The thing that Kurstin brings to the table is a refinement, letting Paul's ideas shine incandescently while also revealing that a record this clever isn't tossed off, it's crafted in every respect.

Double Negative is a brave and thoughtful collection of songs that lets Low's beating heart scream for its life against a world without compassion, and if it isn't much fun, in 2018 it's truly necessary.

Like contemporaries AFI and Rise Against, age and experience have smoothed out the band's delivery (Skiba's stint with blink-182 could also be a contributing factor), resulting in less danger and gloom. However, Cursed is ultimately an enjoyable ride, packed with rousing anthems.

There's enough variety to excite and warrant repeat listens; however, pacing suffers when the momentum is cut by otherwise pleasant tracks like "Fractured and Dazed" and "Picture Frame." These issues aside, Let's Go Sunshine is a mature progression for the Kooks, one that points in the right direction for the band's evolution.

The tributes come across as affectionate rather than rote. That's due in large part to a distinctive, emphatic voice and lyrics concerned with their own troubles and colorful characters.

Twenty-five years after their debut, they still retain that power, while finding ways to surprise within their firmly defined style.

More a headphones-type album than a radio-friendly one, what emerges are still songs before compositions or productions, though they may appeal to the more explorative indie rockers.

Weed Garden is a nice little diversion, and finds both Beam and the band he oversees at the top of their long-running game.

Muncie Girls have foiled the sophomore slump with Fixed Ideals, and if they sound a bit less D.I.Y. this time out, they still sound like a smart and forceful rock band that can deliver great music while offering plenty of food for thought.

Sultana could stand to edit herself a bit better, but Flow State is unquestionably the work of a first-rate talent with potential, and if anyone is going to teach young women about the innate coolness of the guitar, she seems like just the person to do it.

Monsters Exist retains several hallmarks of the classic Orbital sound, but it isn't an album for '90s rave nostalgia purists pining for another "Belfast" or "Halcyon." Instead, it continues their tradition of making forward-thinking albums which reflect the present but glance excitedly, cautiously, and fearlessly into the future.

The trio is often content to hover, swirl, and dissolve without resolution, saving only the last quarter of the 12-minute title cut for a truly needling rhythm and Wyllie's primal squeal.

Sometimes it's hard to tell if Love, Loss, and Auto-Tune is meant to be some sort of parody of current R&B production techniques, or a conscious effort to upturn Swamp Dogg's music and send it someplace no one would expect to find it. Either way, it's obvious that Swamp Dogg still knows how to write a song, and even at the age of 76, he's still vital, passionate, and eager to throw a curveball at the expectations of anyone and everyone. Talk about Total Destruction to Your Mind.

Bodied is a few tracks longer than necessary, but its best moments are bewildering, and display Ital Tek's continued evolution as a sound designer.

It's a challenging album, especially at close to an hour in length. Its one that holds its share of fascination, however, with its alternately biting and poetic lyrics, persistent ache, and unpredictable patterns that are still discernable if often transient.

Lacking the intensity of her main catalog, Great Thunder plays out more like an addendum that an essential Waxahatchee recording, but the songs are still worth discovery.

The overall effect is warm, unsettling, and artful, but most of all catchy, up to and including the intimate closer, "Moon Like Sour Candy," which ends with a mandate to try.

The Bones do let loose on songs like the disco jam "Got It Bad" and "LivWithOutU," a grooving, straightforward love song. Taken as a whole, though, Young Sick Camellia feels almost like a concept album, one framed by and rooted in a confrontational contemporary reality.

Unrelentingly harsh and moving deliberately away from previously charted territory, Head Cage might disappoint fans looking for a rehash of former styles and statements, but those excited by Pig Destroyer's journey through new forms of despair and hostility will enjoy hearing their hybrid sound continue to mutate.

The album's glitchy title track is sparse yet acutely detailed, and sinister without seeming too evil-minded. Like the rest of the album, it seems curious about the dark side rather than fully possessed.

It's a solid debut, both in terms of its songwriting and textures, with no "for an actress" qualifier warranted.

Besides continuing a trend toward more structured and, at least relatively speaking, more subdued material, it also sees Hernandez step back as frontman for their most democratic effort yet.

The Art of Pretending to Swim is a strong example of how one man with an unlimited number of tracks to fill can create a compelling and revealing collection of songs. If this doesn't always sound like what one would expect from Villagers, its emotional impact shows that it's clearly O'Brien's work.

The whole affair plays like the listener is eavesdropping on Prince creating, and there simply can't be a reissue more valuable than that.

Joyce Manor may still be finding their footing in this more mainstream rock field, but there's a lot to like on Million Dollars to Kill Me, indicating that they're moving in the right direction.

Unlike Summertime: Willie Nelson Sings Gershwin, Nelson's limitations aren't a hindrance, and the arrangements aren't excessively polite, which means My Way is an appealingly light record: it's performed with more affection than reverence.

This is the sound of a working band locking in on their groove.

As a whole, there is plenty of growth, craft, and quality songwriting here even if the approach is more polite than it used to be.