Hostile Environment is a triumphant comeback effort, and it continues On-U Sound's run of late-career highlights from veterans like African Head Charge and Horace Andy.

Smith helps give Blues Deluxe, Vol. 2 a loose, lived-in feeling that contrasts with the eager fire of the 2003 record. It's a change that suits Bonamassa.

The Dark Side of the Moon Redux doesn't offer uninterrupted talk but the stress is placed firmly on the words, to the point that "The Great Gig in the Sky" now doesn't float weightlessly: it's now about a letter Waters wrote to the assistant to Donald Hall when the poet was in his last days. It's a subtle change but it's a substantial one, turning Dark Side of the Moon into a voyage inward, not outward.

An album that sustains a mellow, melancholy mood without quite distinguishing itself as a collection of individual songs. Then again, that's kind of the point of the album: it's a pensive soundtrack for a specific season, nothing more and nothing less.

He's explicitly treating country music as a genre that evolves, one that can encompass all manners of stories by building upon what's already been laid at the foundation. With its empathetic heart and kinetic kick, Rustin' in the Rain illustrates how vibrant and vital that idea can be.

Bewitched offers up 13 tender, decade-defying originals in all, alongside a seductive, loyal version of the Erroll Garner standard "Misty."

Come with Fierce Grace is easy to embrace on its own -- even if some tracks lack distinctive identities. No matter its release as a separate entity, Come with Fierce Grace is part and parcel of GOLD; it's not a mere sequel but a truly worthy companion album.

Coin Coin Chapter Five: In the Garden's collision of styles, genres, and individual and group voices are not only welcome, but essential to the process of Roberts engendering dialogue, celebrating difference, and communicating emotions, psychologies, and cultures, all testifying to the import and cultural and artistic achievement of her evolving project.

Lydia Loveless has matured into one of the most compelling and consistently impressive singer/songwriters America can claim, and with Nothing's Gonna Stand in My Way Again, they have matched form and content with a skill that makes it their finest album to date -- no small statement given the strength of their catalog.

Emergent Diddy protégé Jozzy shines on the slow-grinding funk of "It Belongs to You." Another highlight with brilliantly nuanced live instrumentation, "Moments," is Justin Bieber's new exhibit A in arguing his case as an R&B artist. .... Diddy for the most part is his typical self, ceding enough room for each singer and rapper while interjecting some conversational wisdom, relationship analysis, and random chatter with occasional bluster.

Isn't It Now? carries over the inspiration and fire Animal Collective rekindled on Time Skiffs. It finds them reveling in a state of joyful curiosity, but exploring with a knowing control earned through years of getting to know themselves and their singular sound inside out.

Sit Down for Dinner finds Blonde Redhead revitalized. Arriving nearly a decade after Barragán and 30 years after they formed, it's a return to be savored.

Personal and grand at the same time, Again's mixtape of memories continues Lopatin's enduring brilliance at moving forward by looking back.

It's hard to imagine any of these songs immediately becoming crowd favorites, but as a carefully considered mood piece, Cousin is a powerful, affecting work that once again shows how many great things Wilco can do -- and how well they respond to the right kind of creative direction.

Depth and dimension rule the turbulent group improv in "Were You There" before the album closes on a tender, reverent read of "Precious Lord," wherein in each player -- save for the frenetic Taylor -- engages in harmonic blues conversation. Here, the Red Lily Quintet underscores Jackson's import as a visionary and prophet. The approach to her music combines those qualities of the historic past with the power and drama of contemporary life with all its victories and struggles.

The Rat Road is the type of sprawling, inconsistent work that likely only its creator fully understands, but it contains several fascinating, inspired moments.

The album's anxiety and melancholic mindset never abate, right up to and including resigned closer "Fishes," an explicitly metaphorical reference to mounted trophies. It makes for a satisfying, if unsatisfied, follow-up that both follows the appealing formula of their debut while letting loose on the full-band tracks.

V is definitely a "more of the same" album, but Föllakzoid and Schmidt's human-machine fusion of minimal techno and space rock is still a unique sound that nobody has replicated, other than them.

It's fitting that such a thoughtful work reveals more shades with each listen, and while grasping all facets of reality may not be achievable, Le jour et la nuit du réel expresses Colleen's truth brilliantly.

Highlighted by nuanced ballads, a certain amount of sass, and a dramatic title track with arena rock-ready climaxes, it features production by Alexander 23. His approach also includes touches of alt-R&B stylings on songs like "Poison Poison" that help distinguish Rapp's Beyoncé-informed mix of vulnerable and confident contemporary pop.

Despite the cockiness of its title, his songs remain pleasingly mellow and eclectic, working through a range of styles (highlife, dancehall, Afro-Cuban) and delivering memorable hooks and melodies with the confidence of his status.

Stone reveals a wide musical portrait of the ever-evolving Baroness, who seems to be embarking on a more expansive creative voyage.

Since the music he's drawing from is proudly excessive, it's hard to say Palomo overdoes it, but not all listeners may be fascinated by his meta-commentary on indulgent solo albums.

Afro Futuristic Dreams sums up Ackamoor's career and leaps forward, exploring myriad traditions, styles, and harmonic and rhythmic combinations that further musical conversations to an as-yet-unseen creative horizon.

The album is bookended by "Abandon" and "Earthbound," the two tracks with Giske, whose presence isn't obvious, submerged and seemingly elongated amid dense constructions. It all resonates more deeply with each listen.

His words are worth hearing, but the appeal of Southern Star lies in its mellow vibe. Its funk can seem as deeply felt and idiosyncratic as Leon Russell in his prime, while the backyard balladeering is as tender as James Taylor's, a combination that's cozy and endearing.

The pairing of Le Bon's netherworld production and Banhart's malleable talents makes Flying Wig a weird and enjoyable ride. It's a whole new spectrum of sounds and ideas for Banhart, but it fits as one more chapter in his oft-mutating muse.

With Nothing Lasts Forever, Teenage Fanclub have made a poignant, delicately rendered rumination on the passing of time and the enduring promise of love, all of which underscores the timeless lyricism of their work.