Articulation balances the sterility of machine commands with the vivacity and pensiveness of the human experience like few other albums in the field have managed. Just at the moment when you feel as if you know where the music is headed it skews in on itself and refuses to accommodate your whims, moving itself to more unconventional spaces in order to breathe and react with themselves, not the needs of others.

The songs he thinks up are somehow both resonate and impossible to anticipate--old and new at once.

In any case, Leave Home is no doubt one of the most gut-punched and brain-addled rock rock records to arrive in quite some time.

While there may not be a song to soundtrack an Amazon advertisement in this bunch, it'll work nicely to soundtrack bleary summer nights–probably for years to come.

In short, it’s an album so attuned to the dualities of life, that it ultimately says something profound and essential about how we exist and move through this world.

A less talented songwriter would allow their music to collapse under the weight of such subject matter, but such never comes close to being true on Bloodless. Part of this is due to the compulsive replayability of these tunes.

While her last proper album, 2019’s orchestrally-imbued All Mirrors, was something of a coming out party for her grand artistic ambition and scope, Big Time is the coming out party for her true personality. In order to do this, she’s stripped away the grandiosity and reverted back to the country and Americana sounds that she calls home.

As the record unravels those far-reaching human touches, supported by the more grounded electronic elements, become the emotional sticking point with a surprising amount of staying power.

King Woman perfects the approaches outlined on Suffering here, constructing soundscapes that are gossamer and pummeling, sparse and layered, heavenly and apocalyptic.

Rarely Do I Dream points more to the intersection of pop and mysticism. There’s less immediate hook appeal but more depth. These tracks brim with heartfelt sophistication and aesthetic refinement. The album is a resonant and crucial next step in Powers’ pop odyssey.

Anime, Trauma and Divorce is a self-help rap record that manages to be heart-breaking and humorous at the same time, and never takes its audience for granted, which is a rare find in any medium.

End of Everything is not an obviously uplifting album, but it is in many places breathtaking.

The only caveat to Themes is that its stark cohesion demands a single two hour sit-through to soak in the weight of its patient, holistic, slowly-unfolding approach.

A significant experiment for woods. Lyrically, he’s as eloquent as ever, moving from abstract images to direct statements, from confessional rants to journalistic quips, from the troughs of despair to the apexes of mania. His use of multiple producers pays off, as well, helping to sustain a liminal space.

As it stands, The BPM allows Parks to showcase what a massive talent for writing and composing she has, removed from any constraints or genre terminology. A daring statement of intellectual and rich dance music that demands attention.

It’s impossible not to come away beaten and bruised by the undulating savagery that emits from a Show Me The Body record. However, from the same wringer, hope miraculously springs eternal. On Trouble The Water, the New York band burn more intensely than ever.

With this album, Curry wants to let the world know who he is and what he stands for, and the music is all the better for it.

While actually even shorter than her last album’s nearly-28 minutes, Here in the Pitch feels heavier, more substantial, and more robust than almost anything she’s done before.

Although this is an album about oneness, we are here for Peng, and these moments where we feel closest to her as a person are some of the most rewarding.

Illusory Walls is a definitive document of the power of their combined ability and belief.

But The Greater Wings, for all its inevitable connotations, is not a downer. It’s a beautiful testament to life and to the people we love and that keep us going, physically and spiritually. It’s also a testament to moving forward with grace and strength, and rediscovering that longing to live.

The vast majority of Ware’s fifth LP serves as a masterclass in following up a beloved previous album – taking What’s Your Pleasure’s core elements and stretching them into wilder and weirder directions. Now, that feels good.

Seek Shelter isn’t the big, era-defining statement, but a transitional album for the quintet, opening up the possibility of rock’n’roll in their arsenal. While this stylistic choice doesn’t fit 2021’s overarching trends, it proves just how good Iceage are at transforming their sonic interests into full-blown epics.

Two of the more prolific musicians of our time have come together to put out eight interesting tracks.

Even if GNX may be regarded as a “lesser” entry in Lamar’s mighty catalogue by many (if there even is such a thing as “lesser” in brilliance), it is a love letter to black culture. It never dodges a punch, never compromises. It’s both as far from the mainstream as a rap album can be, yet Kendrick’s most populist work. It’s a muscular and physical record, occasionally reserving the right to be as however banal as it wants to be, right before turning around and tearing into the culture.

Like all the best songwriters, Tomberlin doesn’t act like she has the answers to the big questions, but knows that simply by being inquisitive she will eventually figure out her own truths, and she’s passing that wisdom along with this record.

While nearly everything else is still top tier pop music, but the Englishwoman leaves herself some room to grow. For now, Devotion is one the year's most promising debuts.

Empath’s Visitor is the stunning follow-up most young bands only dream of creating.