GLUE will appeal to fans of '90s alternative rock who are looking for more, but will continue to alienate Boston Manor's longtime pop-punk-loving fans.

It's a disorienting, manic, ambitious psychedelic statement filled with constant twists and turns, and this is both its biggest strength and most notable weakness.

One of the best records of their 30-year career. Neither prog nor doom, Katatonia sound like no one else.

Honest, clever and lively, Diet Cig's second record is a great juxtaposition: working through embarrassment and shame all while bouncing off the walls to the sound of sugary, cheery indie-punk. Do You Wonder About Me? turns worry and uncertainty into a celebration of being human.

Making a Door Less Open feels smaller than Car Seat Headrest's best work — not only in its sonic scope but in its lyrical content, now less insular and biting. Still, Toledo's talent for stirring melodies and intelligent song writing remain firmly intact, and he makes intriguing use of this new palette.

It's a sound we've come to know DaBaby handle on his own, but he invites industry peers like Quavo ("Pick Up"), Future ("Lightskin Shit"), YoungBoy Never Broke Again ("Jump") for the ride.

Oneiric Formulary may lack overall thematic consistency, and could benefit from Bishop letting loose a little more, but it's satisfying to hear a master of his craft putting his own stamp on some timeless sounds.

It's a tighter and more motorik album than 2018's Modern Meta Physic, and the band sound as though they've locked more fully into the shape they're meant to take — hooky, harmonic rock that seems to glow softly from within all the noise. It's an enveloping, oddly comforting soundtrack to troubled times.

Through For Their Love, Tabish and Other Lives as a whole re-engage with the outside world and analyze their sense of self worth. The inevitable vulnerability is morphed into a sense of strength and confidence, which adds another purposeful layer to the band's repertoire.

With Bent firmly fitting in his place as the band's drummer, the chemistry between the band members is better than ever. What the Dead Men Say is the second of two great albums, and confirms that The Sin and the Sentence wasn't a fluke.

It's a raucous collection of deeply-felt country — a journey through many lives. And while its electric, dust-blown sound doesn't push into any new directions, it's a fittingly rich setting for Rose's outsized personality and reedy, expressive voice.

There's so much more to Good Souls than that aforementioned fiery fare. She and her band make "Bad News Blues" more than live up to its title, both in tone and lyrics. ... Many of those tracks suit the despair, rage and hope of the moment, while also speaking to enough big truths to be timeless.

The album pops with memories of a time we might not have been in, and English's words make you feel alive. It's the perfect soundtrack to the next few months that may feel like an eternity under COVID-19.

From the diamonds on the chains he hedonistically spits about while prospering to the shameless confessions he unveils at the nadir of despair, the way Lanez embraces his flaws makes his music stand out.

Despite being on the shorter side for an album release, Juice is carefully composed; it might not necessarily be a groundbreaking new release on the part of Born Ruffians, but speaks volumes in its playfulness nonetheless.

For now, this new album stands as a kinetic encapsulation of heartache, and a strong showcase — for not only this exciting Toronto duo, but also many of their local powerhouse peers like Reyez, May and PARTYNEXTDOOR.

Melee is loaded front to back with depressive episodes manifested in the mosh pit. ... Yet, by the end of the album, all the words have been chanted, all the guitars have stopped shrieking, all the cymbals have stopped crashing and all energy has been exhausted. That's when a rich, lush string orchestra takes over, capping the whole thing with a sort of post-credits epilogue. It's like a calm sea after a thunderstorm.

Moving, emotional and richly textured, Earth is an impressive solo debut from O'Brien, and delivers one of this year's more fully-formed albums.

Perhaps this is not Sexsmith's most lyrically accomplished work, but it is difficult to dislike any of these lovely, breezy, genuinely heartfelt songs.

Miss Colombia displays an artist who has a clear vision combined with a desire to experiment with sounds.

The scope of Fetch the Bolt Cutters' meaning, its infinite feeling, will likely take years to fully absorb. An album like this doesn't come often, and an artist like Apple will never come again — she's given us an invaluable piece of light, a reminder to stay alive and awake and angry and kind.

While Lynn's aesthetic development occasionally results in the project reaching pop-heights not in its reach before, it also blurs the line between this and Fohr's other projects.

As Benton shifts his focus from big rock choruses to a grounding, direct connectivity, Lost in the Country cements Trace Mountains' evolution into a type of modern Americana.

