Sure, some of the dark and downtempo beats can begin to sound same-y by the time you're through. And Offset certainly hasn't attained the lyrical brilliance of JAY-Z on 4:44, or any of the other elder rapper's releases for that matter. Nevertheless, Offset's level of growth and candour on Father of 4 is that of an MC making leaps and bounds, both in his music and his personal life.

New voices and ideas fading in and out like ghosts, it's an ambitious second act that meaningfully departs from the proven formula that earned the project early buzz, all to invigorating effect.

Dream Theater are by no means breaking any new ground on Distance Over Time. The album pulls from the same bag of tricks as the rest of their discography. What Distance Over Time does offer, however, is that "it" factor you can't quite put your finger on. Many lifelong fans claim the band lost their mojo the day founding member Mike Portnoy left the band. If that's the case, they seem to have found it on this release.

The most sophisticated and pristinely produced versions of their signature sound to date. Whether you're a new or old listener to Teeth of the Sea, Wraith will be a fresh experience.

Budding doubt punctures even the first song, "You didn't love me anyway"s filling its final minute. The rest of the album is spent in the reality of the aftermath: that endings don't actually end, they stick, no matter how far Soldevila tries to fling them.

This young Australian singer-songwriter made a real mark with her 2016 debut, Don't Let The Kids Win, and subsequent international touring, and this compelling album sets the bar higher.

It's surprising how solitary The Route to the Harmonium comes off--save for a few busy, spoken word tracks that seem to stick out like a sore thumb. But The Route to the Harmonium seems to be James Yorkston's attempt to precisely stick out amongst the crowded field of folksy singer songwriters, and he wears it (on his sleeve) very well.

Instrumentally, this record doesn't do anything revelatory that distinguishes it from their other releases. However, in maintaining their usual glitchy post-punk instrumentals with this clearer lyrical concept, the duo emphasize the emptiness of the automated economy.

Wistful and introverted themes abut against a handful of more fraught moments, where the memories turn from monochromatic to colourful clusters, like autumnal avalanches of melody.

Without something steady to anchor it all, Hello Happiness sound less like an album and more like a compilation of stand-alones.

Summing up an entire musical movement in a single reissue is no easy feat--even if it is three records long. But as a package, Kankyō Ongaku gets incredibly close, shining a brilliant light on one of Japan's most fascinating--yet hidden--musical periods.

There are quick movements at play, but the locomotion is sort of listless.

His songwriting is excellent throughout as well, with structured but never repetitive forms that are always leading to some worthwhile payoff. Cast nails both style and substance; an exciting debut.

It all adds up to a deeply felt, personal album that, like his previous work, should serve as the perfect soundtrack to many a late-night contemplation hour.

Even though their unique music production always nudges musical boundaries, Can't Say I Ain't Country attempts to knock down musical barriers by affixing a fresh glow on past country music trends.

Having rediscovered his split-lipped humour, and working with simple, yet propulsive arrangements, this is a league leader back in game shape. ... It's a master class in country songwriting, a series of lessons about how to work the expected tropes into what feel like as-yet-undiscovered shapes.

Across the record's 12 tracks, Lavigne tries on a variety of styles, inhabiting each with ease, but rarely manages to rise above and make the sound her own.

Triage is worthwhile in its own right, but it falls just short.

With plenty of captivating textures, there is lots to explore on the record, as there is in the world, but the deeper one goes, the more bountiful the rewards.

He writes and sings beautifully; Unfurl is a lovely, understated pop disc. But, for now at least, RY X's material lacks the range of a [Jeff] Buckley set.

The Long Ryders show they are well-equipped to take a leading role in modern Americana.

Electric Lady Sessions perhaps best functions as the defining calling card of a post-reunion LCD Soundsystem.

While the soundtrack shows how versatile and nimble singer Jade Vincent is, she seems more stagnant on Heartbreak. That's not to say that Vincent flattens out completely. On "Heartbreak," she is in full retro-pop mode, and by the closing track "If," her voice melts into a lovely, lilting little lullaby.

Her strongest body of work to date.

This compilation feels totally unnecessary and impersonal, neither satisfying for old fans nor will it convince new ones of the band's greater legacy. They deserve better.

While there are certainly moments of outright noisy abandon, Richter incorporates enough subtlety and tension into the proceedings to make these diabolical sound sculptures bleed with a raw beauty.

The grimness of the lyrics works, and for fans of HEALTH and their style this is a worthwhile listen.

Scenery comes ever-so-close to its intended level of sublime, yet plays things on the safe side: pleasant, powerful, precise.

Buoys requires repeat listens to appreciate fully, but those willing to dive deep enough will surely be rewarded.

