Beabadoobee refuses to be boxed in as she grows as a woman and artist, and on This Is How Tomorrow Moves, she dares her listeners to keep up with her changes.

They haven't stopped being unpredictable and confounding, and they're even exploring deeper emotional territory than before, yet their work becomes more cohesive the more one becomes familiar with it.

Stepping up significantly from the sometimes personality-light commercial sounds of her earlier work, Latto cultivates an atmosphere of palpable Deep South humidity and salacious fun on these songs.

Power more than lives up to the high standards Sarah Tudzin established on Let Me Do One More, and if you're in the mood for smart, insightful indie pop that's not afraid to rock, Illuminati Hotties is a band you need to hear.

By probing the heart's most vulnerable places on Meditations on Love, Susanna uncovers new angles on well-worn feelings and her music alike.

With most of the songs clocking in at under three minutes, when the album ends on the dramatic, 127-second "Blue Monday," with its tight, Beatles-styled harmonies and death-stained lyrics, it feels abrupt, but that may be also due to Konschuh's refusal to deliver catharsis, breaks in the clouds, or healing.

With Imaginal Disk, Magdalena Bay straddle pop worlds, bringing together a maximalist dance club atmosphere and ecstasy-laced, burning Wicker Man euphoria, all filtered through a dial-up computer dream of the pop future.

When all is said and done, they remain fantastic songwriters, able to convey a variety of emotions without relying on the trappings of punk. The corners may have been sanded off, but it has only revealed new and interesting textures underneath.

Oyster Cuts is a softly triumphant album, one that replaces the noncommittal vagueness that plagues so much indie rock with songs that tackle difficult feelings directly. It's a sound as beautiful as it is weary, and one that gets better the more involved you become with it.

Beneath the Neon Glow is thoroughly welcoming. It's a dynamic production adorned by polished songcraft, excellent charts, and peerless lyrics.

While it might be nice to see a little more focus on something nearer to a composite sound, Wishy have already got a good thing going on an auspicious debut LP.

This exercise works surprisingly well and, if one is a fan of this genre, F-1 Trillion knocks it out of the park.

Belong rides the line between dreamy songs and noisy nightmares expertly throughout the album. Most of the band's records are best experienced in full, front to back, and Realistic IX is the same but in a different way.

With Paradise State of Mind, Foster the People have made an end-of-summer album full of cathartic grooves.

It's an album that one can't help but to imagine making for impactful concert moments.

The combination of bright, '80s artifice, '90s cynicism, and 2020s uncertainty here works, if the "fun" is often tinged with consternation.

This does not add up to a Great Lost Justin Townes Earle Album. Instead, these bits and pieces he left behind testify to his gifts as a writer and performer, and remind us of just how much was lost when Earle died, as well as demonstrating that someone should have convinced him to do a solo acoustic album.

Devil Rides In is lovingly curated and offers surprises even for listeners who think they know the era's music well.

A Dancefloor in Ndola provides a valuable history lesson, but it also functions as a collection of great, uplifting dance music.

Dune Rats' attempts to kinda sorta reinvent themselves aren't always a roaring success, but none of them are abject failures either. If It Sucks, Turn It Up reveals they can change if they need to, though they are probably most comfortable just being their snotty, weed-addled selves.

Punk without guitars has been done before -- everything has. Few have done it with the blend of skill, imagination, and flat-out commitment that Osees exhibit on SORCS 80.

While there's plenty of dreamy heartache, it's the often bewildering beauty Chrystabell and Lynch achieve on this album that makes it an artistic milestone for both of them.

Sadly, Flight b741 is the first record they've made where it might make more sense to avoid the journey and stick to revisiting some of their glorious excursions of the past instead.

Even without its publicity stunt release, No Name would doubtless clicked with an awful lot of Jack White's fans, and it's the sort of idiosyncratic but lean and mean rock album he's needed to make for a while.

With Aghori Mhori Mei, Corgan and the Smashing Pumpkins have made an album for those grown-up kids, their fans; a rock & roll pyre lit with myth and memory.

The songs take agile twists and turns, the guitar interplay between Mike Haliechuk and Josh Zucker is satisfying and makes room for far more than the traditional four/four downstroke, and bassist Sandy Miranda and drummer Jonah Falco power this music with muscle and panache. And if the mix doesn't always put Abraham's vocals front and center, making it something of a challenge to understand all the lyrics, what's audible hits an admirable balance between rage and hope.

At the center of all this are Nascimento and Spalding, whose smiling interplay helps make Milton + Esperanza feel like both a capstone to a monumental career and continuation of a musical legacy.

It's an absolute must for fans, but also a great starting point for anyone who's a little more than just a casual listener, but not quite ready to venture too deep into the vaults.