Angine de Poitrine makes mostly instrumental rock music that roils, thrashes, bobs and weaves, pulses, jitters, soars, and drags you along for the ride. That sound is just as infectious as their thoroughly goofy presentation; if you suspect you might be even a little on their wavelength, you owe it to yourself to give Vol.II a listen.

This 19th full-length is as good as anything from his stellar Sub Pop run (Below the Branches, Circular Sounds, To Dreamers). If it’s not quite as stunning as Antique Glow, well, hardly anything is; you do that once, and you’re a hero.

This is an LP that is immediately, ingratiatingly appealing while still having significant depths to plumb. It is one of the prettiest things you’re likely to hear all year, but also one of the most edifying.

He’s still got a taste for demented rockabilly, as demonstrated by the dippy sway of “Mr. Lion.” No one ever accused the Bobby Lees of leaning country, but they do just fine here, kicking up a roadhouse swing and even meowing like cats, as Spencer narrates an unlikely, animal-centered story. The weird psychedelic side of Jon Spencer, too, is fully accounted for. .... We still have Jon Spencer, sounding very much like himself, and that’s something.

Setting’s recording is engaging from start to finish. A favorite among the first half of 2026’s releases.

This is a good record. It might be a great one if the changeups didn’t seem so calculated.

Heavy Water is, then, a spring and summer record with a powerful message about the inexorability of both natural processes and the forces unleashed by the human drive to dominate nature and other people. Kudos to Magic Tuber Stringband for consistently engaging both the head and the heart with their music.

So yes, there are songs about serious subjects, but that doesn’t make them any less infectious and bubbly.

It’s Alvarius B in a reflective mood, considering the places he’s been. This reviewer is grateful that he’s still willing to take us along, into the strange spaces he’s currently creating.

Morby sounds at peace in his restlessness and wondering, and he’s captured that feeling, even as it comes in all sizes.

While Moore’s contributions here are instantly recognizable—that guitar sound only comes from one place—Kramer’s are more elusive, a twinkle of piano in the maelstrom, an enveloping ambience of (maybe?) synth tones, the thud and ritual of percussion.

After the relatively conventional, rock-leaning songs of Earth, “Blue Morpho” arrived as a wonderful surprise.

The recording shows a compelling facet of Eisenberg’s music-making, one that complements her instrumental outings well. Glad that we don’t have to choose between her various pursuits. All are worthy of investigation.

Nothing about the complexity of OOIOO’s music stops the groove from, well, grooving. These cuts move and pulse and howl. .... If you like Lightning Bolt, it’s probably because it makes you happy. It runs as hard and fast as any music on the market, but in a fun way, not an exhausting one.

It’s another strange and alluring outing. On the surface it may be Harding’s most accessible record to date, warm and approachable, with plenty of major-key tunefulness and a welcoming glow. However, it’s still liable to wrongfoot the unwary listener with its bizarre yet artful twists and turns.

Orange is another worthy and replayable stack of oddball tunefulness.

Who knew we needed a brace of medieval Christmas carols to get through our current morass? Not me, but Brokaw and Donnelly did somehow.

Displaying intensity, versatility and musicality in equal measure, Irreversible Entanglements is an indomitable force. Future Present Past is their best work yet.

Whether this record is a swan song or the beginning of a very late-career renaissance remains to be seen, but, like the band’s previous releases, Sanctions is perfect for the moment and likely to prove another timeless treasure for those perceptive few.

This is a big album with quiet moments, and if you like your alt-country dialed up and unapologetic, go find Brown Horse at your local Total Dive.

Volume three caps off the series on a high note with its refined, layered sound, featuring contributions from a range of musicians including Allison de Groot, Erin Rae, Annie Williams, Oisin Leech, and Rich Ruth.

Gordon’s vocals remain strong, but Play Me is a jittery record. The brevity of the songs captures the nervous mood, flitting from one worry to another, staying sharply focused for a couple minutes before veering into the next disaster.

Perhaps more than any other record the band has issued in the last 20 years, Sunn O))) best recalls the austere glories of The Grimmrobe Demos (1999).

Pine is deft with a bow. She’s also a skilled arranger, layering violin, viola, cello, and bass elements with a photographer’s eye; the depth of field expands and contracts as each piece unfurls.

The density and rushing tempo are balanced by more laidback, acoustic numbers such as “Snow” and “Who We Used To Be.” And there’s also a couple of unexpected cover versions — Neil Young’s “Red Sun” and Lovers’ “How the Story Ends” — that integrate seamlessly into the tracklist.

Heavy stuff, but the music is often not. Cuts like “Erghad Afewo” keen and wail ecstatically, the eerie vocals taking you to other, more triumphant places, the insistent rhythms urging your feet and butt to move. A Tinariwen concert is always a celebration, and since we won’t have access to that, the transporting joys of Hoggar will have to do for now.

The songs start bare and personal, and if they swell with strings or rollick with muted celebration (as in whirling “In Your Ocean”) they never really escape the quiet, contemplative category. Not that this is an entirely bad thing. There are still effortlessly shapely melodies, fitted like skin with perceptive turns of phrase. There are still very lovely arrangements, a little airy this time around, but neither slack nor stuffed nor overly attention hungry. And the musicianship is, as always, excellent.

It conveys the confusion and frustration of living in a 21st-century reality that conspires against the reassuring normalities of everyday life. Hen Ogledd meets this challenge with humor, defiance, and playfulness, resulting in music that’s colorful, chaotic, and occasionally deeply moving.