Though there are a few more abstract pieces -- like the brief, scattered "Got Me" -- as a whole, The Sunset Violent focuses on impressionistic snapshots and daydream-like reflections. It's easily the most unified record Mount Kimbie has produced, especially in stark contrast to their previous effort.

If the individual songs don't quite differentiate themselves, that's not precisely a detriment, as King is on an explicit interior journey, ensuring that his music mimics his moods. He doesn't avoid darkness, but he chooses not to wallow, finding instead a measure of peace in the emotional expression itself.

One Deep River doesn't necessarily break new ground for Knopfler, but it does add a clutch of well-written, impeccably played songs to his canon.

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.

The album was produced by if i could make it go quiet's Matias Tellez (AURORA, Gracie Abrams), whose colorful, high-contrast approach bolsters the lyrical frankness of the onetime bedroom pop artist, who, true to her origins, keeps the ten-song set's playing time under 30 minutes.

Hawkwind still sound like themselves and nobody else on Stories from Time and Space, and if it doesn't break new ground, it's the work of a band with interesting ideas and the talent and imagination to make something of them, which not many groups can manage, let alone one that's been doing this for more than half a century.

Rampen contrasts Neubauten's hard and soft sides, recalling the spontaneity and inventive instrumentation of their beginnings, but framing them in a more mature and hopeful perspective.

Tarantula Heart's five tracks contain more than an album's worth of weirdness and power. It's a wild ride, even for the Melvins, and further solidifies their status as seemingly invincible practitioners of heavy, messed-up music.

At times, the mood is so sustained that the album resembles one slowly evolving song. At its finest, though, Dream Talk is an alluring reminder of the power of visions and fantasies from a group that's mastered how to bring them to life.

Unlike such fine latter-day Hunter albums like Shrunken Heads, there's not a driving theme behind Defiance, but there doesn't need to be. The fact that Hunter can sound this tuneful, sharp, and engaged when he's well into his eighties is a triumph worth celebrating.

It's rough-around-the-edges fun, with the warmth of familiarity and kinship that Neil Young & Crazy Horse have built by playing together for more than half a century.

An easygoing grower that digs deeper with each successive listen, Radical Optimism doesn't need to be Future Nostalgia 2.0; it's the sound of an artist enjoying life and exploring new directions as she continues to hone her craft.

Pokey LaFarge manages to show off some depth and have a lot of fun at the same time on Rhumba Country, and listeners should have a ball right along with him.

The ten-song set is a non-stop whirlwind of chugging, downtuned riffs, urgently screamed vocals, and machine-gun drum performances pushed to the front of the mixes.

Something about I Am Jordan feels a bit moderated, because even though it's a fun, celebratory record, it doesn't always hit the ecstatic highs that it's shooting for. Still, even if it isn't chock-full of wall-to-wall bangers, it's certainly an inspired effort that charts Jordan's growth as an artist and as a person.

By the orchestral, Chelsea Girl-evoking beauty of final track "Why Worry," Campbell has spent the album flitting from idea to idea, ending up with a sampler pack of different stylizations of her always lovely (if not always simple) songcraft.

The album may have been written during a dark night of the soul but it was recorded with precision and concentration, ultimately obscuring the pain at the point of origin. It's an approach that hardly does a disservice to either Shultz or Cage the Elephant: it gives Neon Pill an alluring, subdued pulse that soothes instead of stirs.

Cleveland's vocals are unfortunately low in the mix and it's often difficult to make out the lyrics, but approached simply as another instrument in the ensemble, her soft, breathy tone is lovely and enigmatic, and the layers of echoey guitars and '60s-style keyboard sounds blend wonderfully with her vocals.

At times, Dream of Delphi's soothing yet awestruck moods play more like a soundtrack than a set of songs, but those who savor Khan's powers of expression as much as her art pop savvy will find a lot to love here.

The album carries a lightness that's emphasized by its brisk running time. That might mean The Border, unlike A Beautiful Time, doesn't quite feel like a final chapter but rather a welcome coda restating Nelson's strengths with casual ease.

Generally apologetic, reassuring, and hopeful, Chaos Angel is a comforting album that features some of Hawke's hookiest and most self-assured material yet.

I Hear You varies in quality, with some songs clearly more successful than others, but overall, it's a fun, adventurous record confirming Peggy Gou's status as one of the more distinctive figures in club music.

Goat Girl's wealth of ideas is one of their biggest strengths, but Below the Waste lacks the focus that united their music into a cohesive whole on On All Fours.

Keep Me on Your Mind/See You Free is state-of-the-art contemporary pop-folk, and with each LP Bonny Light Horseman deliver stronger work; deciding to put their songwriting chops to work may be the smartest thing they've done to date.

Kaytranada continues to refine his sample-laced mixture of house, compas, hip-hop, and other cross-continental styles of dance music with Timeless.

Tunes such as "Rainlines," "Dolphin Spray," and the amusingly titled "Cafe del Mars" are among his prettiest and most straightforward, respectively, dealing out throbbing and knackered house, intimate dancehall, and vaporous techno. The few purely ambient pieces, highlighted by "Doves Over Atlantis," are almost as evocative.

Though most of What Happened to the Heart? lands in a dance-pop middle ground stylistically, ballads like the Brazilian-flavored "The Essence" and synth-enhanced "Dreams" offer room to breathe with their drum-less or drum-light arrangements.

Rather than a succinct return to form, As It Ever Was is quite dense, occasionally getting in its own way in trying to do a bit of everything. For that reason, it might not be the record that earns them scads of new listeners, but for longtime fans, there is a lot to love.