The King is Dead is a few layers of vocal harmony away from being a Fleet Foxes record, which is fine, but the Decemberists are at their best when they sound like themselves.

This album is exciting and promising: Tech N9ne seems to be filling his growing shoes gracefully.

The band put themselves on display nonetheless, incoherency and imperfection be damned. Uppers provides thrills aplenty from a band making their mark during strange times as our new normal sets in, intent on seizing their second chance.

It’s outside the lines at times and consists of hues and shades you might not expect, but this is what makes Fragile Plane a fascinating listening experience.

Aesthetically, it may be polarizing compared to the hit factory that was her debut, but Happier Than Ever stands on its own as a powerfully flawed, overstuffed, but meaningful exploration of what it’s like to live as both a teenager and a superstar in ways that none before her felt comfortable saying.

This EP is a fine stopgap between Morbid Stuff and their next full-length; nothing more, nothing less. The mixture of self-deprecation and unceasing anxiety remains. This Place Sucks Ass: it’s actually the whole world that sucks ass right now, and PUP know it.

There are moments where the album drags, and there's no one that's going to be declaring this a modern classic, but with this strong debut, Young Magic have cemented themselves as a band to watch in the coming years.

Imperfect it may be, but as a concise and focused return, its is an unequivocal triumph.

It would have been easy for songs to have come out overwrought and overproduced here, but instead we have a record of community, of gathering friends around to sing, play with, and support you.

Unsure whether he wanted to create a sunny, party album, gangstafest, or a record of cool pop vibes, Rocky seems to have tried to make them all, and with minor successes in all departments, he sacrifices something stronger.

While the album is a little front-heavy, later gems such as “Texas Weather” provide a feel-good, windows-down sound, soaring towards the end of the LP – despite describing surreal scenes involving power lines swaying like snakes and a friend being arrested for murder.

The Nearer the Fountain, The More Pure the Stream Flows is perhaps the deepest inquiry into the artist – but again, we don’t really know if what we are seeing in the mirror is real.

Mordechai is still very much a psychedelic vista of an album, but the difference is all with the vocals. The bassist of the group, Laura Lee Ochoa, takes command, with her long, stretched-out phrases adding massively to their overall kaleidoscopic groove. The interesting thing here is that the vocals never take a front line, instead they’re always carefully mixed to merely assist the guitar or percussion, creating a fuller sonic experience for the listener.

2R0I2P0 is a fitting summative soundtrack to the end of the year that defined us all. Familiar in so many ways, yet unexpected and challenging in others, it’s the sound of the light at the end of the tunnel, of the enchantment within all of the mess.

Though Moore's lyrics are a bit more obtuse, this could just as easily soundtrack a breakup as Sea Change could.

As easy as it is to get hung up on how similar El Camino sounds compared to Brothers and even parts of Attack & Release, there are instances which set this effort apart from their past work.

With pop music gradually crumbling under the heel of the algorithm-driven technocracy, their grotesque bricolage of styles isn’t so easily replicated or defined. ILION finds SLIFT banging at the walls, and at the very least, leaving some serious dents in the process.

The majority of Playing Robots Into Heaven is still very good, but the album is missing the skyscraping highs of past tracks like “The Wilhelm Scream” or “Retrograde”, and its cohesiveness is hampered by a few lesser songs that have slipped past the slackened quality control department.

Overall, while Blondes' debut album isn't quite as dynamic as the EP, it still serves its purpose as a notable standout from the upstart duo.

Oh Holy Molar isn't quite poetry in motion, but not all poetry needs to be in such a state to be enjoyed.

Warnings is a real grower; for every moment of instant gratification here, there’s another that requires more work. The more time you invest in I Break Horses’ latest work, the more you get out of it.

The band continues such a music building process on EXPO. This time around the balance Ulrika Spacek create is between electronic and traditional rock instrumentation while at the same time keeping the complexity of the music at the level that makes music have a natural flow.

Though freer than the critically acclaimed Ungodly Hour, it is also less focused. Her performance rises to greater heights, but her music doesn’t always rise with her. Still, it is a work laden with potential.

Reflective by nature, it might not have been her expected next step, but is nonetheless a beautifully delicate album that benefits from repeated close listening.

This is a record that feels whole and woven with direction and intent. It may disappoint some who desire the disjointed immediacy of Pain Olympics, but don’t discount Tough Baby just because of its lack of single-worthy material. Give it time to allow its message of hope and empathy amidst disarray to take hold.

In the opening track “Weapon”, Njoku’s story takes off intriguingly with him weaponizing himself, his spirit and his music. The track builds up to a strong finish with rich, cinematic sounds that pull you in.

Sparke deals more in intangible feelings and imagery than precise and name-dropping detail, and the fact is that most of Echo was completed prior to the pandemic forcing a rift between them. Lenker’s instrumental contributions are minimal; she plays gently beside Sparke on a few songs. ... Indeed, the production helps maintain the focus on Sparke throughout.

If Scarlet was the firestorm, Vie is the afterglow: still flickering, still restless, but finally willing to show the cracks that make the light come through.