Quiet Signs is a breeze of an album that somehow hits you like a ton of bricks. Just another enigmatic turn for Jessica Pratt.

Like sun shining through the clouds after a storm, Isa is equal moments tumult and bliss.

FIDLAR have expanded their sonic palette on a record that seems destined to be appreciated more with time.

It all amounts to a strong album, one that should appeal to both modern, Editors-loving synth-rock fans, as well as older New Order, Joy Division and Cure heads who remember from whence it all came.

Aside from the compelling lyricism, Everything's For Sale also stands out because of its immersive melodies.

A sometimes-psychedelic tinge lifts Fullbrook's usual folk just off the ground. But Fullbrook's voice is still what grants the fine lines life.

While it lacks the political punch of 2015 album Ba Power, Miri stands on its own as a call for peace, mindfulness and reflection.

Released more than 15 years after his debut as Rustin Man, Talk Talk bassist Paul Webb's followup, Drift Code, is atmospheric and moody, but too often forgettable.

Too bad the music isn't as varied. In replacing keyboardist Sasami Ashworth with bassist Devin O'Brien, Cherry Glazerr have gone from wiry and versatile to big and bulky, but their titanic low-end quickly becomes stiflingly repetitive.

Tividad's sun-kissed vocals, on top of the slow, dreamy instrumentals all over What Chaos Is Imaginary, makes the record feel cinematic. The drone-like voice complementing the vibration of heavy buzzing bass will make you slip in and out of reality.

Throwaways make the ten-song album feel low on substantial ideas: there's enough material here for a solid EP, but it's rather thin for a full-length. Still, as a modestly enjoyable throwback to 2006, it gets the job done.

Without any obligations to an overarching concept this time around, it stands as her most direct effort yet.

Rival Sons are a great band with a great sound; the only thing they're guilty of is doing what they do really well, but then exhausting it over and over again.

The best parts of the album, though, are the moments where it doesn't sound exactly like anything either artist has released before (songs like "My City," and closing pair "Big Black Heart" and "Dominos"), yet still shows two songwriters at the height of their talents.

Unfortunately, while amo has moments of absolute brilliance, highlighted by "Nihilist Blues," "Ouch" and "Fresh Bruises," it feels like BMTH weren't ready to fully commit to either sound and, as a result, we're left with a mixed bag of tracks that offers a little something for everyone but never quite enough.

Yet despite sounding like an album that could have just as easily come out in 2009 as 2019, it's a testament to the timelessness of Power Chords' sound rather than an indication of its tedium.

Merton shows great confidence in her abilities as an artist across her debut record, without losing her sense of fun.

With every moment on Internationally Unknown I find odd, I ask myself "was that intentional?" Because I usually have no idea. ... Internationally Unknown is fun and probably not intended to be examined too far past the surface.

Tyler sounds like he's barely breaking a sweat. It's the sound of confidence in one's abilities as an artist, one who embraces their restlessness and creativity while sounding like he's barely breaking a sweat.

It's not that Sneaks' music doesn't take itself seriously, but each song is so well-crafted that it lacks the self-consciousness that could weigh a project like Highway Hypnosis down.

A tight 12 tracks that show the artist at his most approachable, romantic and optimistic.

Remind Me Tomorrow is not only a reminder of the power of love but also features some of Van Etten's finest work to date.

Rogers rises to the occasion, making herself and her mixture of emotions the anchor of songs whose music moves at an unending pace.

The result doesn't sound bad; at worst, a few of the tracks are forgettable. But beneath the carefully roughed-up veneer, there's some depth and nuance missing.

Their third full-length, Scholars, reflects the modernization their latest instruments have undergone (Arx allows them to trigger percussion, change instrument effects, and control vocal harmonies with the push of an arcade button), keeping their wholly distinct sound while embracing digital and synth-based instrumentation.

They continue to look forward and create music that feels unlike anything else out there. This one is no exception: it's the perfect antidote for these bleak, modern times.

An unexpectedly celebratory affair.

The brevity and strong melodicism of these songs is of course reminiscent of Field Music's work, yet You Tell Me feels like both an extension of the eldest Brewis brother's songwriting and an assertion of Hayes' voice.

This group of songs are vivid in colour, creating a warmth, unlike their contemporaries who cling to the depressing melodrama of these decades. By keeping it light, listeners will might find a second listen through all the more appealing.

Parallel Universe Blues is a dreamy, laidback record made for easy listening. It's a great album with a step up in its production. It would be more interesting for Quever to do something a little bit different this time around, but staying true to your roots isn't a bad thing.

While it's not quite a classic like his seminal late '80s to early '90s run, Everythang's Corrupt is a return to form, especially after Cube's rudimentary 2000s releases like Laugh Now, Cry Later and I Am the West. It's heartening to hear an icon with nothing left to prove rap with the hunger of a youngster so far into his career.

