The Velveteers are getting better at what they do, and A Million Knives captures that well, but they still sound best when they let their swaggering rock attitude do the talking.

Bateh's voice sounds a bit more worn and weary, not unlike latter-day Nick Cave, and it feels like there's an increase in electronic textures, but otherwise the band is sticking to their stock-in-trade, down to writing melodies which sound familiar to their body of work. That said, there is more of a conceptual storyline to this album, involving a character named Elena and the man who murdered her boyfriend.

Ultimately, Belonging feels like a full-circle moment for Marsalis, bringing both his group's history and his long-gestating passion for Jarrett's music into his quartet's vibrant present.

At least lyrically, Flür is trying to glance forward at the future on Times more than he did on his previous albums, which nostalgically referenced his past. Like his other albums, however, the songs themselves aren't always exciting, as well-produced as they are.

The whole thing might seem too darn cheerful -- maybe to a fault to the more hard-hearted -- but the duo rescue themselves from overload thanks to the muscular energy they impart to the rhythm section, the whipping bite of Aggs' guitar lines, and the overall forward drive the duo employ on every song.

The album, with its loungey, brushed shuffle grooves and sparkling guitar riffs, has its own intoxicating pull borne of the magical, decades-old chemistry between Wareham and Kramer. That's the Price of Loving Me might pull you into a golden vortex of their shared reverie, but it's a small price to pay.

There isn't much on is that My Morning Jacket couldn't have done on their own, but having a neutral observer on board certainly appears to have helped them up their game as a recording act, and it's one of the most purely satisfying albums they've delivered since they changed their game with Z.

With Glory, Hadreas discovers a rare balance between approachable songwriting and musical ambition that reinvigorates his music.

Akpro sounds like he's still finding himself, but his first album is an evocative mixture of nocturnal city scenes and youthful expression, and there's no telling where he'll go from here.

In addition to Earthstar Mountain's consistently warm soundscape, Cohen is at her most accomplished yet songwriting-wise, even offering up an ode to a "Rag" that strips things down to notice the small comforts all around.

Hard Times Furious Dancing is as much a mission statement here as an album title, and the band deliver unfiltered reports on the challenges of the modern world, as well as an invitation to the dancefloor as a place to shake loose some of the stress of those challenges.

Portrait of My Heart is Spellling's most accessible work, but it's still unconventional and unpredictable, reflecting her uniquely magical vision.

The album as a whole is tender and affectionate, seeming to accept and appreciate even the awkward and unrequited as part of her embrace of complexity and queerness.

Arcadia is a long-awaited return for Krauss and Union Station; here they reframe American traditional music in a context informed by modern production aesthetics, yet still sound kinetic and completely organic.

Moneyball sounds both auspicious and like the 11th album from an unearthed Stephen Malkmus project at the same time, and it's hard to imagine they won't have more music on the way.

There is a certain haunting quality of moving into a transitional space from this music. However, there is also a sense of hearing musical traditions combined in a way unique to a single performer, and this is indeed something well worth experiencing.

Some tracks are easier to digest than others, and the frenzied energy of much of the album might make Dan's Boogie a less-than-ideal starting point for new fans. Paradoxically, some moments here (in particular "Cataract Time") rank among the best work in his catalog.

Assured 11-song set.

Though most of the album doesn't feature the manipulated field recordings and found sounds often used in both artists' music, it still feels very localized and personal, as if they're interpreting various environments and locations through their instruments rather than direct sampling.

Can't Lose My (Soul) is a shining addition to the Caldwells' legacy and fits beside gospel-soul comps like Overdose of the Holy Ghost, Divine Disco, and Divine Funk.

"Protest with Love" sounds like his attempt at a radio-ready R&B song, as he sings a simple message of love and perseverance over a sensuous groove. He sings of making the world a better place and turning nothing into something on "The Burden," and he praises the uplifting powers of music on "Strength of a Song." Still, there are moments of harshness.

For Zauner and Japanese Breakfast, the answer is always something in between and more complex and creatively assured than what has come before. With For Melancholy Brunettes (& Sad Women), Zauner invites us into the magic mirror of her life and pulls us through to the other side.

Lewis remains a vividly funny observer and masterful storyteller, and his work remains relatable and relevant.

Bursting with ideas and near symbiotic ensemble play, Cline's Consentrik Quartet is a bracing statement by this wonderful group and a future-forward approach to jazz.

Whatever the Weather clearly feels more "outdoors" than the music James makes under her own name, but it's just as introspective and personal, and the project's second album is another powerfully expressive work.

It’s been said that one can’t go back home again, but as the return of the Loft and this excellent debut album prove, sometimes a trip back to an adjacent neighborhood can be nearly as fulfilling.

Lust for Life is weirdly joyous and joyously weird, and it's marvelously entertaining either way; it's the band's strongest and most cohesive work yet.

If Moonlight Concessions doesn't quite hit the heights of Clear Pond Road, Sun Racket, and Black Pearl, it's still a worthwhile listen -- and reaffirms just how high the bar is when it comes to Hersh's music.