Contraband pushes Taylor's music forward, if by short, measured steps, and the qualities that make him the 21st century's classic bluesman keep his sound deep and true.

I Wake Up Screaming is an absolute delight, a rhythmically exhilarating, lyrically humorous, melodically intoxicating collection of thirteen terrific songs.

Ivan & Alyosha offer an emphatic combination of allure and affirmation that all but assures instant appreciation.

These are lonely outposts in a landscape without distinction, where the most depressing aspect isn’t what happened to Landes and Ritter, but what happened to Landes’ songwriting.

Suffice it to say those looking for an album on the order of early Squeeze classics like Argybargy or East Side Story won’t be disappointed. Packed with winsome melodies, joy and jubilation (made all the more expressive by titles like “Nirvana,” “Beautiful Game,” “Sunny” and the all too appropriate “Top of the Form”), Cradle to the Grave is a stunning example of the brilliance Difford and Tilbrook seemingly command at their fingertips.

The production values are practically negligible due to the archival effect. Still, Stoneking’s intents are obviously pure and prone to imperfection. A curious listen, Gon’ Booglaloo goes all out.

King Khan is, so far, pursuing a sound that is more huge than slick, and it sounds great.

The second half of the album finds the foursome relenting and mostly mellowing out.

Their return is certainly great news to the diehards out there. For everyone else, at least the bar hasn’t been set too high for the follow up.

There’s a lot here, all of it sounding exquisite.

Old Yellow Moon will be well worth remembering.

A tripped-out masterpiece of transcendental space fuzz that pays tribute to the ruins of Italy that goes beyond the headiest moments of Pink Floyd's legendary performance inside of that coliseum in Pompeii.

The band, seemingly surfacing out of nowhere has turned in an impressive dozen tracks with their first offering.

Needing to prove nothing, Goat have created one of the most definitive musical statements of 2016.

The 5 songs in 16 minutes breeze by, barely after you've had a chance to absorb them, leave you hungering for more.

Heads Up could easily pick things up right where the band left off, as it elaborates upon the Warpaint dreampop while bringing in purposeful elements of dance-pop and post-rock.

Club 8 may have just made their best record yet (no mean feat in a band with a catalog of great records). It’s true.... this is one of 2015’s best.

Club 8 exist in their own bubble and continue to make music for themselves. You can’t fault them for that, on the contrary, they deserve your deeper respect for it.

Given the earthier sonic aesthetic of the band’s previous LP, the gauzy mist of Warpaint may be hard to accept at first, but given time, the record’s sensuality becomes clear, making it more of a next step than a radical rethink.

Long Vacations isn't a bad album per se (Rouse is too gifted a songwriter to make a genuinely bad album), but it has the sound of an uninspired one.

For while Costa Blanca superficially suggests a trip to some Euro-trash mall outlet, listen closer and you hear a dark, subversive critique.

It all sounds like the best kind of disco, but warmer and funkier and rougher around the edges.

Individ challenges its listeners to discover the elusive melodies that reside below the surface, even though the clattering arrangements and oddly oblique atmospherics might prove to be a distraction.

Though hardly the type of platter meant to accompany any sort of festive gathering, Little Heater still manages to stir the senses.

Campbell is at the top of his game even at closing time. If there's no more to come then this is as good a spot as any to ring down the curtain.

Shovels & Rope displays a firm grip on its craft on Swimmin’ Time, and a willingness to use it in service of any stylistic boulevard it chooses to walk.

Citizen Zombie resurrects a band that’s still evolving, rather than a nostalgia act, and is all the better for it.

[Raitt] mostly returns to the quality soft-rock she perfected in her early solo career, but juices it up with hot guitar solos on almost every song.