In Black Duck, they draw on many different aspects of their respective, eclectic backgrounds, flitting freely from sun-drenched cosmic country, to driving kraut rock, to radiant, enveloping ambiences, all played so expertly that it seems effortless, though it probably isn’t.

Her voice, pure and high with a lemon-y sharp tang, is a mesmerizing thing, all on its own, and more than a conduit for the traditional and original songs she delivers here.

This Is the Kit’s new album, Careful Of Your Keepers, has a wonderfully languid, rolling, fluid quality.

Contradiction proves mesmerizing across Space Heavy’s tightly executed 45 minutes.

Though there’s nothing here that’s particularly original or knock-you-flat outstanding, it’s all handled impeccably, recorded vividly, and sequenced smartly to make the album’s 38 minutes fly by.

Is it a sleek and assured Euro-pop stylist or a morose, sardonic realist, messy and desperate and unsatisfied with the way things are? It is both, sometimes simultaneously. The mix of poise and scruffiness fluctuates continually. .... The point is that there’s plenty of lounge-y, jazzy pop here, but it’s most affecting when it twists slightly off true.

Musically it feels like business as usual, but there’s a spark missing, as if the events of the last few years have pummelled the life out of the band, resulting in a frustratingly uneven record.

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.

In Of Tomorrow, Lawrie sacrifices some of the pummeling noise and subterranean murk of previous albums without losing his ability to draw listeners into his twilit world. With his voice to the fore and some shafts of melodic light, he once more tweaks The Telescopes’ sound in ways that remain compelling.

Romantiq is a strong addition to Popp’s compendious catalog, one that unifies certain sound selections and approaches while providing ample variety.

It’s been a while since an album surprised me, not just the first time through, but continually, throughout the listening experience. Everyone’s Crushed keeps you guessing, all the way through, and that’s kind of a miracle. Bravo.

Jazzy horn breaks? Twinkling bar-room piano? Doo-wop backing vocals? All this and more crops up in ways both unusual and satisfying. Rutili is also in fine lyrical form. Many of the songs begin with strange and imaginative opening lines.

“Tinde,” at the end, floats a woman’s ululating tones over bare, echoing percussion. But mostly, Amatssou sounds exactly like you expect Tinariwen to sound, like its drifting to you over acres of sand, like it’s moving your bare feet to dance, and that is a very good thing.

Nothing quite so interesting develops; instead, heavy generic riffs create the impression that Dave Grohl may be waiting in the wings to launch into an anthemic chorus. ... This is music that would sound best after the third beer. I hope, though, that Tyler is preparing to offer up some fresh, forward-looking music soon.

Garden Party is full of good feeling. Put it on and you can smell cut grass and barbecue. You can hear the pop of the can on your first outdoor beer of the spring. There are bluegrass-y runs and two-stepping rambles, all blurred on a microdose that makes everything brighter and more beautiful.

Moor Mother, Michael Stipe, Sharon van Etten, Bon Iver, Rokia Koné, and Jeff Parker lend their talents to Oh Me Oh My, affording its arrangements and production a mutability that supports, never dilutes, Holley’s aesthetic. ... Holley without guest stars is no less compelling.

The resulting sound is clear and resonant, which does justice to the music Orcutt’s composed. And instead of feral yelps, ringing phones, and passing traffic, the guitarist accompanies himself with subliminally registered breaths.

Though short, The Window Is the Dream is a perfectly formed and bewitching album that offers both immediate gratification through its measured performances, plus plenty of depths to explore as its themes gradually reveal themselves. This one will be sure to feature highly come the end of the year.

If you ever liked guitar-driven blues punk, whether in its 1970s first run or the aughts revival, you need to hear this record.

Once the album’s 50 minutes have elapsed, one feels a sense of satisfied exhaustion in having traversed a musical landscape both desolate and majestic.

Throughout, Moore’s light touch and heavy sustain and Gunn’s fingerpicking complement each other perfectly. ... Let’s also hope that Gunn and Moore release more music soon.

Continue as a Guest sounds exactly like a New Pornographers record. It’s energetic, insanely catchy and occasionally thrilling pop music. The compositions are dense and clever and complex, but not too much for their own good.

Five albums in, Roberts seems to have only scratched the surface of the folk song repertoire and his contributions to its curation, performance, and preservation. Recommended.

Plastic Eternity is the rare dead serious, head-trippy album that is also a lot of fun. Here’s to Mudhoney for standing on the precipice and laughing.

Polizze is in no hurry to make an impact, allowing the music to grow organically, often spreading out into long-form improvisations. ... Worth the wait? Absolutely.

This is a prickly, buzzy, invigorating record from a songwriter at the top of his game.

The performances are some of the most articulate and explosive in the band’s enviable catalogue, while also making room for moments of exquisite tenderness. ... The album in Deerhoof’s discography that Miracle-Level is closest to in feel is probably 2008’s Offend Maggie, where the band effectively balances ferocity with sweetness, dissonance with anthemic melody. At this stage in their career it feels miraculous that Deerhoof keep on releasing music that’s quite this vital and inventive.

These songs blister and spiral and swirl in early 21st century guitar-centric, indie-fashion. ... In an album where Black Belt Eagle Scout celebrates their home, ["Spaces" is] the song where they finally let the listeners into the house.