It's clearly a challenging, confrontational album, but it also feels like the artist's purest expression yet.

What's particularly enjoyable about Mehldau's approach is how he keeps each song recognizable while making it his own.

On their debut album, Miss Grit questions norms more artfully than ever.

On Food for Worms, Shame don't so much discard everything that came before as they strip away what doesn't fit anymore. Occasionally, the results are a little muddled, but at its best, the album is a thrilling testament to creative bravery.

Balancing bright, colorful electro-pop with a slight air of melancholy is hardly a new trick for Albarn yet there's a clean, efficient energy propelling Cracker Island that gives the album a fresh pulse.

Travel is very much a Necks album and lines up seamlessly with the trio's vast catalogue. It blossoms with new ideas, fluid spontaneity and fresh ideas. For newcomers curious about the longstanding trio's music, Travel is a truly excellent place to begin.

Should've Learned By Now makes it clear things still aren't always a breeze for them, but they've learned sometimes you just need to plug in that guitar and shake off the bad times as best you can, and they've done so like the great band they are. Put this on, turn it up, and join them in the party.

It's brave, smart, honest, and expressive -- an uncompromised vision from musicians with something to say and the means to say it. It's another triumph from one of the finest, most satisfying bands in the indie underground.

The presence of primitive samples and Casio presets suggest that Khotin has been experimenting with electronic music since youth, but through years of experience, he's now able to produce more finely detailed work while keeping the spirit that inspired him to start creating music in the first place.

It's the band's most dynamic, full-bodied recording to date, and a clear improvement over their somewhat rusty-sounding early releases, moving between lulling spaciousness and cathartic violence.

Bless This Mess is another chapter of U.S. Girls' consistent evolution marked by pristine production and a deft balance of hooks and soul-baring beauty, with Remy pulling off the feat of intertwining some of her most emotionally complex material with what might be her most accessible sounds yet.

On The Vivian Line, he hits the sweet spot between challenging himself and not fixing what isn't broke. It's a gem.

Darker and more assured than its predecessors, Land of Sleeper parses the outrage and catastrophizing of the social media age with gravitas, yet it does so with a watchful and curious eye.

More immediate earworms are scattered throughout to appease anyone looking for a radio-ready hit, but they cede the bulk of the album to more reflective fare that provides a different kind of spiritual nourishment.

It's a great reminder of how weird and one-of-a-kind Avey Tare has always been, and how he's still refreshing his strangeness with every new record.

Consistently theatrical but intimate, the song increases in volume, adding components like strummed guitar and active tom drums as Savage's plea -- "Stop haunting me/Please/Just leave me be" -- gets more insistent. While the rest of in|FLUX maintains that song's often captivating sense of brewing urgency and poignancy, arrangements alter as it passes through even sparser balladry ("I Can Hear the Birds Now," "Hungry"), skittering, full-kit indie rock ("Pavlov's Dog," "Crown Shyness"), the eventual acoustic cacophony of "Say My Name," and an art-funky title track.

Heavy Heavy pulls in the listener with an empathetic lust for life that, whether brimming with optimism, steeling for a threat to survival, or reckoning with a perceived futility of existence, somehow never wavers.

Liv.e's growth as an artist has been remarkable, and the vivid self-portrait Girl in the Half Pearl is her most impressive work so far.

Even at their most dystopian, Orbital never lose their excitement for exploring new sounds, and Optical Delusion doesn't get bogged down in cynicism or nostalgia.

The holistic, evolutionary approach and stellar performances on Dance Kobina make it Chambers' finest as a leader for Blue Note.

The end results feel curiously constrained, as if Twain was dancing in front of a mirror instead of underneath a mirrorball.

The set list offers few surprises -- if you don't recognize a song, that's because it's a new tune added to GRRR! -- but the Stones are in fine form, never seeming tired of playing the hits in a fashion that guarantees a splendid time for one and all.

As it boils down, Like..? presents a new artist finding their voice, showing promise in some moments, and losing traction in others.

Shauf clearly didn't want to repeat himself, and he hasn't, even though the soft suede of his voice still dominates the tracks, seeming even stronger when his characters are in emotional retreat. One might be tempted to play this story for laughs, and it's commendable this album feels straightforward and sincere, even at its least plausible and possibly blasphemous.

Her lilting, rough-hewn cadence carries with it the weight, strength, and spry humor of her homeland, and her storytelling rings true and grounded, even at its most mystic and confounding.

Electrophonic Chronic plays like an old-fashioned long-player instead of a stack of 45s, a heady experience that nevertheless is anchored in R&B. Maybe the thrills aren't as immediate as they are on Yours, Dreamily, yet the free-floating psychedelic soul is alluring, as well as a worthy tribute to Swift.

None of these uninhibited songs could have been half as convincing voiced by another singer. That said, it's evident that she's using her platform to speak for others who have lived through anything remotely similar.

Pollen is yet more proof that Tennis make the kind of music that feels comforting and exciting at the same time. It's rare that a band can ever manage to find that magical sweet spot, even more amazing that a band can hold steady right in the middle of it for as long as they have.