Their latest is just as bright, bold, and bludgeoning as their past work but adds complexity and depth to their sound.

It’s remarkable, throughout, how well Purim has held up, as a singer, as a jazz composer and band leader and as an artist. You wouldn’t know, from listening, whether she was 80 or 60 or 20. The songs are vital, pulsing with bright energy, imbued with a lifetime’s skill but effervescent. Not many women got to play as pivotal a role in jazz as Purim did. This retrospective makes the case for her importance without getting bogged down in it.

All in all, the album is a genial bird’s eye view of life presented in aphorism, perspectives from a man well aware of his aging and embracing it. There’s something joyful even in the moments of tension, as if their eventual dissipation is a given.

The subdued guitars and steady percussive clip-clop are a noticeable change from the band's usual jangly late-afternoon pop, but even on the richest melodies lyrics and delivery drive the album.

Leo was impressive even when he was an unmitigated idealist but now, older and less sure of things, he is even better.

Deerhoof fans won’t be surprised by the sound here — it plays much like you’d expect a side project from the band to do — but they will likely be taken by Saunier’s multi-instrumental prowess and songwriting glee. .... He’s witty and funny and while some of these lyrics may push toward the absurd, there’s a deep seriousness running through the album.

Anyone seeking the nightmarish flipside of a Herzog soundtrack will find H-p1 a rewarding listen.

The sections of ORO are turns utilitarian and incongruously beautiful.

The A List of Burning Mountains performance is a stand-out LP, which shows a pleasing growth of confidence to expand beyond the confines of hyphen-rock.

The pulse and stomp of opener “City of Angels” or the sparkling twilight balladry of “Misery Remember Me” are classic examples of what Ladytron has always done well and why it’s good to have them back. Especially on the back half of Time’s Arrow, though, there are some new wrinkles.

Despite its scant 35-minute duration, Meek Warrior distills the entire history of experimental pop. Just as impressively, it finally bottles the frantic eclecticism and The Gods Must Be Crazy absurdity of the Family’s live show.

From All Purity will never have the impact of Earth’s second album, Khanate’s self-titled debut, Take As Needed For Pain by Eyehategod or Sleep’s drone doom bible Dopesmoker, but it contains all the important ingredients that made those records so essential.

He and his accompanists perform perfectly, with Barker’s elegant leads being one of, rather than the exclusive, focal point.

With piano, female vocals, strings and extra percussion, this is the fullest, most expansive Om album to date.

It’s restlessly beautiful stuff.

After dancing through all these keys of fear, loss, and distress, the record ends with “Send for Me,” a simple and moving pledge to come pick you up, whatever happens. The slow bloom of warmth feels hard won, but not even remotely fragile.

The end result is as fascinating as Silent Servant has ever been.

There is nothing but the interlocking parts that together combine to become something new, something wholly different than merely the additive sum of their individual atoms: the “It.”

The more you recognize its complications, the better Tidings sounds.

I Learned the Hard Way is the sound of a revival band revived, stepping out of the shadows of its idols while remaining true to the essence of its form.

Skeleton Closet is like a good novel, full of implications and shadowy contradictions and complexities. It’s pop craftsmanship with a touch of vertigo, an uneasy sense that something dangerous resides underneath.

It’s a calm, beautiful oasis in Mascis’ coruscating career path, prettier even, because of the carnage before and after.

While it doesn’t wield the heft of a Hop Along release, Likewise demonstrates Quinlan’s adept melodic sensibility and enviable vocal delivery. It’s a short, sweet collection, easily digestible and ripe for revisiting.

A successful homage, What the Brothers Sang seems to distill and convey this vision, showing us the Everlys through McCarthy’s and Oldham’s eyes, but in such a way that allows their distinct aesthetic to shine clearly through.

It wouldn't be a Low record without plenty of unease, but the soothing, uplifting music works at cross purposes to the lyrics.

If you’re a fan of the Whigs, Do to the Beast will push all the right buttons and even add a few new ones for you to think about.

For an artist working with such a recognizable palette, Sadier manages to keep painting in bold and striking colors. In terms of the production, this is decidedly Sadier’s best-sounding solo album to date.

While Antiphonals can’t help but seem like a comparatively minor release next to Cantus, Descant’s 80 minutes, it shares many qualities with previous Davachi highlight, 2018’s Let Night Come On Bells End The Day: refined, reflective, and uniquely moving.