On Worship the Sun, their subtle excavation is even more impressive, richly rendered, and worth checking out than before.

Fantasy isn't for the skeptical; Gonzalez demands you dive in with him, and a lot of fans will be happy to take the plunge.

Frankie Rose and the Outs have made a record that put her old band the Vivian Girls to shame, and instead of proving to be bandwagon jumpers, they instead made a record other girl pop bands can emulate and someday hope to equal.

Let’s Be Still engages the most when it tiptoes outside of its comfort zone.

The most remarkable aspect of the Game is how he can be such a blatant product of gangsta rap (okay, let's say fanboy) and leave a mark so fast.

This stands as a very good album by Keyshia Cole, also the point where Cole's voice grows from an occasionally powerful emotive device into a versatile instrument.

Listening to the Naked and Famous' guttingly good 2011 full-length debut, Passive Me Aggressive You, one thing is clear: this band loves a hot chorus.

Plenty of hot air pushes it forward, while cold steel keeps it on the ground, just like the kinetic, magnetic Paz.

Somewhere between slumber party and rock & roll church service, Electricity by Candlelight captures a truly special moment in the life of one of American music's most valuable songwriters, and gives a warm and welcoming window into his own inspirations.

With a purported 30 songs to pick from, the Magic Numbers ultimately boiled everything down to 11 of the group's most solidly engaging cuts to date.

Just as you think the trio are going to lock up legs and topple over, they fall into a gorgeous minor-key stride and dissipate into a sweepingly ominous mid-song bass solo. Ultimately, it's these moments of dazzling group dynamics that help make Man Made Object a jazz-infused work of art on GoGo Penguin's own terms.

Opus, the album, is keenly constructed and an excellent beginning-to-end journey in spite of its size.

Like its predecessor, God Don't Never Change reflects the enduring, mercurial influence of the artist, but also the weight the Christian gospel imposes on questions of the human condition as it encounters suffering, joy, mercy, loneliness, death, and resurrection.

Certainly, Is This the Life We Really Want? lacks the straightforward narrative or melodic thrust of The Wall, but it isn't as somnolent as The Final Cut, and if the songs don't call attention to themselves, they nevertheless form a long suite that works as a sustained mood piece.

Baby Grand is as ambitious as we've come to expect from the Love Language, and as successful in its grasp of thoughtful, artfully crafted pop music.

Nas is more ruminative and measured, like he's found his stride again, even as he flagrantly contradicts himself and waylays men and women with relationship advice that rings hollow. Going strictly by the conviction and feeling in each line, King's Disease is the MC's best work since 2008.

Fittingly, it feels almost more nostalgic than modern. Young's voice quivers slightly and by supporting himself with just a guitar, he seems slightly fragile, a quality that gives these simple, straightforward covers a subtle new dimension.

The result has a warm, organic feel that meshes comfortably with Ringo's country influences without forcing the issue or sounding like the typical Nashville product of the 2020s. This music is mature in feel and outlook, in the best ways.

Visitations may not be as immediate as Walking with Thee or Winchester Cathedral, but that's exactly what makes it intriguing -- and a welcome return to form.

The overall pace, sequence, and vibe of Back to Land finds the Shjips teetering on the edge of classic rock mania with enough restraint to keep things minimal, mystical, and interesting throughout.

It's a sprawling effort with an over-70-minute running time, but also a haunting one, recommended for musically adventurous stargazers of all types.

Tthe songs on Noise all fit nicely and naturally into a well-considered larger statement, making it one of Boris' most captivating and all-encompassing efforts in their abundant and colorful oeuvre.

Though they should've rocked out a couple times for some variation, Personal Life is a good example of a band growing up without growing old.

Halstead gets closer to creating music that transmits his bare soul to the listener without much sonic trickery to get in the way. In the wrong hands, such a Spartan approach could end up boring, but in Halstead's case, it's completely transfixing and true.

There aren't many surprises here, for better or worse, and it's a pleasant, straightforward collection of reliably rocking jams.

Violent Hearts is a resoundingly successful debut that puts the band right at the front of the line of all the reverb-heavy, backward-looking indie pop bands that overran the music scene like seagulls on the beach at low tide in the early part of the decade.

Big Boi adapts to the unfamiliar surroundings with little effort and often sounds comfortable, but the fusions are short on power.

Not as cohesive as The Salvation Blues, Many Colored Kites is still a worthy and brave album that finds Mark Olson continuing to find new ways of sharing what life has taught him through his music.