While it's not so much a step back as it is more of the same, fans of this emo revival sound should find enough pain and yearning here to elicit pangs of nostalgia (or, if the wounds are fresher, a sympathetic shoulder to emote on).

While a bit uneven in spots, Both Sides of the Sky is well worth it for an avid Hendrix fan.

Bible of Love is an admirable turn for the former Doggfather--now grandfather--and serves as a wholesome but inessential addition to Snoop's protean catalog.

Chenaux has made a gorgeously hypnotic record that feels like a genuine break from life's often aggressive pace.

For a couple days working things out on the spot, Myths 003 came together almost perfectly and is a worthy addition to each band's impressive catalog.

Given its experimental origins, Mr. Dynamite is a little scattered, but Creep Show's sophisticated mischief is so entertaining that it's a pleasure to hear each unexpected turn they take.

Jericho Sirens is rock & roll in its purest form; angry, white-hot, and overloaded with energy. It's good to have Hot Snakes back to show the posers and fakers how to do things the right way.

Like A Crow Looked at Me, Only Now overflows with love, but Elverum never romanticizes death. Instead, he vividly captures the nuances of grief, absurdity, and hope as he and his daughter leave the "blast zone" immediately after Castrée's passing, and that makes Only Now a remarkable portrait of loss--and growth.

There's a Riot Going On is, in its own subtle way, Yo La Tengo at their most uncompromised; it's an album that's likely to separate their most hardcore fans from more casual admirers, though if you loved "Night Falls on Hoboken" from And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out, you'll likely savor it.

On BLUE LIPS, Lo refines her unmistakable sounds and moods more satisfyingly than she did on Lady Wood, and transforms betrayal and denial into some of her finest songs.

Because the Fratellis are no longer rushing toward the finish line, In Your Own Sweet Time can seem a little stiff and fussy, but the group's instincts remain sound, and that helps turn this album into something handsome instead of something stuffy.

The quartet, occasionally joined by players such as Doyle Bramhall II, Jeff Parker, and Levon Henry, roams fluidly through funk, roots music, and unclassifiable stylistic amalgamations, like they're doing so on an intuitive level.

This 2018 album shows they haven't lost their knack for hooky-heavy hard rock that wedges its way into the subconscious. The album can't be called a comeback--the group were toiling away during the 2010s, after all--but it certainly opens the door on another act in their career, one that is sonically tied to their past but feels brighter (and more relaxed) than their first chapters.

While Meloy's lyrics are sharply honed and evocative, it's this cavalcade of sounds that not only makes I'll Be Your Girl compelling, but distinctive among Decemberists albums.

New Path is perhaps the most challenging release yet from the already confrontational duo, and while it's not as accessible as Demain, it's still rewarding and often exciting.

She's made the most interesting album of her career to date.

The set's predominantly reflective mood and nuanced composites of jazz, soul, and hip-hop make it sound like an extension of Glasper's Black Radio Recovered, Everything's Beautiful, and reinterpretation of Kendrick Lamar's "I'm Dying of Thirst" as much as the trio's meetings on Black America Again.

Best of all is "Sleeprydr," where they contrast the song's drowsy verses with a guitar maelstrom that feels like it's been brewing for the entire album. While Slow Sundown could use a few more epic moments like this, there's a lot to be said for its sleepy allure--it's hard to resist sinking into these songs.

Fittingly, this final chapter for the Skull Defekts is easily the most explosive, most elaborately conceived, and still fully realized work in their catalog, and a monolithic note to go out on.

Victory Lap is not just a celebration from the scrappy MC: it's a deserved moment marking his journey from Crenshaw to the majors.

Tantabara puts on an ever fiercer show than its two predecessors, its wild polyrhythmic grooves and ebullient group vocals lending an unyielding sense of vigor to every song.

American Utopia is an album of beautiful and witty surfaces stretched over a sea of troubled waters, and if Byrne is rarely inclined to give direct answers to the questions he asks, it's obvious this isn't a joke, it's an ambitious work from an important American artist.

Though its second half isn't quite as deft as its first, Francis Trouble continues the streak Hammond, Jr. has been on since the AHJ EP. With albums like this, his identity as a master of smart, emotional guitar pop is secure.

Riddles is easily his grandest work yet.

Automata I is excellent on its own; its writing, production, and performances are all top flight. Additionally, it whets the appetite of anticipation for part two.

At times, he can push his influences a little hard--"Hey Mama" is essentially a mash note to Van Morrison--but the impressive thing about Tearing at the Seams is how he and his band seem to be synthesizing their clear influences into their own voice. That's why Tearing at the Seams works.

With Violence, the Editors have crafted a big pop album on their own terms, rife with grand, operatic gestures and heat-seeking hooks that cut deep, just as they put salve on your wounds.

Still Trippin' builds on Taye's past triumphs, such as the remarkable 2015 EP Break It Down, and ends up a sprawling yet cohesive work that reaches toward mainstream accessibility without diluting or compromising the genre's essence. If you're new to footwork, this is just as valid a starting point as DJ Rashad's Double Cup.