Overall, Not All Heroes advances Metro Boomin's technique, utilizing an Avengers-of-trap team to amplify the drama in his atmospherics and focus the hypnotic appeal of his sharp beat pops.

Simultaneously sad, strange, and warmly nostalgic, Some Rap Songs is excitingly listenable and emotionally connected despite its abstruse approach. The album's triumphs are in its fearless risk taking and the insight it allows into the journey of Earl Sweatshirt's constant creative regeneration.

Dummy Boy is unlikely to disappoint 6ix9ine fans, but for everyone else, there's little to back up the hype and controversy associated with the self-professed "King of New York."

While the energy tapers off on the second half of the album, these midtempo jams are as addictive as the euphoric singles, providing contemplative balance and additional opportunities to showcase each inspired collaboration. What Is Love? was worth the long wait, taking the promise of "Rather Be" and topping it many times over.

Whatever the artistic intent, Icarus Falls remains a monstrosity--a bountiful gift or a daunting challenge, depending on the listener--that deserves some attention if there's time and patience to spare.

Foxwarren remains both off-kilter and irresistibly comforting, like the feeling of the pull of sleep.

The album's remainder employs assorted hit-angling producers connected by pop success with young women. The Pains of Growing is consequently more fragmented and less consistent than Know-It-All, but Cara makes the best of it, generally writing in a slightly wiser and sharper manner from the same introverted homebody perspective.

Despite its intentionally unrefined character, the album is well crafted in terms of both songs and production balance, though they may not want to cop to it on record.

It's possible to hear the pure theatricality of Springsteen's performance, both in his oversized spoken introductions and singing. It becomes very clear that Springsteen is playing the part of Springsteen, exaggerating certain aspects of his life and persona for dramatic effect. This has a ripple effect through the songs-many of which are quite familiar, with a couple of latter-day numbers thrown in for good measure-which, in this context, feel written instead of lived.

Another triumph, Mandy reaffirms his mastery and hints at how much more he had to contribute.

Each of the songs are immediately reprised by dub versions, and these indulge in all of the spacy echo and delay effects one would expect, often improving on the originals. Overall, though, the music just doesn't seem quite as pushed to the outer limits as Back on the Controls. The Black Album isn't a major disappointment, but it isn't exceptional, either.

Cheap Thrills was the album that made Janis Joplin one of the biggest stars of her era (and rightly so), but Sex, Dope & Cheap Thrills reminds us she didn't go it alone, and it's the work of a strong and memorable band as well as a world-class singer.

Teleman prove that following their bliss is more important to them than more predictable markers of success, and it's hard to hear Family of Aliens as anything other than a soft-spoken declaration of independence.

Subtlety is the strength of The Tree: it can be heard as soothing, healing music, but its real rewards reveal themselves through close listening.

While it's true that Immortal doesn’t break new ground here, it was perhaps more important at this juncture to reassert their sound to fans as they move forward in the aftermath of Abbath's departure. They not only carry on here, but sound more like their unhinged, malevolent selves than ever.

The Public Image Is Rotten presents a thorough and uncompromised portrait of Lydon's work with PiL, and anyone interested in the many contexts he's created for his unique vision will find plenty to take in.

Overall, though, these songs are meant to exist in a complete volume, tied together gracefully with a sweetness that belies their complexity.

There's an abundance of low-wattage boasts about financial and libidinal surpluses, most of which could have been composed by a generator. Softer and more melodic cuts are indicated with all-lowercase track titles. ... If Yachty can find a way to be his goofy self and elevate his writing, he can rebound.

Listeners put off by Nash's cheekiness in the past may find her more relatable here, or at least more compelling, though Yesterday Was Forever still refuses to pander.

Apart from the sly and sweet 2-step rhythm on "Wasted Times," the sound of the EP is bleary R&B with beats that drag and lurch, suited for Tesfaye's routine swings between self-pity and sexual vanity, chemically enhanced from one extreme to the other.

We're Your Friends, Man proves that they (he?) haven't lost a bit of their vision and skill, and while it's hard to say where one should start investigating the Bevis Frond's massive body of work, this will give you the lay of the land just as well as most of their albums.

Romano has always been a tough artist to pigeonhole, but there's a feeling here of having shed a few more layers and dug a little deeper into his psyche, and the results are frequently exhilarating.

In looking to capture the ugliness of humanity and parse through the despair that slithers malevolently in its wake, Daughters have crafted their most vital outing to date.

As arranged by Good and Ferry, these are all wry and romantic productions that evoke the smoky ambiance of Babylon Berlin's Weimar Republic-era setting. Elsewhere, Ferry transforms the new wave sophistication of "While My Heart Is Still Beating" off 1982's Avalon into a slinky, half-lidded crawl, and similarly mutates the pop exotica of his 1985 title track "Boys and Girls" into a slow-burn flamenco fever dream.

Later lyrical transgression aside, the LP is a pleasurable thrill ride.

Skins takes that unrealized potential and cobbles together these tracks--basically b-sides and outtakes--strictly for fans who needed just ten more reasons to hear his voice.

Clocking in at over an hour, The Prophet Speaks breezes through its run-time with memorable performances and joyous vibes. This is a late-career surge that is all the more remarkable because Morrison really seems to be enjoying himself--he continues to hunger after the music that inspired his vocation in the first place.

What really makes this collection worthwhile is how these robust performances put the lie to the notion that acoustic Neil is sad, sensitive Neil.