Song for Our Daughter is a touching recording, and it demonstrates that, no matter the sonic style she chooses to play with, Marling remains at the top of her game.

The New Abnormal is not a bad record, but it is a frustrating one, made by a band that feels pulled in a dozen different directions.

While these haunting mood-pieces aren't exactly uplifting, they have a melancholic beauty that's comforting in this troubling times. Even if we're lonely, we're in it together.

Titans of Creation boasts complex guitar and bass work, mechanically precise drumming, powerhouse vocals and crisp, clear production that still manages to leave the razor-sharp edge intact, with songs that will be exciting to hear live.

Totalling more than 80 minutes of chilling ambient, Ghosts VI is as unsettling as it is dazzling.

McBryde stretches musically and melodically to incorporate country, pop and alternative rock sounds, while her lyrics are brazen, badass and unexpectedly beautiful.

Siggelkow's Born Again is fearlessly exposed, touching on emotions in the most direct way — an infectious, wondrous full-length debut for Ellis.

A fascinating album where creative impulses and naiveté are filtered through a strong sense of aesthetics with newfound confidence. It's the sound of a unique artist finding her footing and stepping in the zone.

It's a pleasurable, sun-drenched record — the work of a band who've found their voice, louder and clearer than before.

It is not surprising that Empress Of has produced yet another gorgeous and memorable collection of songs, yet her consistency does not diminish the unique achievements of this album. This is a perfect album for finding comfort and beauty in the things and people closest to you.

It's more of a steady refinement than a great leap forward. The wait may have been long, but the results are mature and compassionate enough to justify it.

The stuffed effort could be Lil Baby's attempt to showcase his growth. But one mark of artistic maturity is exercising restraint — less is often more.

Barry and Nealis recorded Holiday in 20-minute stretches while their newborn daughter slept, but despite this time restriction, the record doesn't feel urgent. ... And with her incomparable honeyed vocals at the helm, Barry crafts one of the finest folk albums of the year so far.

On 2018's King of Cowards they proved they were a truly forward-thinking doom act, and on Viscerals they've proved it wasn't a fluke. They just need to shed a few more layers before they are ready to assume their final form.

On Migration Stories, M. Ward doesn't change the way he delivers his material as much as he alters the way it reverberates once it hits you.

It's the sound of all of pop history cast into the void of space and sent careening back, transmuted by some unknown force. The ghosts of lost icons hurtle through these songs — passing by in molecular form are the sparkling ethers of Prince and Bowie, the curdled spectre of Genesis P-orridge.

A spectacular followup to 2017's critically acclaimed Drunk. ... It Is What It Is manifests as a beautiful ebb and flow of emotional states, philosophical musings and plain old comedy. It doesn't drown itself in existential dread or proffer any clear-cut solutions, but just exists on its own plane.

Despite its "six years in the making" descriptor, Allegiance and Conviction feels more like an EP of collected experiments toward a new, more realized work. A satisfying stop along the way to the main attraction.

If You're Dreaming showcases Burch's ability to communicate a wide range of feelings through her music, from the sultry melancholy of "Jacket" to the tender reassurance of album closer "Here With You." This record is perfect for closing your eyes and retreating inwards, letting Burch's dreamy melodies guide you through some afternoon introspection.

Though Gambino takes himself a bit too seriously at times, 3.15.20's pleasant moments make up for his missteps.

On Cenizas, Nicolas Jaar unveils a static but emotional masterpiece, an album that doesn't challenge the listener as much as it invites them into his alien, meditative, astonishing world.

Largely focused around his grandfather's piano with decaying tape treatments, Craig's layered vocals deliver a strong, unwavering response to the chaos in his life, while also exemplifying the vulnerabilities of being human. Red Sun Through Smoke is a perfect record for these times, as well.

If you've been following the quartet since day one, Snapshot of a Beginner feels like both a victory lap and another bold step forward in the race.

925 is a cohesive, enjoyable, drug-infused debut about two longtime friends trying to make sense of being young in a dreary world. Despite a few hiccups, the record is a moody and exciting treat by an act to keep your eyes and ears on.

The fearless formula, the genre-blending, the artistic craft on display marks Reyez's latest as one of the better albums in an already interesting 2020. Before Love Came to Kills shines a light on homegrown talent done great.

These songs proudly flaunt Lipa's affinity for all things pop, disco, and funk, spanning multiple decades.

With The Caretaker, Rose is finding strength in self-discovery and returning to the present with delicate repose.

