With The Blue Elephant he has made something bordering on greatness, where his skills at creating sound are allowed to fully flower, his songs have grown deeper roots, and the pairing with Blundell borders on brilliant.

Laconic and acidly textured, Delta Kream is a perfect balance of the Black Keys' lo-fi swagger and keen ear for the Mississippi blues traditions that inspired it.

In looking to creation itself for comfort, she has tapped into a deep well of creativity, and as much as Mercy must have been painful to unearth, it has the kind of authoritative and transformative power that can only come from reaching the final stage of grief.

This album is a project of love and admiration for Tony Joe White, and Smoke from the Chimney honors his legacy while reminding us that the tunes he left on the shelf are more effective and compelling than the emphasis cuts on most other songwriters' albums.

Uneasy offers a portrait of an emergent trio discovering a multivalently complex language while simultaneously articulating its myriad possibilities. The end result is centered, action-oriented music that is at once gloriously colorful and brilliantly articulated.

Mist's classical inclinations take full form on "Once a Year," a brief, yet languorous chamber piece that, as with all of Bring Backs, underlines his wide-ranging taste.

With Memoryland, CFCF looks back on a time when the future seemed limitless, reflecting on the promise of youth and how it's panned out so far.

Four years later, the follow-up, Monsters, picks up where that album left off, submitting an unpredictable sequence of 13 tracks injected with elements of cabaret, hip-hop, indie electronic, modern pop, and more.

A daring balance of vulnerability and creative might, Anything Can't Happen is a striking debut.

From the sweeping "Surrender" and "River Song" to the gospel-tinged epic hymnal of the title track, Birdy outdoes herself with Young Heart, a pensive journey that offers some solace and a shoulder to cry on.

Famous faces Drake, Future, Kid Cudi, Big Sean, Lil Baby, and Skepta also appear, but there's so much quality content to wade through on Slime Language 2 that their turns aren't even the most notable.

The set employs the unique, off-beat flow preferred by the Michigan underground, which Yachty adopts well enough on tracks like "Concrete Goonies" and "Final Form."

Fortitude is a fitting, welcome follow-up, and a brave new chapter in Gojira's continuing musical evolution as they weave old sounds with new ones in creating a sonic tapestry that showcases startling imagination, thought-provoking musical and human intelligence, complex emotions, and immense physical power.

Easily his most introspective project.

Shirushi is as promising and satisfying a debut as any North American group has presented in quite a while.

As a songbook, it's excellent, but it's equally effective as an album, as the trio harmonize and pick guitar with an emotional immediacy that gives The Marfa Tapes a warm, resonant immediacy.

There Is No End delivers more evidence of that. Taeger and Taurelle fully comprehended Allen's musicality and embraced its kaleidoscopic dimensions. As such, it is rendered free of the misdirected, sometimes jagged and piecemeal conceits that litter other artists' posthumous offerings.

The minimalism of Dodie's songs gracefully juxtaposes their sophistication, helping to illuminate the many revelatory pop moments that can be heard throughout Build a Problem.

Truly a band for the times, Squid feels like a wild jumble of thoughts come to life, effusing anger, confusion, humor, detachment, and even joyfulness in their pursuit of true creative freedom.

As always, his saving grace is his expert control of his voice and good musical taste, qualities that prevent Latest Record Project, Vol. 1 from being as sour as its creator.

Ultimately, this record is a triumph for the band, born out of strange times, and although it may not be their best, their blend of bitter and sweet still rings true.

Any of its retro origins are washed away by big, dumb sounds that keep the record grounded in the eternal now, an aesthetic choice that also helps the album be a rousing good time.

Based on the profundity of its content and the jagged beauty in its execution, Now belongs in the pantheon of culturally important works that include We Insist! Max Roach's Freedom Now Suite, Eddie Gale's Black Rhythm Happening, and Sun Ra's Nuclear War.

Hayashi's music can be hard to grasp at first, but it's clear that he's interested in channeling the spirit of all the music he loves while taking it to a different place, and listening to his music is a fun and mysterious experience.

Earth Man Blues stands out slightly from the several records that came before it, for both its abundance of hooks and its tendency to take the songs even further off the deep end. As with most GbV albums, it's a wonderfully bizarre and occasionally disarming ride through warped thoughts and cracked beauty.

Coral Island is the band at their best, effortlessly conjuring up the glorious ghosts of rock & roll's past and turning those sounds into something timeless and instantly rewarding at once.

There's also an unexpected flow to the album, with the more robust, high-energy tracks appearing earlier and the more subdued, introspective ones coming later; all of which beautifully reflects the ebb and flow of life. The Million Masks of God captures this flow, taking you on a theatrical journey that's often as moving and poignant as it is aurally engaging.

They are pop journeymen who can bid a fond farewell to one member as they look forward to where the music and the Endless Arcade will take them next.