An apt, and winning, culmination of Khan's music. As she celebrates the renewal of disappearing into a new identity or the freedom of getting lost in the moment, her visions feel more vivid, and more real, than they have in some time.

Another State of Grace isn't as immediately satisfying as its predecessor, but like all things built with care, it attains a golden patina over time.

While this LP might seem like a present custom made for expectant deep-listening fans who have grown with the makers, it's plainly evident that Phonte and Pooh needed to make it for themselves. Like the return from their idolized A Tribe Called Quest, May the Lord Watch strengthens a legacy of an act crucial to hip-hop.

These are songs that make you want to roll the windows down, light up a smoke, and pound the dashboard in agreement.

While lyrics stick better than hooks here, the album is not without a handful of low-key anthems (including the latter track's high-flying, Auto-Tuned "it's gonna be okay"), and the atmosphere manages to be consistently warm and inviting despite its mechanical veneer.

Though the songs average just under two minutes each, at 21 tracks, it's generous for a Cosmos outing and does nothing to detract from Kline's reputation as one of indie pop's most reliable songsmiths.

While it was unfinished and framed in '80s studio tropes, their attempt to complete it with modern charts and muddy, hip-hop-styled mix weighs down what remains of the original proceedings.

The record's resonance lies in its deep emotions and sense of craft. The craft isn't incidental, either. Their shared skills as writers and singers provide the supporting evidence to Shires' conceptual thesis: if country radio doesn't want to play music this good, what's the point of radio anyway?

As a detour from rock & roll, Free is a fine and compelling study of the mind and mood of Iggy Pop at the age of 72, and if it's clearly the work of an older artist, that works to its favor, a pointed contrast to the abandon of his youth but with no less gravitas.

Even solid instrumentals begin to blur before the halfway point arrives, and the monotonous wash of mediocre content and phoned-in performances becomes exhausting long before the collection ends.

As usual, Vaughan completely ignores modern electric blues trends. On this excellent slab of grease, grit, and soul, past is present is future, thank goodness.

That Tinariwen continue to extend invitations to outside inspirators, even on their own literal turf, is a testament to their unyielding collaborative spirit and on this hybrid of an album, they again summon a common musical language while sounding as authentic as ever.

The album maintains the smouldering quality that Lower Dens have always had, but replaces all the washed-out splendor with exacting pop hooks borrowed straight from the Reagan era. It ends up being both the headiest and most commercial material the band has created. It’s a different beast from their earlier iterations, but a compelling remodelling with interlocking layers of both sound and cultural critique.

Thoroughly inspired as well as creative, Hoodies All Summer is arguably the best work of Kano's career.

Familiar in style and approach, Engine of Paradise offers a sturdy distillation of Green's worldview, albeit a slightly darker one.

The band have never made music that's sounded so modern and disconcertingly eager to please. It's a sea change that's hard to swallow, and despite the presence of some decent tracks, Wallop is the band's weakest album to date.

Every bit as excellent as their previous two full-lengths, Venus in Leo is HTRK's most sensuous material yet, and the type of album that provokes repeated, enraptured listens.

Like a more pastoral variation on Joni Mitchell's Blue, the reduced volume on Like The River Loves The Sea gives the music strength, not fragility, and this is Joan Shelley's best work to date. Turns out that trip to Reykjavik was a wise investment.

Brighter Days is a bit tidier and less adventurous than 2017's Got Soul, but it captures the heart and soul of Robert Randolph & the Family Band as well as their big, bold sound, and the results are strong, satisfying stuff.

All the songs aim for intense, tormented statements and end up being about nothing. In this way, ! is more numbing than visceral. After it's done, it's hard to remember anything that was worth latching onto.

The sheer dynamism of When I Have Fears threatens to derail the album, but a dedication to themes makes it cohesive, with the softer moments highlighting the louder counterparts and vice-versa. It's captivating from start to finish, heartbreaking in its delivery, and intense in all the right ways.

The brothers and sisters in arms, longtime partners (Thomas McElroy, Taura Stinson) and new associates (Brook D'Leau, Daniel Crawford) alike, play in service to the vision of one eminent artist, helping him convert grief to artistic brilliance.

The whole album revolves around the idea of rock & roll as a freeing source of energy, a non-stop party that can uplift those who embrace it. The McDonald brothers are living proof of that idea and Beyond the Door is another example of how pure their love for the form is and how powerfully they channel the true unadulterated ideals of the music.

The band rounds out the album with more familiar-sounding songs like "Stranger in a New Town" and "Good Night Out," but it's Powers' riskier, more revealing moments that prove the Futureheads have more to say than ever before.

Shannon Lay lives in the real world even as she's fascinated with all that is not obvious to us, and she's rarely in better form than on August. Anyone this good certainly deserves not to work in retail.

It's clear after four albums that the best Bon Iver is the one that manages to keep the arrangements in check and doesn't swing for the fences. I,I takes many mighty swings and at best knocks out a few infield hits, while striking out far too often.

Tool managed to improve and perfect their sound even further, resulting in one of the strongest statements in their catalog. Whether 10,000 days or the actual 4,868, Fear Inoculum was well worth the wait.

It's a nice dose of rock & roll, but the heart of Sunset Kids lies at twilight, when the day is done, and there are some lingering regrets, but still a glimmer of hope. That bittersweet undercurrent is what lifts this album into the ranks of one of Malin's best records.