While it doesn’t really come close to capturing the lightning-in-a-bottle power of Doggystyle, there’s enough of that original spirit mixed with a modernized production sound to make Missionary one of Snoop’s more enjoyable full album listening experiences in several years.

Although inessential in the context of Olsen's output, Cosmic Waves is a great idea well-executed, with the covers lending a needed gravitas and collectability to what would otherwise be a playlist project.

The album sees Cench find new collaborations with rising Puerto Rican star Young Miko and grime pioneer Skepta, alongside another link-up with Dave following the pair's number one-charting "Sprinter" in 2023.

It's a flawlessly executed document of pristine production and incremental bursts of verve and joy to keep the music from dissolving into its own atmosphere. The challenge here, however, is finding the right mood to appreciate the Weeknd's lengthy and elaborate funeral for himself.

The editing and sequencing on Downstate are more a part of the listening experience here than on the previous album, with quick transitions, trippy fades, and unexpected pitch changes all adding weirdness to an already warped set of jams.

It's a shame that a majority of the album suffers from this cookie cutter sameness when at other times SASAMI can craft music that does have some personality and excitement. Just not enough to make Blood on the Silver Screen feel like anything other than a huge misstep.

The LP includes the singles "Malibu," "Caroline," and the propulsive, boot-stomping title cut.

At least lyrically, Flür is trying to glance forward at the future on Times more than he did on his previous albums, which nostalgically referenced his past. Like his other albums, however, the songs themselves aren't always exciting, as well-produced as they are.

If you already know where you stand on this guy's music, then you already know whether or not it's worth your time.

Pink Elephant feels like an album Arcade Fire "had to" make, one that addresses a very public period of the band's history without getting too deep (or deep enough at all) into the matter, like they just want everyone to forget about it and move on to the inevitable next album cycle.

I'm the Problem sees Morgan Wallen deliver another sprawling double-LP.

Lil Wayne exhibits glimpses of the brazen genius of his earlier self intermittently on Tha Carter VI, but the album feels like a battle between those moments of greatness and the rest of his weird swings and inadvisable choices.

Overall, American Heart is pleasant, but lacks some of the rock'n'roll kick and glitz that Boone's stage flipping antics imply; a momentary rush of moonbeam ice cream that leaves a sweet aftertaste, but not much else.

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.

One of those songs, "Daisies," also involves the unmistakable Mk.gee, and for Bieber it's a career highlight, a gentle rocker conveying an ultra-rare combination of anticipation, patience, and empathy. More often, Bieber's direct and inelegant wordplay is at odds with the hazy sonics.

Some of the ideas on The Fateful Symmetry seem a bit mismatched, and not all of the songs really work, but it does have its poignant moments.

This may be somewhat of a disappointment for expecting more from the vault: regardless of how good these selections may be, there's only seven remixes and just one demo of a "new" song that wasn't on the original Ray of Light. For more forgiving fans, however, this release offers a fascinating peek into the era, providing more intense, trance-y forays for some much beloved tracks.

A song like "Maelstrom" lets loose with a thundering bass drum and more-distant syncopated snare. For the most part, though, tracks levitate above ground along webs of acoustic guitar, piano, layered vocals, and atmospheric shimmer to the point where it's sometimes difficult to distinguish one song from another.

With the exception of a few clunkers, this disjointed flow becomes a defining characteristic of Love Chant. There’s a sense throughout that Dando is now comfortable enough with himself to take all the time he needs to explore weird ideas and decide where they start and end. That embrace of his own artistic whims is admirable, as is his choice to tread new ground rather than try to re-create his most successful work from the past.

This is less about hooks and more about mood. The mood is heavy and only begins to lift in the George Clinton-assisted finale. Miguel's voice remains a marvel, commanding enough to enliven substandard material.

While Infinite doesn't eclipse any of Mobb Deep's classic recordings, it's a treat for fans and does not dilute the legacy.

The surplus of ambling ballads, especially during a stretch in the latter half that features the soft voices of Justin Vernon, Yebba, and Hynes, blurs the line between pleasantly languid and laborious. Near the end, there's a slight uptick in intensity.

Delivers a denouement and a love letter to fans with an assured set rooted in the genre's sonic hallmarks.

It's all fine and good, but it lacks the excitement of the Buzzcocks' salad days.

Tenterhooks is one of the darker and more internal SSPU albums that stresses atmosphere over energy, which will hit listeners who enjoy their more thoughtful and introspective material, but may miss fans craving cathartic ragers and catchy anthems.

It's admirable that Palermo doesn't want to stick to just one sound, and some of the experiments work well, it's just that, ultimately, the misfires far outweigh the moments of promise.

Volumes: One (Selections from Music Concerts 2019-2023 6 Piece Band) might not be everyone's first choice for an archives dig, but it's clear the Vernon felt great love for this band and the sound they were able to whip up on-stage, so it's hard to complain too much.

This set veers more toward the earnest and inspirational stadium-singalong-anthem part of the band's personality (think "City of Blinding Lights," "Where the Streets Have No Name," "I Still Haven't Found..." and that ilk).