Taken in as a small cache of excellent songs by three of the more talented songwriters of their era, Boygenius is a wonderful starting point, setting the scene for future collaborations that push into places each member couldn't get to on her own.

While Simulation Theory might appear to be overly polished mainstream trickery--all part of the simulation!--it's purely Muse at heart, successfully merging electronic-pop songcraft with their typically urgent, stadium rock foundation.

Listen underneath that gloss, and it's possible to hear Davies working out his ideas in a space free from the spotlight. Such seclusion may have meant he wasn't as focused to deliver songs with pop aspirations, the way he was in the '60s, but that's also the appeal of the collection: it's a polished version of a notebook from a strong writer, so it's by nature fascinating for anybody interested in the music of Dave Davies.

If Only There Was a River rewards return listens with a deepening flow of new revelations and curiosities, as the power of the songs grows more apparent with each spin.

Time 'n' Place might not be quite as cohesive as Bonito Generation, but it offers a fuller portrait of Kero Kero Bonito's music without losing any of the spark that makes them special.

What makes Interstate Gospel so invigorating is hearing how Lambert, Monroe, and Presley mesh as both songwriters and singers. Their time apart has only strengthened their bond, resulting in a fully realized and resonant record that is their best to date.

Negative Capability is a testament to her journey and what it has taught her, and it reminds us she's still a talent capable of drawing our attention.

Ultraviolet is a remarkable album that blurs the lines between jazz improvisation, modern composition, and ambient electronic music, forming its own musical language.

By any measure, More Blood, More Tracks is a monumentally important document in the history of popular music and a gem in Dylan's catalog.

She Remembers Everything is a challenging and rewarding set from an artist who is at the peak of her abilities, and if anyone needs to be reminded that Rosanne Cash is one of America's best and smartest songwriters, all they need to do is spend some time with these songs.

The album is charmingly pretentious, confounding, and a good time all at once. Closer "Pebbles" is the only song here borrowed from their debut EP, Gothenburg, released six months earlier.

The release feels like what could've been, whereas Centres actually was, but it's still a beautiful, mystifying recording.

As an unofficial soundtrack for ritual madness, religious ecstasy, sex, winemaking, and song, Dionysus excels.

This may be familiar to the dedicated whose allegiance never wavered, but for those who believed R.E.M. faltered after Berry's departure, R.E.M. at the BBC is a gateway into the band's last act.

While familiar-sounding, the soundtrack brings something new to the table instead of being a pointless retread, and in general, it just sounds amazing. Definitely worthwhile for any Carpenter or Halloween fans.

Yawn, too, has its moments of beauty and craft, but the payoffs are so subtle and slow to arrive that its title becomes the regrettably inevitable reaction.

Through a Wall is as smart, powerful, and articulate--or simply as good--as punk rock gets in the 2010s.

Even though No Tourists is yet another same-sounding entry in the Prodigy's late-era discography, it's also another satisfying dose of thrills designed to wreck the dancefloor and the mosh pit.

Self-aware and unrepentant, the Struts succeed where other artists who look to the past often fail, in large part because, like the Darkness before them, they possess both pop smarts and considerable amounts of moxie.

Only with "Who Want the Smoke?" does the first half rise above the preceding album, yet Yachty's the third wheel, eclipsed by verses from Cardi B and Offset. He's more at ease on the lightheaded "melodic" tracks of the latter half, back to goofy-vulgar observations, musical crib-mobile melodies, and occasional openhearted moments that sound natural rather than forced.

Unlike similarly conceived recordings, this doesn't act as a pleasant backdrop for engaging in other activities; instead, it quietly refuses revelation without active participation from the listener.

Steeped in the lurching, groove-laden thrash attack of the band's late-'90s/early-2000s heyday, Ritual evokes the savagery of Cavalera's tenure with Sepultura, eschewing some of the more overt world music predilections that have come to define Soulfly over the years with something leaner and more uncompromising.

Always in Between might lack the momentum that helped Glynne's debut propel her to the top of the charts, but it offers enough highlights for a fun listen.

It might not quite hit the heights on a consistent level like Writer's Block or have the emotional power of Living Thing, but Darker Days proves that the band are back on the right track.

Although not for the casual music listener, the song ["Legacy of Neglect"] and the album work not only because of Leonard's good melodic and dramatic instincts, but because he is equally charismatic with both quiet acoustic song and outraged, off-balance rock. In this way, the album's riveting album rock-slash-exasperated art rock is reminiscent of figures like Bowie and Reed while remaining completely idiosyncratic.

This is a Western album where ghost towns stand silent and the stars shine bright at night, but the heroes don't so much ride off into the sunset as sink into a shimmering haze of a late-afternoon mirage.

Traversa is sumptuous background music that can brighten the mood or simply soothe the soul.

Segall didn't write any of the songs on Fudge Sandwich, but these performances are as much his as anything that's come from his pen, and if you still need to be convinced that he's one of the freest and most adventurous minds in contemporary rock & roll, this might just do the trick.