While Daddy's Home may not be her best record, it's a bold and rewarding one.

The artistically revelatory voyage into Droog's at-times nostalgic, at-times comically bizarre world proves well worth the 40-minute trip.

With Memory, it's apparent that Lazer Sword have toiled over the big picture, leaving little room for twelve-inch singles, all the while crafting an absorbing full-listen.

The most striking aspect of Asiatisch is the confidence of Al Qadiri's sound, demonstrating that the quality of her music has finally caught up with her artistic ambitions.

Personal tumult is not an unusual topic for an album, especially by someone in their 20s, but McMahon's sharp lyrical phrases and outstanding voice are enough to make Salt a fresh and exhilarating debut.

With Older, McAlpine enters a new era of her career, armed with bluesy seventh chords and simple rhythms. She's done the work; she's done the soul-searching; she's done the meticulous labour of shaving her thoughts down to their purest, most authentic truths. Consider the ceiling of her last album cycle shattered.

Pale Horses compiles all of the strengths of mewithoutYou into a gorgeous, dense package that remains engaging throughout.

Nausea is the perfect lazy summer album with a hidden depth that slowly unfolds to reveal a work of sincere beauty.

The cozy impressions brought to mind both by Scott's music and the image of him at work in his Asheville refuge are also set against some relatively dark themes.

Combining the passionate onslaught of hardcore with a reasonable portion of grunge and radio-ready power pop, the New York group's cynical punk tone often feels effortless. If you're just hearing of Drug Church or weren't sold on their two prior works, now's the time to stay for a sermon.

On Black Metal, Blunt's style is still very difficult to classify, yet a hint more inviting and amicable than his last.

The atmosphere of Lo Moon, which melds gloom with instrumental experimentation and a welcome pop sensibility, has gifted listeners with a record that stands apart. It's got a glow all its own.

They have made their most consistent release yet, stretching the earworm-y catchiness their album Weeds employed.

The arrangements are beautiful, borderline orchestral, and contribute to an expanding Horse Feathers soundscape. While the mood that Ringle is trying to strike with these ten tracks belies easy definition, what's clear is that Horse Feathers are forging a new way forward.

On THR!!!ER, !!! have finally found a happy medium between playful and goofy, epic and bloated, tongue-in-cheek and just plain chic.

On In Sickness & in Flames, the Front Bottoms decided to let their stream of consciousness dictate the majority of the 12 songs on this album, it's harder to decipher what many of them even mean. It's infuriating, but that's what also why band has such a dedicated fanbase.

The result is a far livelier and live-sounding album than one would expect from a group this deep into their career.

Here, she moves through songs about love and life that, whether because of the cavernous, sometimes tinny production or her timeless songwriting style (and often, both), feel channelled from some ghostly past where musical arrangement was simpler but emotions weren't.

With every moment of unflinching social commentary, the Linda Lindas let listeners in to the smouldering embers of youthful promise we all have before the weight of the world eventually crushes our spirit.

On the spooky, very unorthodox The Southern Surreal, Legendary Shack Shakers have successfully brewed styles to create an album that is undeniably fascinating.

World Eater matches its brutal releases with hope and luminosity. It's a radical, adventurous exploration--and celebration--of the relationship between darkness

SABLE, fABLE won't just make your head bob — it'll also make you excited for Bon Iver's next inevitable curveball.

The recording savvy of producer Kyle Gilbride of Swearin' helps sharpen the band's jagged edges and gets them to sound truly potent, playing through each one-minute tune like they were running out of studio time.

With a fine balance of clean singing between Scabbia and Ferro, atop the technicality of strings and beats, there's something for everyone.

Virgin is the kind of album that makes you realize something you hadn't really before: until now, Lorde was operating at an emotional distance. .... Virgin feels like a rebirth.

Just consider it a solid project from an artist who, after creating albums since the late-90s, is finally getting her recognition in front, instead of behind the curtain.

Fans of previous Boys Noize release Oi Oi Oi will be pleased to find the elements that made that record so vital are still present.

It's too familiar-sounding to be revelatory, but six years on from A Moon Shaped Pool — the longest-ever break between Radiohead albums — it's a pleasure to hear Yorke and Greenwood's talent undiminished as they hit the sweet spot of their sound.

At times Williams nearly overdoes it--he's transformed Billy Fury's "I'm Lost Without You" into an oddly sepia-toned, sweeping string arrangement--but ultimately, it's for the better that he takes these chances.

Davies somehow hasn't lost a step along the way. Between his inimitable acerbic wit (the withering "Poetry" is peak Davies) and his generous attention to quirky detail (his ode to the road trip "The Great Highway" is a highlight), longtime fans will find much to celebrate here.

