A reinvigorated return, The Apple Drop shows that Liars can still reinvent their music and surprise listeners as they close out their second decade.

Presenting raw emotion and over-the-top braggadocio with such exacting balance is part of IDK's talent, and he delivers on USEE4YOURSELF like never before.

Delivering on the promise of her industry-shaking debut with confidence and grace, Happier Than Ever has the markings of a big career moment, one that signals artistic growth and hints at even more greatness to come.

It's not a buried gem or a return to form but a snapshot of an excellent musician having a pretty good run in the studio.

With Heart-Shaped Scars, she's found a home in sparse and spooky folk. Possibly not something one could have predicted when she first arrived on the scene with One Dove, but something that is satisfying and true all the same.

Aptly named, Ultrapop administers a constant barrage of sonic information that shows no delineation between discomfort, reassurance, pain, or pleasure.

Dave makes a potent second statement. His first steps outside of PSYCHODRAMA's concrete sphere of influence continue to cement his generational talent.

Native Sons is a tribute that manages to be more than a set of covers -- it shows what the band learned from these songs, as well as showing us where their long musical journey has taken them. It's essential listening from one of America's greatest bands.

Thirstier's confidence and optimism arrived when listeners in the early 2020s were hungry for both. If making her music as big and loud as it is here is what it takes to get people to realize what they've been missing with her music, then Thirstier is a wild success.

Stand for Myself is a stunner with plenty of emotional firepower, but it can also feel soft as a wool blanket.

As on Union, Electro Melodier sounds more like the work of a commentator than an activist, but he has something to say and he says it with intelligence and eloquence, and as his hero Woody Guthrie proved ages ago, that's no small thing.

More mature than either Strange Desire or Gone Now but just as life-affirming, Take the Sadness Out of Saturday Night is a refreshingly different perspective on Bleachers and a heartfelt soundtrack to millennial midlife crises.

None of the Indications' contemporaries have put together a set as distinctly purpose-built and delightful as this one.

Only on a couple occasions does Bridges let loose a touch while in the moment. ... Even in those moments, there is never an indication that Bridges could possibly lose his composure. The unswerving self-control he has demonstrated across three albums both impresses and mystifies.

Triage finds Rodney Crowell wearing his heart on his sleeve, and it's a heart that's open and unafraid of life and its challenges. It's a compelling and absorbing work from one of America's best working songwriters.

With friends and collaborators surgically removed, Faith is littered with jarring voices, avaricious creative decisions, and a fundamental sidelining of its visionary figurehead.

While this is a loving tribute to Frank Navetta (who died in 2008), if you were hoping for more of the subtle but genuine forward growth the band has shown on later-day albums like Cool to Be You and Hypercaffium Spazzinate, what you get instead is a journey into the past, with all the good and bad that phrase implies.

"Moonstar" has a country-rock air in its nearly spoken word verse not to mention its harmonica break, "Look What You've Done" is given a sleek New Wave gloss, and "Sound of My Voice" bops along on a rhythm reminiscent of the Strokes' "Last Night." These mild departures are highlights, but Texas deliver their signature pop-soul with precision and style on the rest of Hi, offering the familiar while never quite sounding stiff.

It's exceedingly rare for a band to come back after decades away and make something that measures up to what they were doing when they left off. Scientists have done that on Negativity, and that's something to celebrate.

Sob Rock is a pleasant album whose thematic '80s affections add some stylistic flair to Mayer's laid-back songs.

While coming off somewhat like a late-period album by a vocal-era star, the performances and material on Romantic Images still have the goods.

Change's artful, heartfelt expressions of frustration and hope aren't just perfect for the transformative time in which they appeared, they're also an exciting and satisfying reintroduction to Anika the solo artist.

Crosby hints at his folkier origins without dispensing with the musical elasticity that characterized the rest of For Free, an expansion that serves as a gentle reminder that Crosby is in the midst of the longest sustained burst of creativity in his entire career.

It's a new and fantastic chapter in an ongoing body of uncontainable work, one where Birgy has never hesitated to dive into her own psyche and wrestle what she finds there back up to the surface for all to see.

It's one of those rare albums where dropping the needle at different spots in the same song would yield wildly different sounds, but every move is so gradual and well thought out that the wild changes and potentially jarring clashes blend into one another seamlessly.

The result is a crisp, concise package -- a bundle of summer anthems with the vivid emotions of summertime passion.

In sum, it doesn't displace or replace the original, but adds immeasurably to its meaning and dimension.

Total absorption reveals that this is simply part of Sault's ever-expanding and increasingly colorful tapestry, no slapdash addendum.