Since their music so effortlessly recalls the best of Jackson Browne, consider We’re All Gonna Die to be Dawes’ version of Browne’s 80’s curve ball Lawyers In Love, a stylistic detour with high points that outweigh the misfires.

It’s a swaggering, easy-to-digest introduction to an artist whose combination of committed vocals, sharp song construction and offbeat, often dark-edged concepts is as creative and snarky as the inspired tongue-in-cheek title of this impressive debut.

The album is somewhat of a musical and philosophical rollercoaster. But that’s all in a day’s work for Everett who adds to his already impressive, uncompromising catalog with another expressive, rugged and diverse gem.

If Things Change has any fault, it’s that the North Carolina singer-songwriter doesn’t cover too much new ground. But for the most part, it’s an engaging latest chapter in the ever-evolving, consistently compelling storytelling saga of one of this generation’s most overlooked roots country singer-songwriters.

There are plenty of bands trying to capture this distressing atmosphere of dread, uncertainty and slowly enveloping darkness, but few do it with the class, subtlety and controlled intensity of All Them Witches. Five albums in, they are confident in their abilities and seem poised for a remarkable future.

Multiple spins help define some of the melodies. Jackson’s voice is never less than distinctive and often riveting. At times this is a challenging listen because the personal revelations feel so intimate and private. But she locks into a rootsy groove that makes even the darkest concepts connect on an album that’s as honest, revealing and authentic as they come.

He makes each of these tracks reverberate with the best aspects of the Americana genre that has clearly influenced him, while carving out his own space in it.

Campbell seems reluctant to imbue a significant imprint of his own. It leaves little that hasn’t been rehashed dozens of times before. That makes Wreckless Abandon nowhere neither as daring or distinctive as its title otherwise implies.

It’s the continuation of a fabled legacy and one that has not only stood the test of time but remains vibrant and invigorating all these decades on. Clearly, The Zombies are still in the game and still playing for keeps.

The material is softly lit and effortlessly assured, conveying the calming and caressing sound that all so frequently added its soothing sobriety to CSN and CSNY (Crosby Stills Nash & Young), respectively. That’s not to say there aren’t rallying cries included as well. Both “Golden Idols” and “Stars and Stripes” recall the outraged anthem of old.

[Kevin Barnes] sounds like he’s gotten more comfortable here, and while that doesn’t always make for the best music, in the case of Of Montreal, it resulted in one of their best.

Turn Blue is the most masterful representation to date of the duo’s successful transformation from lost-in-the-milieu garage rockers to game-changing, widely appealing songwriters.

Voyageur improves on its predecessor by feeling both more intimate and more boomingly spacious--it helps move her away from the middle.

As often as White Hot Moon feels like a diary entry recitation, its real catharsis is in the sheer acts of volume that back up Drake and Greaves’ lyrics.

It's a beautifully understated album of personal confessions, wandering thoughts and worldly observations, all rendered with the assurance of a naturally gifted vocalist, one who clearly has no need for auto-tune or other irritating tonal tampering devices.

All in all, Congratulations pushes MGMT in the right direction. Rather than resting on their deserved laurels, Vanwyngarden and Goldwasser challenge themselves sonically, creating a follow-up that will test even the most astute audience.

Far from coming off as a dry and didactic exercise in replicating an ancient style of playing, Carolina Chocolate Drops has instead reinvigorated old-time music for 21st-century ears.

What makes Nothing's Gonna Change The Way You Feel About Me Now such a harrowing, albeit minor, addition to his catalog is how matter-of-factly Earle presents himself.

By adding little touches like a gospel call and response ("Bones") and a haunting, echoing choir ("Always Waiting"), the listening becomes a more rewarding experience.

Like John Henry, Strange Negotiations is workman-like. It's a grind from start to finish, but an enjoyable one at that.

Van feels fed up and disgusted, intense and focused, on Born To Sing: No Plan B, but unfortunately, the songs, more often than not, end the conversation there, leaving just a few hard knock lessons and some pretty jazz.

If you’re new to Everett’s talents, Extreme Witchcraft is a fine place to start, before working back through a catalog that has no weak entries. But this stands out as a highlight by his lyrical dexterity and the visionary Parish/Everett production partnership.

Much of this revamped version of Psychedelic Swamp is vastly more conventional--even normal--than the record that inspired it, which is as much a selling point as it is a slight source of disappointment.

Mostly though, Celebrants comes across as a bold new venture, one that’s unrestrained in terms of melody, motif, and obvious enthusiasm.

There are no crescendos, no peaks or valleys. It's a straight line all the way through, which, as we all know from watching medical dramas on TV, can only mean one thing--the lack of a pulse.

It’s the personal narratives that are the most poignant.

The harder they aim for radio, the more rewarding the result. Beneath the irony and compact cool, Cake is still a great little pop band.

What The Head and The Heart do best are ballads, even if they can’t help themselves from venturing into other arenas now and again.