Other One feels like it was pulled through a wormhole from a universe where a committee writes Babymetal's metallic pop emissions, intent on flowing with the current instead of against it.

While it's admirable that they're not content to simply rehash older material, the riskier new material sometimes hits its mark and sometimes flops. The edgier tracks on Different Game will appeal to die-hard fans and those following the Zombies' entire journey, but might register as confusing for casual listeners. As ever, all the surrounding details are reduced to afterthoughts whenever Blunstone sings.

More than anything else, In Pieces is a strong showcase for Chlöe as a vocal dynamo, as much of the material is hollow, lacking distinction.

The Who integrate the orchestra quite seamlessly throughout the performances, especially during an extended segment focused on Quadrophenia material; the orchestra helps Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey summon a bit of the old Who's flair for bombast. Even so, the moments on the record that cut the deepest are when the band plays without the orchestra.

One does have to wonder if the songs would have had more impact if they were a bit less produced and mixed. Ultimately, the fault lies with everyone involved and their combined efforts lead to an album that is nice to have playing while idly doing household chores, but is unlikely inspire too many repeat listens.

Mess is part of the appeal of Crazy Horse, whether they're heard with Young or on their own, so it feels right that All Roads Lead Home occasionally feels as if the sum is less than the individual parts; these are old friends not so much joining forces as they are grooving on the same wavelength.

Ultimately, Prism ends up faring much like the previous two Orb albums -- another eclectic mixed bag that has some amusing ideas but doesn't feel as focused as the group's best work.

Sheeran is naturally a laid-back performer, the pair fit almost a little bit too neatly: where certain hooks and melodic refrains would've been pushed into the spotlight on previous Sheeran albums, they're lying in the background here. That tender touch when combined with a preponderance of ballads turns - (subtract) into a curiously recessive album: its emotions are raw, yet its execution is reserved.

For every familiar move, there's an unexpected turn.

Gag Order discards these pop niceties because it's designed as a purge, one that delivers catharsis for the artist without much consideration for the audience.

By and large, Heaven Is a Junkyard finds Powers in pastoral mode. Even in its most orchestrated moments, the album feels primarily reflective and still, like Powers is gazing out on a silent field of wheat and offering us a look into his brain as the thoughts, memories, and scattered hopes all float by.

Context and a bold lack of featured artists lend a sense of solitary unease that differentiates these exploits from those recounted in his earlier output.

Despite Clarkson's rousing performances and optimistic outlook, Chemistry feels cloistered and secluded, lacking pathways into its inner sanctuaries.

Stitched together with old, seemingly unfinished material dusted off and sometimes freshened up in some fashion, varying wildly in subject matter, and therefore doesn't come across as a true follow-up to 2021's Punk.

Emotional Contracts finds Deer Tick operating at full power and making very few advancements from previous albums, seeing no need to fix what isn't broken with their meat-and-potatoes, blue-collar rock sound.

Some of Uzi's experiments are fun and exploratory while others flop, and the entire album is a lot to digest in one go. There are still plenty of solid tracks regardless of what style Lil Uzi Vert is trying on, but more fastidious editing might have delivered a more enjoyable, less meandering overall listening experience.

At its most passable, COI is an engaging play with enough highlights to pack a playlist and keep the party moving.

The Ones Ahead gets too saccharine at times, and it's not anywhere near as engaging as Glenn-Copeland's visionary folk-jazz records from the early '70s, or his soothing ambient classic Keyboard Fantasies. Nevertheless, it's impossible to find fault with his optimism, and the songs' messages clearly resonate.

Here Lydon has ideas and sounds focused on making them into something, and he has a band capable of giving him all the support he needs. It's not entirely successful, but it's not lazy, either, and at this stage of Lydon's career (and given a very trying situation at home), that's to be commended.

A bevy of producers, highlighted by Jennifer Decilveo (Bat for Lashes, Anne-Marie) and Daniel Tannenbaum (Kendrick Lamar), do admirable, evocative work, but the songs and feeling get lost under the layers of sound, particularly at the album's hour-long running time.

Ashnikko is part rage rapper, part feminist pop star, part disaffected rocker with emo-goth tendencies, but still somehow categorically none of the above, donning a new mask for each new expression.

As a whole, End of the Day taps into the stillness that's flowed through Tell Me How You Really Feel and Things Take Time, Take Time, a melancholy that's as restorative as it is depressive. That feeling when not married to singing and lyrics winds up offering some measure of comfort. Free of melody, hooks or other organizing themes, this music merely floats, a soothing sound to those who share its wavelength.

Chock-full of brusque rhymes that, even with occasional respite with the odd slow jam, become mind-numbing over the course of its hour-long duration, Scarlet is a fascinating follow-up to Planet Her.

An album that sustains a mellow, melancholy mood without quite distinguishing itself as a collection of individual songs. Then again, that's kind of the point of the album: it's a pensive soundtrack for a specific season, nothing more and nothing less.

The Dark Side of the Moon Redux doesn't offer uninterrupted talk but the stress is placed firmly on the words, to the point that "The Great Gig in the Sky" now doesn't float weightlessly: it's now about a letter Waters wrote to the assistant to Donald Hall when the poet was in his last days. It's a subtle change but it's a substantial one, turning Dark Side of the Moon into a voyage inward, not outward.

With a more congruous title, "Anxiety's Rainbow" is an album highlight for its marriage of rousing melody, dissonance, and groove, while the rest is interesting enough to hope for more from this ambitious isolation-induced project.

An album that continues very much in the melancholy vein of its predecessor while taking a generally looser approach to arrangements.

Action Adventure doesn't sound like DJ Shadow's other records, but it's exactly the type of album he would make -- a risky, expectation-bucking set that only fully makes sense to the artist himself.