King's voice remains assured and soft, like she's confidently revealing secrets in the most expressive way possible, without disturbing her neighbors. This time, there's a little more grit and swagger, and frequently there's a sense of resolve that comes through even when not indicated lyrically.

One is never quite sure what direction Lawrie is going to head; all that's a given is that it's always a direction worth following, and Exploding Head Syndrome holds true to that theory.

Plenty of roots-oriented acts can do the high and lonesome thing, but Mandolin Orange make it cut like bourbon and soothe like honey on Tides of a Teardrop, and it's outstanding work from a group that grow more satisfying and accomplished with each release.

Well worth the wait, Drift Code is the sound of an artist coming into his own on his own time.

At 13 tracks, and the more forgettable ones clustered in the second half, the album could have benefitted from some trimming, but it ends elegantly, with a reassuring title track that seems to promise further growth.

While the best material here represents stylistic evolution or at least enhancement of the best parts of Cherry Glazerr's recent sound, Stuffed & Ready as a whole spoils quickly, fizzling from righteous anthems of anger and self-questioning into monotonous and self-absorbed alt-rock rewrites.

With a handful of impressive releases already under their belt, Tiny Ruins have outdone themselves here, with a full set of compellingly crafted songs that are enriched rather than overwhelmed by the fuller sound.

On this very nice debut, Spielbergs are a tough band to pigeonhole, boasting quality writing and a hooky approach that transcends whatever sonic space they occupy at a given moment.

Everything on Encore is amiable but not especially defined: they play with the ease of a group who has made their living on the road, but they lack urgency, even when they're singing about hot-button issues. Despite this lack of fire, Encore is a definite step up from the covers albums the Specials made surrounding Y2K: they feel like a band with a purpose, even if they're not making an especially big deal about it.

With Condon's warm quaver and bevy of brass instruments, acoustic and electric guitars, electronic and acoustic drums, accordion, and mix of pianos, organs, and synthesizers including modular synths gathered under a production ethos that dials up already colorful arrangements to Technicolor spectacle.

The album points to the potential of future solo albums from both Girlpool members. Even though some of the huge shake-ups of instrumentation and songwriting styles work well, Tucker and Tividad rarely sound like they're connecting and it makes What Chaos Is Imaginary harder to connect with.

At nine songs, Look Alive never wears out its welcome, and its commitment to sonic versatility, no matter how nostalgia-driven, helps temper some of its more forgettable moments. In evoking the '80s synth pop of their youth, Guster have unearthed a small gem that gives off a familiar, yet undeniably dazzling shine.

At once slight and overdone, Why You So Crazy is one of the least rewarding trips the Dandy Warhols have taken their fans on during their career.

The label-defiant marvel again switches up her supporting co-producers and cooks up another half-hour of authoritative progressive pop.

Easily his most accessible material, there's still a lot of uncomfortable emotional and sonic wreckage to sift through. Peeling back the layers of grime and giving listeners a chance to sift through it for themselves makes I Have to Feed Larry's Hawk feel like a debut from this already storied songwriter.

Where I Wasn't Born to Lose You was electric with the excitement of Swervedriver's rebirth, Future Ruins is the sound of a band that's happy to be back and ready to get down to the business of pushing their sound forward.

Amo is a genre-bending thrill ride that marks a brave new era for the band. Placing a significant amount of trust in their fan base, Bring Me the Horizon deliver an utterly refreshing and forward-thinking statement that finds them in complete control of their vision.

Taken on a strictly musical terms, The Teal Album is pretty anodyne stuff. Weezer replicates the arrangements of beloved songs, adds a bit more fuzz on the guitar solos, and flattens the vocal affectations, which amounts to one weird trick: Weezer doesn't attempt to make the songs their own, yet these versions unmistakably sound like Weezer.

With DNA, a revitalized Backstreet Boys exude an assured confidence, taking enough steps forward to continue their pop maturation without ignoring the hooks and harmonies that carried them all this way.

Far from reclusive, Weird is a gregarious, idiosyncratic pop album that invites the listener to meet it on its own terms, but Hatfield is absolutely fine if it's rejected. She's cool being on her own.

There's not much in the way of lyrics following the opening track, but she highlights her ethereal voice as an instrument on the harmonic study "Late Night Healing Choir." Taken together, Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars almost functions as a tone poem and is nearly as beautiful and elegant as its thematic inspirations.

Swindle aims high on No More Normal, which is clearly intended for a widespread audience rather than the U.K. underground massive, and its best moments are grand and inspirational.

Some artists stumble when they move on from a strongly minimal aesthetic, but Sneaks sounds justifiably confident on Highway Hypnosis, and this suggests any number of new directions where her talent could travel.

Maybe Krol isn't cool, but Power Chords shows he's fierce, fun, exciting, and real, and that always means more in the long run.

"Look Away," with its inventive and Eastern-tinged, Led Zeppelin III-inspired acoustic guitar work, the soulful and contemplative title cut, and the breezy, psych-folk-rocker "All Directions," are administered with equal amounts of nuance and backbone, showcasing the band's versatility in both songcraft and execution, a feat made all the more impressive by their predilection for recording live in the studio. That craftsmanship, no doubt bolstered by the group's adherence to a rigorous tour schedule, is the glue that keeps Feral Roots from bursting apart at the seams.

Bringing emotional weight and measured playfulness to every song while maintaining a fascinating, cosmic soundscape, it's an album that lingers.

Rat's Spit replaces Lines as the strongest chapter of Lynch's musical vision, arranging a vibrant and overflowing world of sounds and ideas so precisely that the songs never feel messy or overcooked.

FIDLAR strike out in a variety of different directions, landing some new tricks but slamming a lot more. The result is a scattershot collection that just doesn't hang together very well.