There's a sense of well-earned intimacy throughout Local Honey, with songs that speak plainly and from the heart about deepening relationships and the life-sustaining love that comes from them. This record is warm, instantly inviting and crackling with life.

Illusion of Time is at its best on the tracks whose titles imply clear pictures of light and dark. It feels less focused on the penultimate "Water," which is also the longest track at 8 minutes — a virtuosic experiment that regrettably dispels some of the dramatic oomph and coherence of the album as a whole.

It's Bulat's fullest-sounding record to date, and really excels in its loudest and most playful moments.

New Me, Same Us is an apt title for this introspective and revitalizing work.

The Chats say they don't try too hard while writing lyrics, but in this case, the simpler and less ambiguous the better. High Risk Behaviour is a slam to the skull with each stomp of the kick drum.

Calling Gigaton a return to form is a matter of expectations: diehards will claim they never faltered, while fans who checked out 20 years ago, when things got weird, will find lots to like but little to love. Perhaps the most notable group likely to be inspired are Pearl Jam themselves; too long in the rock hinterlands, the band finally seem reacquainted with their creative powers.

Aporia is foremost an exercise in collaboration — a meeting between two perpetually entangled personalities, an ode to their decades-long father-son relationship and a fitting conclusion to their musically enriched partnership.

Saint Cloud is a refreshing listen from an exceptional singer-songwriter that shatters the myth of hard-living artists and proves that great artists can make great art without a drink.

With its often bright, and chill nature, the album is a fitting soundtrack for the transition from spring into summer. It saunters by delicately, evoking floral scents and pastel colours.

Even though the subjects may not be sung about with as much grit as they once were, they are certainly darker than the pop genre that's entrapped the artist in recent years.

It's an important record because it does dig so deeply into the tradition of folk music, as many records in black metal are tending to do. It digs into the sounds celebrated in days of old, and is the perfect addition to your collection.

Sixteen Oceans is a sign of Hebden settling into his well-trodden niche. Occasionally, one can wish for the unbridled eclecticism of his earlier days, but that doesn't seem to be of any concern for an artist who is in complete contentment of his place in the musical world.

Blandly vapid songs.

A Written Testimony is a solid effort that makes good on promises set by Electronica's earlier work: thumping, vintage beats; dense rhymes that shimmer with vivid imagery; clever references to the Nation of Islam.

The more I listen to it, the more that Infinity of Now sounds like the album I wish Portishead would finally get around to making. Given how much the Heliocentrics continue to advance with each album, it's possible the general public may end up forgetting Portishead entirely. They may not be pioneering a movement, but the Heliocentrics do something no one else can, and it is worthy of the loftiest praise.

While the narrative correctly serves to examine our relationship with machines, and the execution feels as precise as something purely from the world of artificial intelligence, A Separation of Being struggles to find a sonic identity, which might make this a polarizing listen.

Mixing Colours shows Roger and Brian Eno at their most casual and unguarded, but there's simply not enough variety, curiosity or sense of adventure here to dub it as a must-listen.

As their most viscerally intense release thus far, Kiss My Super Bowl Ring has the Garden screaming as much as they are singing, and transitioning between the two within a matter of seconds. Somehow, the Shears brothers are able to make it work.

Toronto deep-funk messengers the Soul Motivators deepen their groove and expand both their sonic palette and social consciousness on their sophomore full-length, Do the Damn Thing.

Waxing Moon presents a kind of transition in Foon's career, possessing full helpings of the despair and hope that is baked into the DNA of her earlier work, but with a further articulation of those emotions, becoming a visible and dimly spotlighted person standing in front of the monolith.

The Districts leave their comfort zone on You Know I'm Not Going Anywhere but yield results that are almost always fun and engaging. As a project with transition and discovery at its core, You Know I'm Not Going Anywhere nonetheless feels rooted in authenticity.

His puns about denial v. the Nile river, or his boasts about being like Mother Goose, land with laughable thuds (though perhaps that's this fun-loving MC's intent?). But Uzi nimbly switches from relatedly lovelorn speak-singing on "Bust Me" to rugged, speedy punch line powerhouse on the very next track, "Prices." That transition is merely one of the energetic and unpredictable performative tricks Uzi pulls off on this stadium sized LP.

Ricky Music shows a different side to Porches as an artist that we haven't seen before; it may be more produced and heavily Auto-Tuned, which takes away from his strong vocals, but it's refreshing to hear a new side to Porches.

