For all their self-deprecation and ramshackle bombast, there's no hiding the band's innate musicality, which reveals itself in the myriad of clever changes and occasional bursts of slick vocal harmony, especially on the epic closer "Pine Point." If the dream really is over for PUP, they sound awfully confident.

Rhythmically a balanced mix of energetic grooves and melancholy explorations, the album is wall-to-wall artful expression that finds a songwriter thriving as part of a four-piece.

The album isn't perfect, but at their best, Kikagaku Moyo excel at their unique, thrilling brand of psychedelic acid folk.

Lyrically, this is among the sharpest and wittiest collections of songs this band has ever released. Add in the similarly fine music, and Solid States demonstrates the Posies have plenty of fresh ideas and great records left in them after three decades.

Micky looks at the past not with sad reverence but with a smile, happy that he was there and happy to be able to sing about it still, and that's the vibe of Good Times!: it was a blast to live it then and it's a blast to relive those times too.

Any listener who has derived satisfaction from Snarky Puppy's live recordings will easily find it here, too. This is the place where musical restlessness and discipline meet creative adventure.

For the second time, Leon Vynehall has crafted an exquisite album of cheerful, jubilant tracks to get blissfully lost in.

It is the most artfully rendered and sophisticated recording in her catalog, the work of a mature artist in full command of a sonic language. It's also a hell of a lot of fun to listen and dance to.

The album is at its best, though, when Butler is cranking up the big rock and Jackson belts out melodies as straight and clear as an empty motorway. British Road Movies has plenty of that, and if it's not quite enough to make anyone forget the Long Blondes, it's a definite reminder to keep in touch with Kate Jackson.

And yet for all its troubles, the South remains both her home and her muse, and these eerie gothic blues make for one very enchanting debut.

These People functions as a pleasing adult alternative record.

While some of these cuts work better than others, the range is impressive, as is Grande's measured, assured performance.

Like Bringing Back the Sunshine before it, If I'm Honest is at its core a balladeer's record, and Shelton pulls off these romance tunes with a sly, masculine grace that complements the album's sleek modern surfaces.

Wild Pendulum makes a strong case that the Trash Can Sinatras may never lose the plot. It's also quite likely the best sophisticated guitar pop album anyone is likely to hear in 2016, made either by whippersnappers or old-timers.

All throughout Ripcord, the electronic elements are at the forefront and foundation, but it's to Urban's credit that this never feels desperate or pandering: it's a smooth, logical progression that makes his music feel sleek and mature.

Throughout, the album never loses its quietly hypnotic, reflective character or its soft-footed, ornate chamber-folk palette, transporting us to a distinct and remote destination that's nonetheless intimately relatable.

It's a good-time record, but one intended to showcase how Mudcrutch hit harder and dig a bit deeper than they initially seemed to do.

They may lack the immediacy of some of their more envelope-pushing contemporaries, but as sonic world-builders they excel, and certainly possess the acumen to expand those horizons on future outings.

His idiosyncratic, mumbled vocal delivery might occasionally make understanding the lyrics a bit of a challenge, but it's also one of his unique distinctions and with The Party, he's added another strong outing to his canon.

Rock history teaches us you can't will a masterpiece into existence, but with Car Seat Headrest's Teens of Denial, Will Toledo has created something like a novel after previously offering us short stories, and it's a piece of rough-hewn brilliance.

Whether it showcases a singer with a guitar or circular improvisations on a theme, most of Day of the Dead follows a similarly understated, tasteful path and, ultimately, that's what's impressive about it: it is a tribute to the Grateful Dead as sonic adventurers, pioneering new avenues into space and beyond.

It's not a vibe record so much as it's an album about the interplay of old pros who still get a kick playing those same old changes years after they've become second nature.

As always, In Glendale is a lot of fun, especially for fans who are prepared to smile in recognition at these songs rather than laugh at them.

Oscar displays a light touch that ensures Cut and Paste is a charming, unpretentious confection of an album, as well as a promising debut.

After such a long journey, the original lineup have finally made an album together and it's every bit as triumphant and evocative for fans as it is for the quartet who have finally fulfilled a vision they had at the turn of the millennium.

The Triad is an expansion of Pantha du Prince's otherworldly sound into a more human realm, but it still maintains its ethereal, magical qualities.

Blau places himself completely in his producer's hands. He digs into these lyrics and charts for all he's worth, delivering a gem that is as timeless as its songs.

The results are understated yet extraordinary, an idiosyncratic, romantic vision of 20th century America.