In classic punk rock tradition, many of the songs on High Risk Behaviour clock in at well under two minutes; meaning that it never drags.

In a way, New Me, Same Us comes across as a statement of renewed commitment from the band.

Although it's all over the place, Before Love Came to Kill Us radiates conviction from front to back, and is without doubt a true representation of its creator.

With this flawless effort, she manages to achieve both. Future Nostalgia could have just as well been titled "Future Classic."

There is nothing subtle about 100% Yes. Despite the anger and activism in the lyrics, this set is saturated with the energy of hope.

While the retro-future production on some of the songs gives Migration Stories a distinctive flair, it's still by and large a typical Ward joint, replete with all of the idiosyncrasies and retro affectations that have become a stylistic hallmark of his catalog. Familiar as it may sound, though, he doesn't skimp on quality and there is plenty to love about this latest entry in his impressive catalog.

If You're Dreaming definitely isn't as immediate as Quit the Curse, and while it isn't a demanding album, it requires a bit more concentration in order to understand it better.

Expressing a wide range of emotions in a short timespan, Allegiance and Conviction is a vivid, engrossing experience, and just as vital as every other entry in Windy & Carl's unbeatable catalog.

Consistently hypnotic, yet rich with sneaky melodic shifts, Sister's rich sonic architecture, which includes Bettinson's anodyne vocals and stream of consciousness wordsmithing, is its greatest selling point.

No matter how much Kelly Finnigan cloaks or smears his sweet and sour voice, he's one of the more affecting singers of his kind, the focal point amid an expertly arranged band and supporting voices, strings, and brass.

The album seemingly becomes more spaced out towards the end, but the concluding "Slow Movement: Sand" feels like a solemn resolution and is one of its more affecting tracks.

This is sometimes an aural journey through a labyrinth, but it never sounds like the participants are lost.

She's not only exceeded expectations with Walking Proof, she's made an album that will be hard for her to top, though no one who has followed her music so far would count that out.

Despite the label move, it's a follow-up both stylistically and thematically to 2018's Lavender, as it revisits themes of displacement, isolation, and connection.

Even without some of the more advanced effects he's able to use in a proper studio setting, he's still able to do a lot with his limited setup, wringing unearthly sounds and textures from decaying tape loops.

Glaspy has more or less tamped down her previously distracting vocal affectations in favor of a more sonorous style that really suits the material. Overall, she adds a handful of unique entries into the love song canon while pushing her own body of work forward.

Glover is fearless and definitely not afraid to fall flat in the quest for something new or real. 3.15.20 is both of those things and is the second classic, timeless and timely Childish Gambino record in a row.

Over the course of 13 tracks, Sorry drifts into a wide range of sounds and experiments with subtlety. Their chameleonic approach is never garish, with strong songs being the main takeaway and all the experiments with production and style just the weird icing on the cake.

Bad Bunny does whatever he wants, even if that means quitting when you're far ahead. If he does, we'll still have YHLQMDLG, a transformative fever dream of an album that accents freedom by breaking all the rules without writing new ones.

Local Honey is an inside record that's better-suited for humid mornings and overcast afternoons than the open highway. In looking stridently inward, Fallon has crafted his most homespun and relatable outing to date.

For the band's part, they definitely benefit from being able to stretch out in the studio for a change, and Loughead in particular delivers some excellent lead guitar work. In terms of Nap Eyes' catalog, Snapshot feels like a bold new era, though it's not without its growing pains.

Illusion of Time fittingly sounds rougher and more spontaneous than any of Avery's work or Cortini's preceding recordings, particularly his 2019 Mute release Volume Massimo, but its highlights seem to pull divine inspiration out of practically nothing.

While alternating between regretful slower tracks, midtempo drawls, and livelier, foot-tapping fare, the album never moves off dirt roads and adjacent orchards, and proves to be her most carefree-sounding effort to date. That's despite doggedly self-examining lyrics that keep Saint Cloud squarely in the realm of prior releases from an artist who continues to ward off complacency.

Tesfaye fills much of this neatly sequenced, ballad-heavy set with penitence and longing. He sets the tone with an escapist fantasy that turns into a nightmarish relapse, and is tormented for much of the duration by seeking and receiving salvation and ruination from the same relationship. Some of Tesfaye's most vivid and piercing lines are herein.

Despite its unconcealed outrage, Gigaton does have its share of shade and texture even before it settles into a number of meditative moments on its second side. ... Aural adventure adds a nice counterpoint to protests and pleas offered up by Pearl Jam, and helps Gigaton feel vivid, alive, and just a shade hopeful.

It's uplifting, even life-affirming.

The Performer can get a bit bogged down in its own stylistic chicanery, but Righton is transitioning from rocker to crooner in real time, and it's the tension between the two aesthetics that keeps the listener's attention.

Uneasy Laughter is a riskier proposition than Moaning's first album, but it demonstrates their tremendous growth, both as a band and as humans.