Side-Eye NYC (V1.IV) offers an astonishing portrait of the many places Metheny has been, and intimates where he may yet go. It's an album that virtually all of his fans can celebrate. It may also lead to another generation discovering him.

It's a colorful, wide-ranging romp of an album -- and an airy liberation for its titular figure.

Fans of the group more interested in songs might feel short changed at first, but further listens only intensify the cohesive power and pocket grandeur of the record.

Like many artists who have stripped away the noise and rough edges from their sound, what's left over isn't as interesting as it could be, and it's hard not to imagine that the songs on Cool would be better off with a layer of liberally applied grungy fuzz coating them.

For the most part, the band plays things relatively safe. Even so, the Vaccines are adept enough architects of early aughts U.K. guitar rock (Kaizer Chiefs, Franz Ferdinand, etc.) to know how to craft an earworm, and the reliable Back in Love City is filthy with hooks, even if you've heard them a million times before.

God Is Partying might be his most honest piece of work. Playing all of the instruments himself and singing in a more direct style than on any of his previous releases, he lays bare his soul with a newfound earnestness that compliments rather than conflicts with his longtime brand.

Their rapid growth is as head-spinning as the songs themselves, lending a triumphant air to Comfort to Me that keeps Amyl and the Sniffers primed and ready to conquer the world -- again.

Not so much a retreat as a celebration of what Sleigh Bells do best, Texis' finest moments thrive on the razor's edge between sweetness and annihilation.

Sparhawk and Parker are still trying to make sense of a world that seems increasingly alien, and the paradox of raging against the artificiality while using it as a creative choice is powerfully effective here.

Her self-produced full-length debut feels more elaborate than her EPs while also seeming impulsive and off-the-cuff.

Listen closely, it's evident that Star-Crossed is a quintessential divorce record--the story is laid out quite clearly in its 15 songs--but in a practical sense, the album delivers sophisticated mood music, providing a soothing soundtrack for all manners of quiet domestic activities.

Both occasionally cringy and refreshing for its willingness to express bitterness, History of a Feeling's greatest strength lies in its emotional honesty.

Seinfeld has mentioned that the album's title refers to how he's been able to reflect on who he is through experiences such as relationships and family trauma, and his music skillfully expresses a mixture of loneliness, uncertainty, and wistful nostalgia.

As it stands now, the album is an overlong, undercooked, and cliched listen that will no doubt appeal to the Drake fans who can't get enough of him, but will leave anyone looking for something new sadly out of luck.

The epic Senjutsu is another distended late-career triumph, albeit one that requires multiple spins to set up camp in your Homeric metal-craving cranium.

The Witness is a consumptive listening experience, designed with precision and purpose in the same way as the immersive albums that came before it by Portishead, Talk Talk, Radiohead, and other artists willing to take their time systematically disassembling and rebuilding their music.

Donda isn't without its highlights, but taken as a whole, it's both confused and confusing.

Tess Parks' simmering vocals on the title track drive home the range of Korody's colorful vision, simultaneously offering up a reimagination of Manchester's swirling '90s peak, while at the same time feeling futuristic and unfamiliar.

At under 40 minutes, Liberation Time is relatively brief but free of excess. Despite employing three very different ensembles, McLaughlin delivers a focused album that is as dazzling as it is thought provoking.

Remarkably, the most effective moments in this vein occur when the leader assumes a background position, lending synthesizer shading and warped effects as mallets and flute link and skip at the fore of "P64 by My Side." For the most part, this is a jazz date -- an inviting and beatific one that frequently evokes classic '70s jazz-funk.

Feel Flows moves the microscope over to one of the group's more interesting and quietly transformative phases, a curious time when their hopes to remain culturally relevant lived alongside some of their most inspired songwriting moments, and an earnest desire to grow artistically.

There's a lot of subtlety here and it might take a number of listens to fully appreciate Lost Futures' peculiar spread of dynamics. But, like any grower, its slow revelation is part of its charm.

The songs jump from pounding metal excursions to tightly wound modern rock to synthy weirdness, each one ripping cleanly through the speakers with nary a ragged edge or stray shard of feedback. Take any track and let the guitars loose, add some unhinged drumming, do some howling instead of harmonizing, and almost every song would be vintage Segall. Wrapped up tightly in slick modern clothes, they are something new. ... Harmonizer is an exciting and intriguing addition to his bursting-at-the-seams discography.

In subtle ways, this album ties together all of the various disciplines Gunn has previously explored, from American primitive guitar playing to jazz, folk, indie rock, and drone music. Yet it is also something entirely new with a unique sound that is a joy to spend time with.

Not only is Screen Violence Chvrches’ finest work since The Bones of What You Believe, it’s also their most purposeful. It feels like they took stock of who they want to be and what they want to say, and these epic songs about letting go but holding onto the ability to feel make for a stunning creative rebirth.

It's raw and fearless, and just as the earliest Nite Jewel albums quietly set the course for entire musical movements of their time, it wouldn't be surprising if No Sun helped usher in a new era of forward-moving conceptual pop.

While How Long Do You Think It's Gonna Last?'s mellow poignancy is likely to stick more than any of its songs; its pathos is genuine and immersive.

With Reznor and Ross supporting such a weighty artistic vision, Halsey takes a huge leap forward with this course-changing opus, a revelation that finally presents their most authentic representation of self.