The confidence that courses through Self Worth is matched by Mourn's unguarded songwriting.

Though it's a shame that their 1990 reunion album Chain isn't acknowledged, Pylon Box is an otherwise near-flawless summation of a great and unique band, and it's absolutely worth every penny of its purchase price.

It's a testament to his vision and do-it-all ability that he can work with roughly 50 fellow producers and guest artists and line up the results for an hour-long set with tracks that flow forth like they're being decanted.

The band is at the top of their game and the songs all sound great, but more importantly, the messages they're expressing have never been more relevant.

This is avant-punk for the ageless with songs that could appeal to the crustiest post-punk fanatic and those young enough to be living through their first global crisis.

The death-centered storytelling of both the lyrics and podcast excerpts works well with Tunng's ever-ambitious blend of mystical folk and futuristic pop, and ultimately Dead Club's perspectives on the great beyond come off as curious and playful where they could have skewed far more fatalistic.

While vintage '70s and early-'80s jazz-funk aesthetics are at the core of Kuroda's sound, Fly Moon Die Soon never sounds retro and often feels less like a jazz album and more like a hip-hop or electronic artist's conception of a jazz album. Of course, that hybridized quality speaks to Kuroda's alchemic appreciation for music that goes far beyond the edges of the jazz tradition.

Ultimate Mixes do deliver a state-of-the-art aural upgrade, which is a selling point for fans who have purchased this material before.

It's an album that demands close attention to catch its myriad details, but contradictorily lulls the listener into a state of distraction with its hypnotic pulse and deceptively calm exterior. As a result, the hidden textures and purposefully clashing tones of Fading might not reveal themselves upon first listen, but an album this dense and intentionally drawn just gets better each time it's revisited.

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.

Four or five less tracks and a little less time spent extrapolating on the end of the world would have made for a far more engaging listen, even taking into consideration how rare new material from Busta Rhymes can be in this phase of his work.

The faintly cosmopolitan dance-pop grooves and finely measured ballads offer few unexpected turns. They're set apart more by a lack of gospel and soul, consequently rendering Love Goes plain by Smith's standard -- unfortunate for an artist whose instrument is anything but that.

Dizzee has accomplished a lot in two decades, from pioneering a genre as a hotly tipped teenage prodigy to collaborating with pop stars on chart-topping hits, but his dedication to his craft has never been stronger, and E3 AF is proof of his lasting vitality.

SURVIVAL HORROR is one of the band's best distillations of their extremes, providing just enough brutality without sacrificing their evolving vision of how melodic and experimental a metal band can be.

Such an intense, sustained focus does mean Positions succeeds in sounding sexy but it doesn't do much outside of that: apart from the title track, few songs stand out as individual songs, the rhythm and productions are all painted in shades of grey, and Grande disappears into the setting of her own design.

Hitting the same highs as her triumphant 2000s stretch -- namely Light Years, Fever, X, and Aphrodite -- this glittery, feel-good set is nothing short of euphoric, a dozen near-perfect gems that pay respect to the album's namesake era while updating the production with thrilling results

The boogie that was the trademark of his best-known work is almost entirely absent, and while Bolan's wordplay was often marvelous, many of these artists opt to treat them as grand philosophical statements, ignoring the wit that was so much of his lyrics. A few of the performers make this work, notably Lucinda Williams, who sounds beatific on "Life's a Gas," and Nick Cave, who somehow finds a mournful nostalgia in "Cosmic Dancer."

Though Sour Cherry Bell delves into gloomier, more despairing moods than Precious Systems, it maintains a balance through radiant energy and never descends into overpowering hopelessness.

Inward-looking, mysterious, and awash in found sounds, bucolic electronics, and naturalistic imagery, Don't Shy Away is both inexplicable and compelling, and is easily Loma's most rewarding outing to date.

Burden of Proof finds Benny the Butcher fully formed after years of development and growth. There's even a marked upgrade in production compared to his 2018 outing Tana Talk 3.

Sleepless Night is as warm and comforting as a cup of hot chocolate, and while it hardly seems like a major work (and it isn't), it's thoroughly enjoyable and a reminder that you can hardly do better than Yo La Tengo in making a playlist of treasured oldies.

For all of its epic grandiosity, May Our Chambers Be Full only clocks in at a mere 37 minutes, but in doing so leaves a more indelible impression.

Effectively, this evolution is a biography in the form of archival tapes, and the results are not only historically important, they're absorbing on a sheer musical level.

It's a long album but stays on full power for its entirety, with the endlessly catchy songs of alien worlds standing as some of the brightest and strangest material the Rentals have ever delivered.

Although lacking the silly and immature content found in their early output, the group retain their cheeky spirit, using that irreverence to process a society on the verge of collapse in a manner that's still uniquely Puscifer. As the world burns, Keenan and company hold a mirror to the calamity, forcing us to face reality and figure out a way to move forward.

Each of the tracks took a while to prepare, as Frusciante would fine-tune synth patches and arrange breakbeats, but the actual recordings were bashed out pretty quickly, and they all maintain that sense of elaborately designed spontaneity, making it easily the artist's most successful electronic work.

At a compact 12 tracks, Music Is the Weapon provides just enough inspiration to get the party started, but it is so good that -- if left on repeat -- it would be enough to fuel an entire night of hedonism.

Getting into Knives reminds us he's at the peak of his abilities in the art of record-making, and reminds us it's possible for a band to be brilliant without a shred of arrogance.