It's the first truly disappointing album that the band have released and the first where they sound like they are running out of gas instead of hitting on all cylinders.

Ultimately, Saturday Night Wrist is satisfying, though it may take a few listens given all the changes in individual cuts that tend to blur together the first time or two through.

Imitations is a fine collection that reveals the depth of the songs through the openness and considerable skill of the singer.

Even more so than Blunt's previous work, BBF is a difficult, sometimes impenetrable listen, but it's the most powerful statement he's made yet.

In minor contrast to the band's previous effort, the moments of pared-down instrumentation here seem to offer a necessary respite from the intensity, providing necessary moments of calm as we anticipate the next joyous sonic wave.

Ultimately, Tribute to 2 is uneven and fuzzy. When it works, it's lovely; when it doesn't, it's a head-scratcher. This is for fans only.

Additional songwriters and producers, including but not limited to Timbaland, Stargate, Emile Haynie, and Malay, contribute to one or two songs each, but this album maintains a consistency and intensity that places it slightly above the debut.

As it stands, A Thousand Shark's Teeth is beautiful, more than a little insular, and ultimately intriguing for anyone willing to listen closely.

Though his sources remain numerous, this is his most focused, least scattered, and least dilettantish set, and it benefits greatly from its brevity relative to "The Evolution."

Women may not be easy listening, but it is rewarding listening.

This self-titled offering is monster; a masterpiece of tough, psychedelic soul.

Though it is one long cut, Night Gallery is free of noodling or self indulgence; it proves that acid jam is alive and well in the hands of the right musicians.

Diehards who have all of Biophilia's singles may not need this, but it's still a fine collection in its own right.

Darker and more mature than any of the band's previous music, Antipodes sacrifices some of the quirky charm of Popstrangers' earliest work and Happy Accidents' firepower for a strong debut album.

The resulting combos that populate these 15 tracks range from inspired to pleasantly odd, and Wells gets points for simply making situations like this album exist. His knack for conveying mischievousness and warmth are in full effect here, with some songs falling squarely on one side or the other but more often than not aligning in combined magic.

Much like its name, Good Nature is well-meaning and polite, but doesn't do quite enough to distinguish itself.

With its mix of intriguing sounds and occasionally underwhelming songwriting, Always Ascending feels more like a first effort than the band's actual debut did. As it stands, it's a somewhat shaky but promising start for the revamped Franz Ferdinand.

Adult Fear is their third impressive album in a row, one that's essential to hear for anyone who likes hazy, trippy, and unassumingly captivating psychedelia.

Sweating the Plague is best taken as a whole rather than in smaller portions; it works as a clever but swaggering dose of rock & roll, and it plays to this band's strengths while showing how much they've expanded their sonic palette in over three decades...or in a single year, for that matter.

It's a record that may require this kind of attention to detail to fully appreciate, but even absent that, All That Emotion is an elegant exploration of soft atmospheres as well as human behavior.

It revisits familiar electro-pop territory while upping the anguish and explicit content. Essentially a set of danceable power ballads about people who get past the bouncer at the club ("You'll never f*ck somebody hotter"), it may have some cringy, bratty lyrics at first listen (catch also "Joyride"'s anthemically delivered "You were in my dreams/Now I’m in your bed"), but, supported by performances, the raw vulnerability is the point.

While Infinite doesn't eclipse any of Mobb Deep's classic recordings, it's a treat for fans and does not dilute the legacy.

The amount of growth is staggering, and moving from the hazy-headed territory of older Ducktails to songwriting this polished and still pulling it off speaks volumes for the purity of the project's development, as well as Mondanile's refreshed vision as an artist.

The result isn't a muddled mess but another lean and focused set, despite the involvement of several writers and producers.

Not so much a grower as a slow-burning future classic, Forever points to even more exciting things from Holograms as they continue to challenge themselves and expand their vision.

The results should satisfy any post-industrial shaman with warm, slowly developing, and often cavernous synth soundscapes providing the welcoming base.

The Night the Zombies Came is at its best when the band leans into the drama that has always made them stand out from the crowd. "Chicken" is one such moment, a sidewinding mood piece that swings between pride and desperation as wildly as Santiago's twanging, squalling fretwork. However, the album's brightest gem is "Jane (The Night the Zombies Came)."

One thing that remains unchanged, to no surprise whatsoever, is the enduring vitality of the material.