It's this lack of an overall aesthetic that makes Last Night on the Planet feel more like a compilation of singles than a full-fledged album; while the duo's skills are still evident, unfortunately the results aren't as rewarding as before.

This is certainly Long's most substantive release, and also a highlight of the extended Odd Future discography.

It may have been born out of frustration and strife, but Foxhole's inherent peaceful beauty and restraint make it a perfect companion for moments of reflection.

Mandela Effect is certainly more varied than Callus (which, like all Gonjasufi releases, is a heady mix of styles itself), and while it isn't exactly lighter or more listener-friendly, it often seems to get its messages across in more intriguing ways.

Novum is far better than anyone had any right to expect: It's energetic, hungry, and swaggering. That said, it retains the trademark class and musical sophistication that makes Procol Harum iconic.

There is a sameness to the tone and tempo of many of the tracks causing much of the album to blend together, but if the whole affair doesn't quite reach the artistic highs of earlier releases, the band certainly make good on their soothing intent.

This kind of proudly theatrical arrangement would suit Amy Lee well for years, and that's why Synthesis doesn't feel like a holding pattern: It feels like the start of a new chapter.

Redemption resonates because it's simultaneously Bonamassa's most ambitious album and his most impassioned record.

At nine songs, Look Alive never wears out its welcome, and its commitment to sonic versatility, no matter how nostalgia-driven, helps temper some of its more forgettable moments. In evoking the '80s synth pop of their youth, Guster have unearthed a small gem that gives off a familiar, yet undeniably dazzling shine.

Only the folksy "Yani's Song" harkens back to the group's more homespun genesis, but the likable A Blemish in the Great Night, despite housing some significant lyrical undercurrents of discord, retains enough residual heat to keep your feet warm, like a thin wool blanket designed for mild evenings.

It would be nice to hear a more nuanced and stylistically diverse album from Dion (like 2005's Bronx in Blue or 2016's New York Is My Home), but there are more than enough great moments on Stomping Ground to remind us Dion is still a major talent over 60 years after scoring his first hit single.

With the band's help, they've captured a mood on Can We Do Tomorrow Another Day? that's peaceful, easy, and a treat to dip back into whenever the stress of the day-to-day threatens to overwhelm.

Crashing Dream ended the Rain Parade's first era on a note of disappointment, while Last Rays of a Dying Sun begins a new chapter in their story with impressive strength and vision, and finds the Paisley Underground heroes still as gifted and capable as one could hope.

2025's Walk This Road, however, bridges these two eras of the Doobie Brothers, with core members Tom Johnston, Patrick Simmons, and John McFee joined in the studio by Michael McDonald, and the result is album that honors the band's rocking spirit while making room for McDonald's soul-satisfying vocal style.

Despite the preponderance of sprightly tempos and sing-song hooks, nothing about 4:13 Dream feels especially light, perhaps because Robert Smith chooses to pair these purported pop songs with a heavy dose of affected angst.

There's no disguising how Ryan Adams flips Taylor Swift's 1989 upside-down, turning a moment of triumph into bedsit introspection, a concept that is undoubtedly theoretically interesting, but the record works because Adams doesn't play this as a stunt.

Every one of these seem like they could have some kind of potential on the charts, so the fact they were shelved is a bit of a mystery because, when taken together--despite misguided novelties like "If I Told You Who It Was"--it adds up to one of Cash's stronger '80s albums.

Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon is many things--perhaps too many things, but its successes outnumber its failures, and it essentially solves the problems inherent in confining a freeform singer to time signatures and arrangements and rhythms imposed by outsiders.

You'd have to go a long way to hear a better synth pop album, no matter what decade you examine.

Wildewoman can feel a little rote, but to its credit, never dull, due in large part to Wolfe and Laessig's commanding performances.

It's a thrillingly bright and shiny noise pop album that is a positive addition to all the participants' already impressive résumés.

There's no question of Sonic Youth's continued influence on Kinski. But Alpine Static is a progression within the context of the band's own discography, and that's important.

Fallon unapologetically mines bygone eras for inspiration, but he does so with the care of an archaeologist on the biggest dig of his life.

Devil Dirt is almost a carbon copy of Broken Seas in every way (except for the decidedly cheap looking album art). This similarity could be problematic and make the album less impressive or desirable; fortunately, the formula is strong and worth revisiting.

The spontaneity on this set is more akin to a live record than a studio effort, making it a most welcome entry in his catalog.

Though Bleached are still figuring out how to use their newfound clarity, the process finds them generating sparks like never before.

Alternately blissed-out and ragingly psychedelic, this debut is one of 2008's most promising records.

At the age of 64, Emmylou Harris has made an album as fresh and distinctive as any in her catalog, and Hard Bargain is a reminder that her evolution into a songwriter is one of the most pleasant surprises in a career that's produced rewarding music for nearly 40 years.