This theatricality is easily the album's most engaging feature, making The Resistance: Rise of the Runaway a unique offering in an otherwise dull post-hardcore landscape.

Russell's view of history may be romantic but it is also gritty as hell, and enduring. This is his masterpiece.

What makes the record so terrific--and it is one of Stamey's best albums--is how it crackles with a vitality that makes the strong song and studio craft feel vibrant and alive, not a stale exercise in pining for the way things used to be.

Servant of Love is an album that needs a few spins to be fully appreciated, but it's as sincere, heartfelt, and artful as anything Griffin has released to date, and if the form may seem elusive to some listeners, the content is powerful and satisfying, a reminder of why Patty Griffin is one of our best singer/songwriters.

As a composer, singer, and sound sculptor, Hausswolff is in full control on The Miraculous, balancing harshness and intimacy, heaviness and airy melancholy. It's an uncompromising view, but it's also welcoming.

Even with the album's graceful inclinations, it still sounds as bleak its title, but the way the Body combine disparate components into their brand of mutilated "gross pop" is truly fascinating.

The Peace & Truce of Future of the Left is one of their most roaring dissents against the increasingly frustrating state of the world in the 2010s. Of course, this band is angry even when it isn't fashionable, but even so, this is some of their most cathartic music in a while.

It takes nothing for granted. The guitarist accounts for every sound and impression from his instrument and surroundings here, allowing the listener deep inside a sound world at the moment of its creation.

Arrival is a fantastic album and a great piece of film score work, delivering menacing, daunting cacophonies of noise that evoke all types of fear, wonder, and intrigue that are evident within the movie itself.

Oddisee's all-round strengths as producer, mixer, and lyricist make for a more cohesive record, allowing for his personality and message to shine that much brighter.

Graveyard Shift is a highly enjoyable and entertaining continuation for a band that knowingly winks along with the madness they concoct.

Inconspicuousness notwithstanding, Pretty Girls Like Trap Music is among Epps' most significant and enjoyable work.

If the question on The Knife is what is an aging punk rocker to do, then the answer according to Feldmann is keep doing what you're doing--just be sure to be the best at it. It's a brave sentiment, and Goldfinger definitely lives up to it.

Found in Far Away Places, was a bold smorgasbord of stylistic trial and error--but Phantom Anthem is rooted in pure power, and it just never lets up.

The Disarmers are the perfect bunch of honky tonk rockers to help Shook bring these tunes across. 2015's Sidelong showed Sarah Shook & the Disarmers had plenty of potential, and Years shows there are plenty more great songs where those came from.

Created in a time of turmoil, Fighting Season is an album that always reflects the era that informed it, and while Thalia Zedek never pretends to have all the answers, her musings are brave, literate, and full of heart, and this is an important statement from an important artist.

Despite a couple of duds, the gloomy groove of the album is musically vivid and lyrically vulnerable. Taking cues from some of his era of rap's most boundary-pushing figures, Boogie's debut sets the scene for even greater things to come.

1977 was a vanguard year for music, and Cherry Red does a brilliant job excavating and polishing the gems, both obvious and obscure.

Here and throughout A Steady Drip, Drip, Drip, Ron and Russel Mael riff on their history deftly, and the results are both timely and quintessentially Sparks.

A fine showcase for how Sleaford Mods boil down punk and hip-hop's frustration into eloquent outrage and anger, All That Glue helps the converted and newcomers alike play catch-up.

All of his pleasantly confusing sounds align, creating an atmosphere that perfectly communicates the themes of openness and quiet excitement for the entirety of the album.

A pleasing amalgam of propulsive uptempo shoegaze, misty psych-pop, and layered acoustic songwriting, The View from Halfway Down offers an attractive compendium of Bell's accumulated strengths.

Even with the occasional programmed drums, some kind of peace is a consistently tranquil set, with enough shape and variety to the tracks to stave off ambient or easy listening claims.

This is more modest than monumental, and that small scale is appealing in its own right.

While THIB is a back-to-front vibe and an intriguing experiment for Zay's mellowed-out sound, it's one that's still negotiating its own limits.

Whilst it doesn't always stick the landing, the new spaces it does explore are well worth the journey.

Time has shaped their voices fascinatingly, adding comforting heft to Callahan's baritone and resilience to Oldham's warbly tenor. The former lends some warmth to the wry elegance of Steely Dan's "Deacon Blues," while the latter adds a mystical melody to Leonard Cohen's "The Night of Santiago," a spoken-word piece from his final album Thanks for the Dance. When they join their voices, they complement each other perfectly.

The result is a fine archival release that goes a long way toward proving that 1972 wasn't a lost year for the band and that their growing pains and tribulations make for fascinating listening.