McCombs would be better served rediscovering wit, rather than abandoning it, thus leaving the listener feeling abandoned as well. But, again, I guess that is the point.

On Sucker’s Lunch, Kenney presents each song with a fervor only teased on previous outings and she has never sounded more compelling. It will be exciting to see how she continues to shape her sound and identity going forward, but for now, at least, she has served up a delightful feast of music to keep us satiated until that day arrives.

His newest resembles an above-average B-sides compilation: something to tie over the diehards while they wait for his next official album.

Phantom Island is a beautiful album that occasionally misses the mark lyrically. The album’s big sound and intense optimism offer a lot of brightness to take in. But anyone listening to a band called King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard should not expect subtlety.

Songs Without Jokes is a perfectly satisfactory addition to McKenzie’s musical career. He’s garnered enough clout behind his credentials to be able to release an album like this: inoffensive, perfectly likable in passing, but a few steps from his best work.

They fire back in 2023 with their most direct record for some time, a collection of hard rock staples mixed with their punk roots that the band uses to pay homage to the legends of their city’s glorious music scene, and do so perfectly.

Their innate knack for pulling off whatever genre is thrown at them remains stronger than ever. It ticks all the boxes that fans would want for a Red Velvet album and has, naturally, great replay value.

They may be lumped in with the recent girl group pop fad, but End of Daze proves that there is nothing common or ordinary about this band.

The project is full of snappy, polished pop-R&B songs that never go too far astray in quality but can be a repetitive experience when considered as a whole.

More than any time prior, it feels we’re getting the true human being that is Thao on Temple, offering her every thought, rather than letting another take her words from her. However, for the more casual listener, the musical barbs and purposeful roughly-hewn nature of the music might prove to be a bit of a barrier. With the inherent vulnerability of the words here, however, perhaps that’s just the blanket the band needed.

The tracks are still unmistakably Sonic Youth, but in a period where each album had a particular feel and tone, these tracks feel too disjointed to sit together too well.

Keys to the Kuffs is nothing groundbreaking, but it certainly warrants a few thorough listens.

It can become background music all too easily: while Silver's work will always have a degree of ambience to it, Exercises can completely disappear from your consciousness if you don't pay enough attention, especially during the last few tracks.

As a whole, the album's sound suggests that of a band on auto-pilot, one that's not so much invested in recording new material as it is in simply going through the motions of recording new material.

It possesses an innate ability to provide complex tapestries of sound and universal narratives of despair and triumph – though it is possible for audiences to get lost in the world they’ve captured without paying attention to the lyrics and still feel something ache within their chest.

What Cardi delivers here is not a flawless masterpiece, nor is it meant to be. Instead, it is messy, ambitious, sprawling, an album that mirrors the contradictions of its maker.

Any apprehensions about whether or not Cults could turn "Go Outside" into a successful full-length should be hastily put to rest.

If The Year of Hibernation was childhood nostalgia, this is existentialist pubescence.

On Gimme Some, Peter Bjorn and John abandon the experimental sound they'd been developing over the course of the last few years in favor of flavorless alt-rock that falls short of the bar set by Falling Out.

By itself, Mountaintops is a big, dry album that doesn't move you anywhere.

When viewed on its own, Vol. 3 is a pleasant, though fundamentally flawed, ending to Smith’s musical journey.

Sweat’s new album, All My Love In Half Light, follows from her debut, Mantic, utilizing the same setup albeit this time she sounds clearer, grander, and more in control of herself and the world she’s creating.

Goons Be Gone is nothing particularly new for them, but when No Age balance their flavors of weirdness with the wildness, it still hits the right marks.

Despite the troublesome personal events during his band’s four year absence, Figure is a strong return.

As it stands, the rest of the record proves to varying degrees that it’s not necessarily reverb or effects that alienate--you can sound just as distant armed with nothing but clean instrumentation and an impenetrable air of disinterest.

Raekwon knows what he does best, and while this may not be as grand as his last, he does just that here, to the fullest.

Remiddi has produced a truly excellent record which resonates emotionally and sonically.

Putrifiers II stands as the moment in the bands discography where they break free of any and all restrictions and leave the door wide open for any subsequent releases.