What a Time to Be Alive is also a worthy hang session from MCs Drake and Future, one that feels instant, spontaneous, and just messy enough to keep off the top shelf.

Negative Feedback Resistor is music made to smash the state--or at the very least deafen the enemies of the people.

Polaris is the record that Tesseract have been working toward. The evolved maturity of their writing, playing, and arranging is matched by the experience and confidence Tomkins gained while away.

Overall, Half Free straddles a neat balance between bittersweet pop hooks and murky, adventurous production.

[A] rare, pleasingly unfiltered debut that captures an exciting upcoming artist with little refinement.

Better Nature suggests Silversun Pickups have an interesting future ahead of them as their sound evolves, and as for Billy Corgan--hey, buck up, buddy, you and the Pickups had a good run for a while.

As "The Reverend" closes things with another shot of the band at its finest, it underscores that even an inconsistent Eagles of Death Metal album is still a lot of fun.

While the album is unrelentingly positive and clean-cut--a relief for listeners who winced at the lurid content laced through Discipline and certain earlier points in the discography--it's a little erratic in style and quality.

Foam Island is a curious, enjoyable album that abundantly showcases Darkstar's tendencies for experimentation as well as pop songwriting.

On Women's Rights they also show they can crank out some lean, tuneful punk rock, and this album is a smart, unpretentious good time on any number of levels.

Whereas the original Run the Jewels 2 was a perfect soundtrack for a night of mayhem, Meow the Jewels is the comedown after all that rabble-rousing.

Fans need not worry; colorful, variously world music-infused, psychedelic, and ultra-rhythmic, I Need New Eyes retains Larry Gus' somewhat warped artfulness, and the relatively more coherent presentation may attract at least a few more willing ears.

Every other record in their catalog hinted at their further development as a metal unit; this one doesn't. Trivium are using the building blocks of metal to pursue a wider, more nuanced, musical direction.

Mild High Club doesn't try too hard and avoids indulging in cloying weirdness, resulting in an enjoyable, naturally flowing album.

The Color Before the Sun is not the band's best record, but it is utterly inspired and almost nakedly sincere. It will likely play well to fans, but even more importantly, perhaps attract new ones.

Approach it as a much more relaxed, refined, and ethnobeat version of St. Germain.

Even though Tape Loops feels cold and wintry and with a hint of melancholy or regret, it's still a soothing, reflective, refreshing listen.

Sermon on the Rocks is an album where Josh Ritter allows himself to have some fun while showing that his skills as a songwriter have emerged unscathed after his divorce, and it suggests that his future is as bright as ever.

It sounds street smart and thoughtful as it acknowledges past glories and the slowly narrowing road that lies ahead.

Peppered with swears and PG-13 imagery, not all of Return to the Moon is radio-friendly, but it is ear-friendly, even at its most earnest or wry.

Its wider emotional range and stylistic switch-ups, none of which is outside Newman's grasp, give it a slight edge.

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.

The production on II is cleaner than on Fuzz's first studio album without ironing out the nooks and crannies of the band's sound (the report of Moothart and Ubovich's amps is just as fierce and buzzy as ever), and listeners who resonate to Iommic frequencies will get a righteous shake from this music.

The album's widescreen sound and bone-fracturing impact leave no doubt that Killing Joke are still deeply committed to what they do, and it's genuinely remarkable that they're still sounding this furious and effective 35 years after their debut album.

Overall, the release is a surreal, unpredictable excursion, and it finds the duo continuing to venture further outside the styles of their main projects, tapping into their subconscious minds in order to create striking dreamscapes.

It feels true to who he is today: an entertainer who is happy to reveal part of his heart because he now knows there's an audience who cares.

They may not be the kind of band to curl up with on a rainy night anymore, but they make the leap to a poppier, more expansive sound with stylish grace and keep just enough of the mystery intact to stay interesting.

Whereas The Light the Dead See was a simple addition of Gahan's lyrics to the Soulsavers' music, this is a fully cohesive collaboration, with both artists sharing songwriting credits on all songs.