Their hardest-rocking and emotionally urgent set in a while, I Built You a Tower is a strong reminder of why Death Cab have touched so many hearts over the decades, still refusing to rest on their legacy with this liberated, creative flash that pays off in droves.

Despite its gentle presentation, Music for Pulse Meridian Foliation offers music that questions time, space, and dimensionality, and ultimately points to questions as yet unspoken.

Xylitol's music approaches jungle from a unique perspective, channeling the experimentation and hypnotic power of kosmische music while fully understanding the exciting impact of heavy bass and explosive breakbeats.

It’s the most accessible and fun of the triad of albums and represents Drake at his most interesting and least lazy.

Habibti, though the most replayable entry of the trilogy, is more about atmosphere than content.

Iceman gets tedious quickly. Drake tries hard for vindication and righteousness with almost each of the album’s 18 tracks, but it all ends up serving as a reminder of why he lost the beef that he still can’t get over.

Ness and his band remain faithful here to their trusted melodic punk rock sound.

Time is a welcome studio reunion between Mahal and PBB, and a superb reworking of the original album while juxtaposing styles, sounds, and rhythms with joyful abandon.

The songs here are always tender if tangled, and the record closes on the quasi-acoustic, more clarified "A Moment in My Eyes," a bookend that parts ways with the album's swirly, fuzzy, knotty headspace and floats listeners back down to earth ("Black-and-white photos/Spillings of a dream").

While the group are not strangers to sociopolitical subject matter, Dancing on the Wall is their most overtly so yet.

An album that demands and rewards close listening, Inferno remains true to the world Boards of Canada have created while engaging with the world at large.

This album is a great starting point for Grohl, who proves she can handle both aggressive alt-rock blasts and hazy shoegaze escapes on the journey to hone her own sonic perspective.

McCartney's gift for hummable pop songcraft endures and more than one of these songs is likely to pop into your head days after listening. Yet, it's all those little moments on The Boys of Dungeon Lane and the way McCartney brings his past to life that makes the album one of his most affecting.

Crawlspace of the Pantheon sounds like the work of a band that still has plenty of gas left in the tank, regardless of how long they've (or he's) been at it. Play it loud.

Mendez's gentle vignettes have carried an outsized emotional heft, but his wistful melodies are just as likely to bring listeners back.

There’s a newfound lightness here, and even though the amps are still maxed out and the songs aren’t exactly chipper hymns of optimism and renewal, there’s a sense that Iceage is finding hope within the chaos for the first time.

The overall sound of Nowhere doesn't veer too far off course from her warm and welcoming approach in the past decade, but thankfully adds some life back into the mix after two relatively subdued efforts. Her observations are as sharp as ever.

On these songs as with so many before them, Vile is just walking us through the strange side streets of his mind, moving from one circular riff to the next and guiding us through the weird haze with a knowing smile.

Whether or not Wild at Heart stands as Diamond's final album, it completes a tidy trilogy of Rubin-produced records that are among the most satisfying of his long career.

Heavy Water is unique in its sonic remembrance of a more modern tragedy, one whose environmental and emotional repercussions are still being felt today.

Another accessible set where listeners can imagine meeting him in a bar to chat about the old times and catch up on the new.

Lyrically and vocally, Kehlani exudes more warmth here than ever, and the album's additional echoes of '90s/2000s contemporary R&B is enhanced with the featured artists.

IT’S BEEN AWFUL is the sound of Rashad breaking lock after lock open, and letting everything bundle out into the open; on the late-summer air, his flurried thoughts spread into a stunning whole of growth and selfhood.

Kramer and Moore interact with each other's fiery and ungovernable sounds effortlessly, often finding anger and peace within the same tune. They craft an atmosphere that stays in this tenuous balance for the entirety of the album, acknowledging suffering and universal loss while always keeping the hope for something better as a guiding light.

It's her most purely satisfying live set to date.

Gravity Freeze may lack some of the unhinged excitement of previous albums, but the depth and feeling they put on display is impressive and makes the album a detour well worth taking.

As an artist, Anderson's own contributions to American independent music are significant, making her sharp rebuke of nationalism and xenophobia even more powerful.

Anguished, inspired, and exceptional album.