Taken together, The Power of Rocks is a pleasantly puckish jumble -- which in this case may well mean mission accomplished.

Descension is a collaboration for the ages: It is ecstatic, improvised jazz that reverberates inside the human body like a heartbeat.

Black to the Future jams is a staggering achievement. Musically and culturally, Sons of Kemet not only holistically conceive of a future, they begin to create one right now.

While The Monster Who Hated Pennsylvania doesn't necessarily break new ground, it's a strong, affecting set from a songwriter who proves himself among the elite at doing more with less.

It's dramatic, it's grand, and it proves yet again that Martin Phillipps hasn't lost a step and will hopefully go on for a long time making records as good as Scatterbrain.

Weller may often be adventurous, particularly during the third act inaugurated with 2008's 22 Dreams, yet he rarely seems as loose and playful as he does here, and that sense of mischief is an unexpected and welcome gift.

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.