As the value of Cole's witticisms, and the intellect required to decrypt full meaning of his verses, continues to be debated, the increased strength in his clear-cut writing evinces promise of greater work ahead.

At 33 minutes, the album is an intense but abrupt ride, with both musicians soaring into bold new territories. For dedicated fans who couldn't get enough, pre-orders of the album were bundled with a bonus disc containing eight additional tracks from the same sessions, which are just as mindblowing as the album proper, if not more so.

It's a wonderful debut, and even if Clarke and Cut Worms veer away from this sound in the future, at least he will have left the world this one slice of genius retro-pop.

Be More Kind is musically inventive in its use of punk, folk, soul, and electronica but deceptively simple in its message, which is as complex as the times we live in.

Profoundly authentic, nostalgic, and graceful throughout, The Horizon Just Laughed does nothing less than reaffirm that Jurado is one of the best songwriters in the business.

The singer and songwriter's second album similarly displays different approaches that skillfully build off and depart from the previous release.

As striking as Immunity was, Singularity feels more developed, and it's ultimately a tough call as to which album is more exciting.

They're a band who refuse to stop moving and exploring their sound, emerging every time with a more refined approach to the music. That they can achieve this with integrity should be celebrated, except maybe this time with a bottle of red wine instead of cheap beer.

An absurdly emotional, innovative album.

The set's detailed liner notes are fascinating and well written, and the music is as lovely and evocative as one would expect from Eno's ambient works.

Anxiety-stricken yet somehow finding ways to enjoy life, BMSR sound creatively re-energized on the excellent Panic Blooms.

While Megaplex has its moments, the pleasures are fleeting and listeners aren't left with much meat to stick to their bones.

It's easily the band's most direct album, but rather than dumbing things down, they've removed anything that might get in the way of their messages. The more defiant they are, the more accessible they get, and they kick off the album with some of their hookiest songs.

While this is easily the most loaded Monáe album in terms of guests, with Brian Wilson, Stevie Wonder, and Grimes among the contributors, there's no doubt that it's a Wondaland product. It demonstrates that artful resistance and pop music are not mutually exclusive.

Rather than breaking the mold, Dr. Dog instead double down on their strengths to make Critical Equation a surprisingly vital outing.

Throughout, very human lyrics, wistful intervals, a mechanical palette, and components that are sometimes altered to confuse organic and inorganic make for an elegant synth art-pop. Like the world her lyrics inhabit, it is icy and intimate at once.

Conquistador marks another fine chapter in this intrepid frontiersman's musical journey.

Altogether, it's a rock-solid set, notable for good songs as well as a distinctive if simultaneously throwback sound.

Working with producer Shawn Everett (the War on Drugs, Alabama Shakes), Sheff has crafted his least-Okkervil River-sounding Okkervil River outing to date, employing a colorful palette of sonic hues that flirt with everything from soft rock and soul to left-field '80s synth pop and Beatlesque classic rock.

As was the case with Hills End, the sonic and architectural puppetry is meticulous and heartfelt, but the absence of any sort of innovation induces a sort of pleasant fatigue that grows decidedly less agreeable with repeated spins.

You're Driving Me Crazy is as energetic as any live show. Of the three successive recordings done in this way, this one stands head and shoulders above for its inspired performances and choices of material.

Right from the outset, the album is filled with dense, complex vocal arrangements, with both MCs (as well as their guests) delivering dozens of vicious caricatures of fake rappers and "woke" folks. ... They complement each other well, and both drive the album's concept.

It has a similarly big-screen and disparate, primarily beat-less approach to ambient music [as 2016's Under The Sun]. Each track evokes a distinct scene.

It's a tight, sometimes bombastic, sometimes sweet mix of old-school hard, prog, and psych rock with a shot of indie-era slacker keeping it all grounded--at least for the most part.

On-stage, these same songs straighten themselves out and, in the process, get a touch lighter. On Tonight's the Night, it often appeared as if Young and his crew learned the songs as they recorded them, but on Roxy, the Santa Monica Flyers have the changes under their belts and are really in the mood to have a good time.

He constructs ten sturdy songs that give Mr. Jukebox the foundation to be something more than nostalgia. By exceeding so well in his craft, Hedley makes the old sounds feel new again.

The Tree of Forgiveness is autumnal John Prine, but it's also a potent reminder that his remarkable skills as a songwriter and his rough-hewn excellence as a singer haven't failed him yet.

Nostalgic Butthole Surfers fans will find plenty to like on Pinkus Abortion Technician, but they're hardly the only ones.