Dying field or not, the Beths' third LP is a reaffirmation that the band are ready and willing to go down with the ship.

An album that challenges, even as it brings a 17-year band to its conclusion. As a coda for Frog Eyes, it's hard to imagine a more potent sendoff.

Nothing feels forced; rather, the album gently unfurls at a languid pace. DeMarco remains the relatable everyman, his laidback delivery happily coexisting alongside his ever-present mastery of the titular instrument ("Rock and Roll," "Holy").

Combining Latin rhythms, call-and-response vocals and funk stings, the brass'n'bass music of the Marković Orkestar relies on pure fury and sexuality in a genre built upon romantic passion and tradition.

Mirror Reaper is certainly an outstanding accomplishment in the Bell Witch catalogue. It may be their most emotionally stirring and musically ambitious record to date.

It's this constant dynamic of push-pull throughout that makes Ancient Future a compelling listen.

The minor tunings work and, as a result, Nobody Realizes gives Terry Malts the added depth some may have felt was missing.

Time 'n' Place is challenging, but its rewards are commensurate, and while the band may lose some of their more fickle fans with this release, it's always refreshing to see artistic growth put first, especially when it pays off like this.

It's dreamy eccentricity; a little crazy and courageous, and a strong statement.

It would have been really easy for Temples to pump out Sun Structures 2.0, but they took a chance, and the result is some really exciting rock'n'roll.

On What If, Hauschka delivers an unbuttoned works that's just as revitalizing for the listener as it sounds for the artist.

Thankfully, he quickly debunks any clichés about artists needing to be tortured on Kids, which marks the grown-up Earle's glorious return to form.

It has the type of energy that invades, penetrates and carries the listener forward; it's the perfect balance of seduction and strength.

The result is a record that is powerfully alluring and timeless.

Although Young's had plenty of highs and lows throughout his sprawling discography, there's no question that each of his 38 studio LPs were results of a particular vision, and Hitchhiker benefits greatly from this fleeting vision captured over a single evening in 1976.

In allowing others back into the fray and stripping their sound, Longstreth has once again tapped into what made the band so engrossing in the first place. 5EPs feels like a restart, a long and considered exhale.

Die-hard Windhand fans won't be disappointed by Grief's Infernal Flower, and new fans mind find it serves nicely as a jumping off point to get more familiar with the group's material. Either way, it's an excellent addition to a record collection for doom fans everywhere.

Though Khan has grown with the responsibilities of adulthood, he has obviously retained the ability to produce fun, high energy tunes with ease.

The Loud Silence finds the producer showcasing his boundless creativity while working within a self-imposed, limited framework. Once again, he's come out successful.

While continuing to work in the box they've created for themselves, Yuck come across as far more amorphous than many first thought while still making an album that delivers on the promise of their shambolic debut.

The overall tempo has slowed, allowing for more instrumental variation and a chance for the band to explore the new musical terrain (which they thoroughly do).

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.

This back-and-forth is carried along throughout Arca, demonstrating that Ghersi hasn't lost his fondness for tempered electronic cacophony (see "Castration" and "Whip"), but has expanded his palette, to mind-bendingly gorgeous results.

The Ash & Clay is an album sure to become increasingly meaningful with time.

The result is Deep in the Iris, a musical mash-up of acoustic and electronic influences that's both achingly vulnerable and tentatively joyful.

The Dream Is Over has no pretext or pretence; the band did what they did best in 2013, and then did it a bit better here.

It's a very welcoming album that will please Pastels fans, and hopefully find some new ones.

More nuanced and compelling than the Watts native's underrated debut, 2011's Follow Me Home, Jay Rock's zip code-titled effort should be copped for the first Black Hippy posse cut since 2012 alone.

Colleen continues to craft uniquely personal experimental music with a clear artistic voice, and her latest release might be her greatest achievement yet.

Rays of light shine through on the glitzy, sparkling "So Clear," where she realizes after "ten thousand days" — as in, the late-twenties — fucking up is necessary to incite change. At this point, Folick looks back at the first half of the album with a fresh, wisened perspective. In doing so, it feels euphoric to see the extent of her growth.

Unraveling is cut from a richer, darker cloth than their earlier works, making it a bold departure and a tense new direction well worth exploring.

This is clearly their best work to date.

Tejada's Signs Under Test comes across differently--there is a timeless quality to the album, one that suggests it will still be as relevant and appreciated long after many of its contemporaries have faded away.

A great, often excellent effort containing at least a couple outstanding moments that see Future Islands really crystallize as its best self. There are some overly familiar moments and the album essentially offers more of the same, but it’s arguably their best work since Singles, the group’s still-reigning high-water mark.

A much more risky, expansive and intriguing listen [than Long.Live.A$AP].

