come.

Chamberlain sounds like he's exorcizing some demons with Sleepwave, and he's doing so in the style that comforts him the most.

Even when London muddles quasi-philosophical gibberish and pro-fellatio sentiments on "Water Me," the hooks and basslines dig deeper. It's more creative, too.

The album won't take the place of anyone's day job, but it is a nice diversion for all involved.

These are brightly produced songs perfectly suited to Midler's vocal style, stage bravado, and cheeky sense of humor.

Dark, beautiful, and deft, Natural Selection should only be played at night, but it should be played on most nights, and maybe on some rainy, especially hazy afternoons.

At its best Tētēma is just as intelligent and compelling as Patton's collaborations with John Zorn; hopefully Patton and Pateras will have more dangerous visions for us all in the future (if there is one).

Beauty and humanity may have entered the picture, but the welcoming A/B Til Infinity was still more willing to connect, so consider that to be a first encounter, then come here for a more refined reduction of Egyptrixx's excellent off-world techno.

As the record progresses, the band explores psyched-out stoner metal ("Beelzebub"), blasting traditional hardcore ("All Hail"), and sludgy, hypnotic grooves ("Dusted"), but regardless of style, the songs seethe with a declarative sense of loss and anguish, feeling like a true reflection of challenging times and a band of friends trying to make it to the other side, together.

The Ruffian's Misfortune shows the man is doing some of the very best work of his career 40 years on, and anyone who cares about American roots music in any form would do themselves a favor by adding this set to their collection.

As they navigate these darker emotional waters, it's hard not to wonder what Hemming and his crew would sound like if they loosened their collars just a bit.

She's blurring the lines between R&B and Brill Building, soul and girl group pop, coming up with a vivid, spirited record that ranks among her very best.

The production sound is also very Strokes-esque, with Shudall's vocals often layered with a delicate haze of fuzzy EFX à la Strokes frontman Julian Casablancas. That said, the comparison might be a bit more of a critique were it not for the sheer high quality and infectious nature of Circa Waves' songs.

Crosswords is essentially outtakes from PBVSGR (with one cut left over from Tomboy), and while it's clearly more of the same, it's an enjoyable, compact dose of chilled, effervescent electro-psych-pop, and it functions as a handy reminder of how far Lennox has come as a songwriter.

He's a singer that can make quiet seem compelling, and there are plenty of instances in this tight, wholly satisfying record where he demands attention by not asking for it.

Ultimately, Of Desire finds the KVB in transition, moving toward a more inventive approach that delivers some of their finest work along the way.

There's that sense of uncertainty on the entire album, which serves as both an extended trip down memory lane and, perhaps, a goodbye. But whether this is simply a bookend before a new phase or a complete finish is up in the air. Either way, Stories for Monday is a total celebration.

Take All My Loves: 9 Shakespeare Sonnets reaffirms that the songwriter/composer is an arranger at home in many styles, with the ability to make this kind of sprawling, genre-surfing project unfold with elegance.

Higher Authorities doesn't seem to have any ambitions beyond being an informal extracurricular venture, but it sounds decent and trippy enough.

Frothing with haze and sultriness, Luck or Magic is unlikely to either surprise or disappoint established fans, and likely to seduce, in general.

Concrete Confessional can be borderline silly in its saltiness, but it's the best kind of comfort food, even if it breaks your jaw.

Wrong Crowd is a far more sprightly affair that not only takes smart stylistic detours, it often treats malaise with a wink instead of a sigh.

Inspiring and forward-looking, this album proves that at 25, Katatonia are still restless and refuse to rest on their laurels.

Considering the emotional arc of this mix, it seems likely that the listener will have fallen asleep crying by that point. There's some fine music on it, but it's not recommended if you're expecting pleasant dreams.

This is obviously not meant to attract new fans, but one to re-engage longstanding ones. It's a mixed bag, but its experimentation works more often than not, while the new songs suggest Heart's creativity is undiminished.

Vacancy charts a tumultuous journey through Raneri's relatable struggles, providing a kindred spirit and mouthpiece for anyone who has ever been burned by love.