It's the Long Goodbye is a fiercely beautiful tribute to a life and the love left behind. Like Mount Eerie’s A Crow Looked at Me, it tells the entire story of loss with exceptional honesty.

"Butterfly Lands on a Flower," the soft, synthy final piece, sounds appropriately delicate and graceful, making a gentle comedown for an album that sometimes lays its emotions bare.

MEMORIALS have upped their game in a massive way on All Clouds Bring Not Rain, building on their already impressive skills as crafters of sound by adding truckloads of drama, plumbing some deep emotional depths, and stretching their arrangements in fascinating and very satisfying ways.

Despite the anxiety and global tumult that inspired his more introspective tone, it's a style that suits him well. If this is indeed the end of Coin Collection, it will be interesting to hear Cullum's next evolution.

Hurts Like Hell is a lovely, poignant record that may not be explicitly about motherhood but is ready to take it on.

Slayyyter certainly cribs from many of her dance influences on WOR$T GIRL IN AMERICA, she never fails to make them her own.

Ultimately Honora is bold and beautifully played, with atmospheric production adorned in warmth, soul, and passion.

Vibrant, unapologetic and expertly crafted, Sexistential may not be a stunning leap forward like Honey, but when Robyn sings "I'm still having fun," her joy is contagious.

Attempted Martyr is a brilliantly brutal debut, one that leaves listeners nearly exhausted when it ends, only because of its nonstop outpouring of magnificent noise.

Ricochet lives in a contemplative, midtempo state where every song has weight, melodies can blur together, and meaning is found in those few anchors that help one push through the rest of it all.

Understated as they are, his songs are also not without weight and his fifth album, Against the Dying of the Light, is his heaviest to date.

It's another subtle outing from a band whose energetic peaks once defined them, but in this later period opt for patience over power.

Although it doesn't re-capture that album's [Things Take Time, Take Time] angsty, barbed qualities, it does embody a similar nerviness in combination with the more singer/songwriter-oriented rock reflections of what came in between.

Trying Times continues a trend of the abstract and foggy elements of Blake's artistry falling away, and he manages to make this transition without fully shedding the mystery that made his earlier sound so intriguing.

More diluted than truly disappointing, Paradises boasts enough standout tracks to please fans -- but with more shaping and a sharper mix, it could've been one of Ladytron's great albums.

Arirang not only stakes a solid claim for the group's place in the cultural heritage that helped inspire it, it's also a triumphant statement that cements the BTS legacy beyond the bounds of K-pop and Korea's borders.

Livingston is a smart and savvy songwriter who also knows when to let the heart cry out, and he's rarely done so with the soulful impact he registers on Cityfolk.

Sometimes all you need to make a great album is a batch of fine songs, a handful of sympathetic musicians, and a bit of kismet. Transmitter has all those things, and it's a quietly excellent album that favors Max Clarke's talents in all the best ways.

We Are Together Again ultimately takes its place as another beautiful entry in Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s everchanging, ever-engrossing discography.

As a culmination of everything she's been building toward in the years since I Disagree, Empty Hands is a towering success, priming Poppy for the arena big leagues with her twisted and wildly engrossing style.

Curiously, the weakest moment on High Noon Hymns comes at the very end, as they deliver a nice but unremarkable cover of Bob Dylan's "Forever Young" -- truly ironic, since the previous 12 tunes confirm the Long Ryders haven't aged out of making music worth hearing, not by a long shot.

Refreshing, comforting, and accessible, Kiss All the Time. Disco, Occasionally. is a fine transition album that points to even bigger and better things for the pop star.

The score ends with a string-based version of "Sunlight Zone," which feels a bit lighter and more ethereal than the original, but doesn't quite capture the same sense of awestruck wonder. In general, though, Midnight Zone is evocative of a journey into the unknown depths, and it succeeds at creating an atmosphere of curiosity and discovery.

Barry Can't Swim presented a volume of the Late Night Tales mix series, showcasing music he's fond of but wouldn't necessarily be appropriate for him to drop in a club. While there's a little of the type of lush, organic house that he produces, much of the mix is more downtempo, often exploring Balearic chillout territory, but also venturing into a few other directions.

Easily Taylor's best solo album, Paris in the Spring is a moving, playful, and accomplished statement that'll strike a chord with anyone weathering a crisis.

If The Collective was punishing in its density, Play Me is its equal and opposite: leaner and more melodic without sacrificing invention. It's an album that reaffirms Gordon still knows how, and why, to push forward.

Add it all together and A Pound of Feathers is not only reaffirmation of their comeback, but the kind of daring and defiant record that it's a miracle that a band this far into their career could still make.

A mercurial debut album that's also quite theatrical -- think Kurt Weill and rock opera -- it indulges in multiple genre send-ups during its alt-rocky journey through the head of a frankly loathsome narrator.