She's a straight shooter, and Trouble & Love hits right to the heart.

With Human Performance, Parquet Courts have managed to cram in a lot. Lesser bands might have made a mess attempting a project like this, but what separates Parquet Courts is their adaptability and understanding of the subject matter.

Recorded live with no overdubs or loops, Never were the way she was is a perfect blend of Neufeld's violin virtuosity and Stetson's outside-the-box approach to saxophone and clarinet, their styles complementing yet pushing each other to new heights.

High As Hope is a welcome chapter in Florence + the Machine's career. Welch is writing reflectively but with a firm rooting in the present; singing with clarity about life's biggest questions as she and her fans continue to figure it out side-by-side, in both the loud and quiet moments.

Tracer is a complete LP that's unified yet fluid, providing a full club experience for those who choose not to leave their bedrooms.

Duffy relinquished control and precision — and perhaps loneliness — in favour of something more immediate, striking, and impulsive. The resulting six-song record has a looseness to it that celebrates the uninhibited power of spontaneity and invention.

The music is troubling and absorbing, a fascinating progression of textures and tones, telling the lugubrious narrative through remarkably tactile sound.

The songs are more interesting and less formulaic, akin to the approaches of Q and Not U and No Knife.

Kvelertak aren't creating any surprises on Splid, they are simply doing it better than they ever have before, showing they are greater than all the individual parts of their sound.

Musically, it takes listeners through a dystopian dance-floor dream universe, with the shiny but comforting hand from its cover as our guide.

Brutalism finds Pierce at his most confident, musically, but his most vulnerable, personally. He's able to explore new sounds without worrying about expectations, and open up about emotions that he's never touched on in his music before.

This is a release worth snapping up on vinyl when it finally comes out.

Love in Constant Spectacle features all of Weaver's strengths and none of her (very few) weaknesses. There's a kind of magical play here that conceals the emotional weight the album continuously heaves skyward, any evidence of the effort smoothed out in the subtitles.

Freed from the studio sheen that bogged down much of the material in the post-Berry years, the songs are given the room they need to breathe, and make a case for R.E.M.'s second act being filled with overlooked gems.

With Toral's help, rousay has presented a musical vision that is newly inviting while retaining all of the elements that have made her music so special

Taken as standalone stories, they're almost brazenly mundane; considered as a whole, Somewhere paints a picture of the small pleasantries and anxieties of everyday life.

They've always had an ear for melody, and here, the shimmering soundscapes put that gift on full display. The result is a compelling, immersive addition to the Beach Fossils catalogue, an effort that chronicles a band truly freeing themselves and expanding outward.

Continuing to navigate everyday life experiences with insightful wisdom, reimagining biblical language with more universal interpretations.

The album brings the dead back to life with the best kind of dark thrash, which is dripping with West coast hardcore aggression.

A little more understated than her recent collaborations with Jeff Tweedy, who similarly wrote songs and produced them for Staples, We Get By is still a gem and Mavis Staples and Ben Harper clearly hit upon something special in working together.

His predilection for marrying sublime pop melodies to bombastic arrangements laced with classical avant-garde flourishes has reached a new level of focus, and, resultantly, potency, on Jackrabbit.

Owen's second album is nonetheless a triumph of soundscapes, an album not meant to analyze and decipher but to daydream, sleepwalk and stargaze through.

On Like the River Loves the Sea, Joan Shelley proves she may be the only active musician who can surround herself with collaborators and sound exactly like herself.

Pleasure and happiness live alongside unease on Lost Girls. Khan is able to pierce through the darkness while still honouring it, and in doing so, acknowledges the validity of her emotions.

Meshuggah haven't returned to impress anyone but themselves. This is the music they like playing. It just happens to sound unlike anything else in metal. After 30-plus years in the game, Meshuggah have neither quelled their thirst for tectonic frenzy nor dried their well of dexterous musicality.

The band have once again found their sweet spot.

Though not every song on this overlong album is a winner--if the band has a weakness, it's in crafting enduring melodies--the bright, instinctive performances more than carry the thinner material.

Righteous indignation has long fuelled OFF!, but Wasted Years is the band at their darkest and most venomous.

This Norah Jones is damaged, dangerous and vulnerable, and Burton's mastery of sound helps deepen the relationship between listener and song.

This is not exciting music; it's a hypnotically paced political screed.

ANTI is perhaps her most complete and confident record to date.

Overall, Murs' tenth solo album showcases why he's had a long career with a dedicated fan base, and adds another pin to the emcee's decorated lapel.

The Hum Goes on Forever finds the Wonder Years doing what they do best and doing it a bit better each time, all while raising the emotional stakes to make each record feel newly important.