Code Orange usher in a new era with Underneath that will alienate sections of their audience, and bring their us-against-you might to places no Pittsburgh band have gone before. They've become masters of numbingly heavy and world-expanding metalcore, but operate within rock music more than they probably ever intended to.

Raspberry Bulbs paint a seductively dystopian image through Before the Age of Mirrors, but its aesthetic cannot fully carry the weight of its musical shortcomings. There is both too much runtime and too little substance here.

Stetson does an admirable job finding ways to maintain a tone of persistent unease, but his compositional skills are tested by the film's reliance on abstract horror with occasional visceral shocks over any kind of concrete story or consistent character beats. Detached from the visuals it makes for a pretty bumpy ride.

It's not a perfect album — at times it seems only a taste of the power that Porridge Radio will eventually wield — but it's an important album, a statement of purpose from a group with everything before them.

Ceremony is one of Phantogram's weakest records, one that struggles to set itself apart in the sea of electro-pop still stuck in the aesthetics of the late 2010s.

On Conference of Trees, Pantha du Prince creates new vistas of sound by expanding his musical palette progressively, holistically and audaciously.

Simulcast is a shining and beautifully crafted album that reaffirms Hansen's hold atop of 21st century ambient electronic.

Whether the band chose to do so to demonstrate their virtuosity, or merely their indecisiveness, has yet to be shown. Regardless, Collector is inspiring in its scale and complexity.

This project is the high energy expected by a mare balancing sugar and spice just in time for the hotties — Megan's fan club — to warm up to for the summer.

Silver Landings shows Moore unburdened and the joy she finds in being honest is both heartening and inspiring.

If Clark maintains the marquee star promise she shows throughout Your Life Is a Record, swaths of the next generation's songwriters will long for her to cover their tunes, and daydream about following in her footsteps.

Starmaker is a world unbound by time and gravity, a fantasy borne of solar winds. If this is where country music is headed, we should all be so lucky to be invited along for the journey.

Though it still flirts with the blues, soul and R&B that he's built his name on, the record has a country-fried warmth, coloured by slide guitar and Southern rhythms. That those Southern rhythms are played mostly by chintzy drum machine, that they're undermined by hip-hop-biting guitar samples or artificial horns, is the record's vaguely outlandish appeal.

There's some really great songwriting on the album and a handful of tracks worth adding to your daily rotation, but it viciously grabs your attention without being able to hold onto it for very long.

Lauv has definitely established his own niche. Maybe it's only a matter of time before he becomes one of pop's biggest acts, but for now, ~how i'm feeling~ confirms that he's doing fine looking in from the out

This record is an artefact of the finest quality released to keep our ears cool and hearts throbbing, whether our future brings endless summer or nuclear winter.

Part one of Sumney's smart double feature proves that art is everywhere — even in the drab hues that exist between extremes.

The artist's seemingly unlimited reservoir of imagination and talent have allowed them to fuse years of musical tradition into a wholly singular sensibility encapsulated in these 18 finely hewn tracks.

Rose shines a disco light on shame, lets panic leap into a bouncing gait that's faked-till-it's-made. And though she masterfully wields the absurdity of hubris, she also doesn't ridicule what she finds. She asks the misfits of the human psyche what they want and what scares them, and gives them a whole floor to do their dance. They laugh together, let loose and sweat off their blush.

Expectations is a nearly flawless record; Katie Pruitt will have to work hard to top what she has achieved here.

Heavy Light, the remarkable new record from Meg Remy's U.S. Girls project, is a scavenger hunt for these elusive pasts — music devoted to reflection and retrospection. ... Never before have her narratives felt so personal and resonant.

This is an inspired album and potential goldmine of samples for future generations.

Accentuated by the pair's newly honed synchronicity and Carlile's expert production, the Secret Sisters' lofty ambitions for this record ring out clear and true.

Unrefined and uninhibited, Fungus II is a visceral journey through layers of chaos that refuse to be subdued. Wasted Shirt's first record makes it clear that the two have teamed up to indulge their impulses and then blow them up.

With their songs, Ratboys document an ongoing search for stability amid a feeling of unstoppable motion and upheaval — whether that means finding a shoulder to lean on, a memory to relive, or a place that really feels like yours. But if being Ratboys is as much fun as "Alien With a Sleep Mask On" sounds, that's some good company to have along for the ride.