Just good old-fashioned hard rock that's guilt free and easy to love.

Individually and together, these records are as potent, squalling, and beautiful as when they were issued.

Heavenly have done a fine job of delivering what their fans might expect -- indie pop at its finest -- with enough curveballs, gentle bite, and brilliant songs to make it sound 100% brand new, exciting, and impossible to write off as just another nostalgia trip.

Harmonicraft finds Torche taking off at full speed with an album packed full of driving riffs and soaring melody that's going to have an easy time convincing fans that the band hasn't lost a step after losing a member.

There’s a stillness throughout Laughter in the Summer, a mood that can sometimes read as somber. The overarching feeling in these songs, however, is one of beaming gratitude, and that keeps the album feeling less like an expression of mourning and more a slow-moving outpouring of joy and acceptance.

The delicate acoustic closer "Stick Man Test" makes the entire journey end up feeling more like a soundtrack than a standard album.

Certainly, these are great songs, all of them from Autechre's melodic early-'90s heyday, but Parish casts them in new light with his own artistry in a unique and unexpected collaboration.

The sound is terrific, the presentation is handsome, the sound and selection are amazing; and negotiations with musicians are not done on colonial terms.

On Aviary, Holter answers the chaos of 21st century life by following her bliss; the results are a constellation of moments that celebrate the fullness of her music and, as always, make for fascinating listening.

A striking beginning to this chapter of Barratt's career, Crooked Man bears the stamp of artistic confidence that takes years to develop.

The intimacy and raw beauty of Live at the Cellar Door makes it not just a must for super fans, but a valuable companion piece to any of Young's early studio output.

Fans of the group more interested in songs might feel short changed at first, but further listens only intensify the cohesive power and pocket grandeur of the record.

It might take a few listens or views to wrap one's head around what Angine de Poitrine are doing, but their music is actually a lot more accessible than it may seem at first, and their second effort is an incredibly fun record.

All this adds up to another midlife triumph from Mould, a record that harks back to his past while completely occupying the present moment, no matter how uncomfortable or painful that may be.

Cathartic and wrecked, Turn Out the Lights is the type of album that will be uncommonly relatable to some and unbearable to others. For those who are receptive, the songwriter's ferocious authenticity connects in spite of, rather than in concert with, the more dramatic accompaniment here.

On The Bible, Kurt Wagner bravely steps into new territory both musically and lyrically, and it's a beautiful and frequently moving experience.

If Miller hadn't passed, Circles would be an insightful, focused addition to his strong late-era catalog, shining a necessary light on emotional and mental health struggles and sobriety through his deeply reflective lyrics and the wonderfully enjoyable and warm production work by Brion. Instead, it's yet another reminder of lost potential and a life cut tragically short.

Packed with great songs and performances, it re-establishes Golightly as a beacon of grace and restraint in a world sadly bereft of both.

The icing on the cake is in the little details.

HEAVN was expanded and reissued a year later by Jagjaguwar, made available on physical formats with a track list that added six interludes and a thick reprise of "Holy." The interludes, especially the one in which children recite an Assata Shakur quote--inserted as a brilliant setup for "Blk Grl Soldier"--are not extraneous.

With his often muted horn and inclination toward long, extended phrases, Scott feels as much like a vocalist as he does a trumpeter. It's a sound contrasted nicely by his bandmates Cook and Pinderhughes, who accent what are often purposefully pixelated grooves with soulful, harmonically nuanced improvisations.

The clarity of the remastering on The End of Radio makes this a must for fans of Shellac. It would be nice if we could get another live set from this trio that was recorded less than 15 years ago, yet as an artifact of the Live Shellac Experience and a sincere tribute to fallen comrades, this is as good as you could hope for.

Subtlety is her strength and that skill is still evident in her witty, elegant turns of phrase, but the distinguishing characteristic of Your Life Is a Record is warmth. From its enveloping sound to its empathetic tales, the album feels openhearted and comforting, a sensibility that helps the record seem charmingly out of step with the times.

Free Energy sounds like the work of a band tapping into the well of creativity at its source and coming up with a work that gently and gracefully slides the group up one notch closer to their heroes.

Because of the material's quality and the inspired collaboration between songwriter, performers, and producer, July unfolds as a near-perfect song cycle.

A unified, deliberate, and conscious work.

It's compelling stuff, and Combs imbues all of his characters, no matter how lost they may be, with humanity and humor, and it's that knowing nod to vagabond life that makes Canyons of My Mind so easy to get lost in.

The songs on Us are long--most track in past four minutes--and the album can start to drag during some of the later verses, but as a statement on the health of hip-hop, it's an assured yes that all is well.