Everybody Is Going to Heaven is a bold statement full of creative ideas, but it's not without its growing pains.

In the end, the infamous LP isn't the album of the year, but it isn't an artistic flop either, just a pleasing effort from a punchline-dealing party gangsta who knows the power of a good hook.

Producers Wheezy and London on da Track handle most the beats on this freaky and fantastic release.

Ask a Yelawolf regular for a listener's guide then split apart this purposeful beast accordingly.

Odd that "Beautiful Now" goes from horny ("I see what you're wearing/There's nothing beneath it") to Maroon 5-esque (the cloying "ba, ba, ba-ba, bah!" chorus), but otherwise the slick and skillful True Colors is built for fans of Zedd's music rather than his social media followers.

Even though Vieux Loup is markedly different from its predecessors in the Acorn's catalog, it feels like a natural, graceful evolution, and is an elegantly understated, resonant listening experience.

Any Prurient release is a demanding listen, but Frozen Niagara Falls is one of his most surprising and rewarding works.

File this one next to C-Murder's Truest $#!@ I Ever Said as it's a gripping prison album that is embracing freedom upon its release, but know that this is a much more polished effort.

This may be Prinz and Horn's most minimalist music yet, but it's also some of their most rewarding.

Consider it the slow and softer Major Lazer album that's built for headphone listening, but most of all, consider it.

Drenched in Auto-Tune and more frustrated than a ringtone rapper should be, Lil Durk turns in a surprisingly down effort with Remember My Name.

The lack of urgency is also welcome, with Alternative Light Source slowly unfurling as the most natural and comfortable Leftfield album to date.

What they lack in adolescent kick they more than compensate with savvy, smarts, and muscle, sounding like passionate survivors who are happy to fight for what they love in an era that takes such spirit for granted.

That bifurcated sentiment is best laid out on prime cuts like "1999," "Too Late," "These Arms," and the luxurious title cut, all of which ooze atmosphere and vulnerability, but are denied oblivion by the grounding force of Grossi's remarkable voice.

Even if My Love Is Cool sacrifices some of Wolf Alice's earlier fury, the album is all the stronger for it.

As with the album's first two cuts, it incorporates several movements, yet it's hip-hop much more than techno and never fades into the background like a fusty Mo' Wax scrap.

Bones is inventive, unsettling, imposing, and utterly arresting.

The news (good or bad) is that Tweedy helped Thompson make just the sort of album that's made him one of our greatest legacy artists, and it's an example of why Thompson is still worth hearing 43 years into a career that shows no signs of stopping.

It carefully builds--creatively and emotionally--on everything Baird had accomplished so far and ascends to another level entirely.

Feels Like gets high marks for craft but barely merits a passing grade for fresh thinking.

Politically charged punk rock can be an exhausting and overtly self-righteous affair in the wrong hands, but Oberst and company temper their outrage with unadulterated melodic might, resulting in that rare protest album that rewards both the condemners and the condemned.

It's all a pleasing time warp without turbulence, one with songs built more to evoke the past than to last in one's memory.

Holistic in breadth and deep in vision, it provides a way into this music for many, and challenges the cultural conversation about jazz without compromising or pandering.

As it moves from reflective to engaging and back again, In Colour covers the entire spectrum of Jamie xx's music, delivering flashes of brilliance along the way.

This set is welcoming, open, and warm: it invites fans of all of his musical pursuits along for the ride.

You're Going to Make It is convincing proof that Mates of State are far from that less-than-thrilling fate [of playing the oldies circuit].

Ahe stumbles when she gets lighter, particularly on "Family Is Family," where it seems like she can't wait to be rid of those leeches--but it's hardly enough to prevent the album from being a rich, enchanting collection of stories, confessions, and the occasional joke.

Tamia does not to attempt to hit those high notes that Williams and few others have been able to reach, but she gets the feeling across. It's a fine finish to her best album yet.