The album may take an unexpected tone, but it's not without its seductions. David Metcalf handles the majority of vocals with a haunting, Nick Cave-like quality that comes with an air of noir-ish suspense, and arrangements that highlight ensemble vocals and animated percussion without encroaching on the realm of stomping banjo folk are, at the time of release, a novelty.

A Giant Dog's greatest strength, however, remains their ability to tap into the enduring elements of rock's true grit and create feelings that are appropriately cathartic, dangerous, and fun.

All these nods to the past make Invitation seem cozy even when its words are defiant, and if that seems dissonant it also seems appropriate for 2017: outrage can be exhausting, so it's good to find solace in old friends.

It may not pack the same sonic punch as their early singles, but it has an overall more interesting sound, and the hard-won wisdom and feeling Berman injects into the songs now means that the Pains have transcended their struggles to find a sound, and have truly arrived at last.

It may be a little old-fashioned in places and there's the occasional track that doesn't work 100-percent, but the album is another strong showing from a band that could have packed it in years ago and become a nostalgia act, but have instead continued to make fine pop art.

American Dream isn't just a triumphant comeback, it's another great album by a great band.

These soft, slow songs are surrounded by cuts where the darkness opens up slightly but significantly. It's enough to make Sleep Well Beast feel like a dramatic departure in the close quarters of the National's discography.

Although Young is correct when he claims Hitchhiker is a "complete piece"--it sustains a dusky sweetness from beginning to an end--it is certainly not a polished album. Often, it feels as if Young is singing with no intention of his music being heard by a wider audience, but the presence of Briggs at the board means this doesn't sound like a ragged demo. Instead, Hitchhiker holds together as a mood piece.

With the sheer amount of voices that casually pop up on its 17 tracks--the cohesive vibe and swaggering passion make it a fun listen for fans of any of the two-dozen artists showing off their skills.

Endangered Philosophies is another triumphant, socially relevant album from the masters of industrial shoegaze hip-hop.

Bicep's debut album essentially delivers what fans have come to expect; for newcomers, the duo revisits some of the more open-hearted elements of '90s dance music without succumbing to the period's cheesiest trappings.

Much of Reservoir feels like an exercise in fussy production techniques layered over material by an artist who holds plenty of promise, but hasn't quite found her voice.

One could easily imagine hearing these songs at a store and bopping along as you shop. However, where their '90s idols oozed personality and hooks that defined an era, on their album, Fifth Harmony often just sound fine.

It's an album filled with wonderful moments from the delicious grooves of "Evil" to "Mother Fighter's" entrancing hooks, and they only ever serve to deepen Shah's message.

Orc is another classic Oh Sees album that shows no signs of wear and tear anyplace in the operation.

Anyone who missed Hype Williams the first time around should start with any of the group's early albums rather than this, but there's no guarantee that they'll make any more sense.

Much like its name, Good Nature is well-meaning and polite, but doesn't do quite enough to distinguish itself.

On the strictly drum'n'bass side, "Tribute" is a smooth, relaxing roller with some dusky late-night trumpet, and "Tribes" is a brassy, percussive workout which borders on clownstep. Besides all of these, there's several more radio-ready pop songs which use drum'n'bass to elevate the drama.

Music for People in Trouble is rooted in empathy, and even at its most cynical--the woebegone "No One Believes in Love Anymore" comes to mind--the warmth of its core radiates outward.

Though there's nothing here to grab headlines, A Deeper Understanding reclaims and explores the distinctive soundscapes, vastness, and haunted psyche of Lost in the Dream, and that in itself is significant.

Ultimately, it's that balance of harmonically adventurous exploration and no-holds-barred blowing that make Far from Over nothing short of thrilling.

On All We Know, PVRIS take a crucial step on the right course toward finding their own trademark sound.

Seekers and Finders is as riotous, poignant, and fun as anything by Gogol Bordello; that said, Hutz's raw production is a closer reflection of the band's live sound.

Villains [is] a dark joy, a record that offers visceral pleasure in its winking menace.

While Impressions does seem a little weighed down, it's really a document of their struggle, making their second attempt to leave the runway somewhat relatable; inevitably, it's hard not to root for them as they spread their wings independently.

More about creating a low-wattage soundtrack for chemical and sexual mischief than foundations for songs.

Despite its varying sonic proclivities, Modern Ruin is a punk album at heart, but that Carter ends this latest salvo with hope for a better, more empathy-driven future for his child shows that he's capable of more than just mosh pit-inducing invective.

It may not be a step forward, but it is a strong step in a very pleasing direction, especially for fans of a more unfiltered Iron & Wine.