While the first ten songs would have made for a strong return on their own, the final three put Second Chance over the top as one of the year's best R&B albums.

While The Living Infinite is certainly a whole lot of record, it's filled with enough vigor and creativity that it doesn't feel as though it's dragging along.

With 17 incredibly complex songs clocking in at almost an hour, the San Fermin listening experience is a commitment, but one that rewards greatly.

Any Human Friend sounds sleeker and more polished than Hackman's previous releases, but at the same time it takes the playfully libidinous tone of I'm Not Your Man and cranks it up a few levels.

These songs are crafted in the best sense of the word, with the lyrics delivering sublime twists that the music matches. As such, Mental Illness becomes something of a balm for troubled times; it's an album that finds reassurance within the darkest corners.

In the vein of Kevin Rowland or Elvis Costello, Ted Leo writes lyrical rock songs that sprawl out and rarely depend on a chorus.

There's a consistency to the EP that can get lost when a band is trying to work their way toward a longer running time, so although fans might not be getting a big a dose of new Down material as they might crave, they're certainly reaping the benefits of quality over quantity.

It's a resolutely lively and slightly dazed exploration of misshapen pop forms.

If Big Day in a Small Town occasionally feels like nothing more than a collection of great songs that don't quite gel into a larger picture, that's a minor complaint: songs rarely come much better than these.

The Age of Immunology is an idealistic, impressionistic rebuke to Brexit and the other xenophobic movements of the late 2010s. ... On The Age of Immunology, they set this message to beguiling, fantastical soundscapes that are as welcoming as they are unusual.

Balances the adventurous and traditional sides of Tiersen's music in a way that honors the sense of wonder and beauty in his work since the beginning.

Starmaker is a subtle, yet quietly powerful record that feels like it's been hiding in your record collection for decades, just waiting for the right rainy day to make itself known.

Treasure of Love isn't a pathbreaking masterpiece for the Flatlanders, but that's not the sort of album they were likely to make at this point in their lives. Instead, it's an affirmation of their friendship and their love of music, and if you've ever cared about any or all of the group members, this will make you very happy.

The end result is vast and ambitious yet deliberately welcoming. Its many sounds and rhythms greet listeners wherever they are and compel them to invest in an altogether wondrous sonic journey for body, mind, and soul.

Her lilting, rough-hewn cadence carries with it the weight, strength, and spry humor of her homeland, and her storytelling rings true and grounded, even at its most mystic and confounding.

The album, with its loungey, brushed shuffle grooves and sparkling guitar riffs, has its own intoxicating pull borne of the magical, decades-old chemistry between Wareham and Kramer. That's the Price of Loving Me might pull you into a golden vortex of their shared reverie, but it's a small price to pay.

Though there's an element of dark humor to the album -- note "Gamma (need the <3)"'s lyrical reference to Michael Haneke's home invasion satire Funny Games -- there's still a lot of sincere joy expressed in these songs, even if it isn't always obvious on the surface.

Dim Probs is vintage Gruff Rhys and the very simplicity and directness of the album sets it off from the many concepts and schemes of his other, bigger records. Sometimes less truly is more.

This blend of great tracks by well-known bands (add to the list of already mentioned groups a few more like the Three O'Clock, Green on Red, Redd Kross, Cynics, and Long Ryders), strong picks by the really good bands who filled out the ranks, and the occasional left-field surprise (looking at you, Camper Van Beethoven) makes for a collection that serves as a reminder of just how thrilling an age it was to be an open-eared and broad-minded fan of psychedelic and garage music.

While it doesn't always reach Sinning's heights, the deeper sexuality, deeper grooves, and deeper understanding Daniel seeks and finds on Is It Going to Get Any Deeper Than This? make it a triumph in its own right.

Tirzah's music may be volatile, but it's also remarkably consistent; trip9love...??? is the third time in a row that they've turned a handful of sounds and a wealth of ideas into a haunting, forward-thinking album.

Although A Hero's Death does suffer from repetition and a lack of literacy, it remains a fun enough; the mistakes it makes won't deter existing fans of the band, although it doesn't display anything new or exciting enough to propel Fontaines D.C. to any new heights.

Mint Field's gloominess is very real and relatable, and their debut is a truly remarkable work of art.

As it acknowledges current hardships and allow the tiniest glimmer of hope for tomorrow, It Won't Be Like This All the Time proves the Twilight Sad are making some of their most vital music more than a decade into their career.

It wasn't necessarily all that great of a stylistic distance to traverse, but it's certainly been a pleasurable journey. And while there are quite a few extant non-album cuts that might have found space on a more slavishly inclusive comp, what is included here is pretty close to perfect.

Post Self is more moody than direct, and isn't the most hard-hitting, immediate album in the Godflesh catalog, but for anyone who equally appreciates Broadrick's metal and electronic sides, the album is as stunning as one would expect.

Despite the bigger sound on average, however, Baker's brutal lyrical authenticity remains the main attraction.

Central Reservation is first and foremost a record about hope and survival ... but its underlying message of healing and perseverance is powerfully life-affirming -- her music hasn't merely discovered the light at the end of the tunnel, it's now bathing in it.