Throne's power is in its delivery, as Leigh's brazen siren call cleverly commingles with a deft pedal steel wizardry. The music is uniquely alluring. Its woozy, uncanny nature enhances its charm, making Throne some of the artist's best work thus far.

The mix is so unique that it, plus the running time, might drive casual listeners away. But if you're that sort of person who likes Mayhem and Mavis Staples, this is for you.

There's a little less bravado for its own sake; instead, we are offered reflections on the differences in the man's life since his last release from jail. He's married, off of drugs and, as the album's cover shows, ripped now.

This debut is a more than pleasant listen. Here's hoping a sophomore release won't take a decade to surface.

DiCaprio 2 exemplifies what the ideal student of the game sounds like--someone who's conscious of how a hook presents itself, how to control their delivery and how to diversify their lyrical bonds.

Throughout the record, Romano truly embraces mysticism in his lyrics, and throws the idea of form and structure out to sea. It can be overwrought at times, as Romano stretches the seams of certain songs with oft impenetrable lyrics and perhaps a surplus of instrumentation.

At 70, Melnyk is producing some of the most physically demanding work of his career. And he's doing so in front of a bigger audience than he's ever enjoyed. This is a recording of a composer/performer very much at the top of his game.

As much as Championships is filled with nonchalant club/street anthems, it's also about healing. Tempered by both celebration and struggle, Championships shows the duality of Mill's world--one that still reflects on the past, but has made leaps towards his future--and that's perhaps the greatest win of them all.

Although a very strong record for what it is, Some Rap Songs lacks the emotional power of the two albums that preceded it, particularly Doris, which charted Earl's transition back to civilian life from a Samoan wilderness camp.

If you're looking for a de facto greatest hits of library music, Unusual Sounds is here to provide just that.

Given the breadth of Hood's output and influence, hardcore fans may have wanted a more encompassing and historical selection but there's enough here to satisfy both newcomers and devotees.

The sheer breadth of styles Ishibashi incorporates might well throw the average listener for a loop, but if an exceptional talent employing any tools she sees fit to make the sounds she hears in her head excites you, The Dream My Bones Dreams contains a wealth of sonic treats worth exploring.

Jeff Tweedy clearly spent more time than usual talking to himself of late, and the expressive results are strong. His memory went jogging and kicked up enough dust that he had to put it down on paper and on tape, and it all feels like the most direct pathway into his complex psyche that he's ever offered.

At only 22-years-old, Cara doesn't feel gimicky, nor like an over-produced product of a record label. She's raw and pure, an obvious example of an artist who will only continue to build momentum.

Overall though, it's a solid effort in a genre that's hard to nail. Worth repeating all season!

While both rappers have met their match in terms of lyrical prowess and old-school ethos, the cavernous difference in their tones (Gibbs, deep and rough like a stormy sea; Curren$y, squeaky and smooth) keeps Fetti dynamic and wards of redundancy. Better still, however, are the moments when these rappers elevate the proceedings beyond street side cypher-style spitting.

It's their willingness to fall flat on their face while swinging for the fences that separates them from the focus-grouped inoffensiveness of their pop peers. The messiness of the whole thing seems to be the point, part of its audacity. In most artists' hands, that would be a recipe for creative bloat. Yet more than ever before the 1975 prove themselves masters of the form.

Perhaps its biggest fault is being a good album that's just not as strong as the other two in .Paak's "Golden State" series.

As their past few LPs suffered from a bout of structural sameness, Wham! Bang! Pow! Let's Rock Out! contains just enough musical and lyrical variety to place it amongst Art Brut's finest work.

As Shabason bends, stretches, and warps instrumentation, field recordings and interview clips alike, he's working in neo-expressionist portraiture, mining the ambiguities of the abstractions to beautiful, evocative effect.

This compilation delivers on all fronts, dropping in the melancholic with Tokimonsta and Miguel Baptista Benedict, the glitchy downtempo of Lapalux, the funk infusions of Thundercat and Georgia Anne Muldrow, the experimental house of Mr. Oizo and Ross From Friends, and of course new cuts from Flying Lotus himself.

Given how commanding Powerhouse comes off thematically, there are unfortunately moments that simply don't work musically. ... But for its few flaws, Powerhouse is nonetheless rewarding, as Rostron has never sounded so raw and inventive, leaving listeners with the imperfect must-hear album of 2018.

There's still room to grow, but their adventurous spirit on display across the record will hopefully make for some compelling material moving forward.

Not just for Dave Matthews Band fans, Ryley Walker's The Lillywhite Sessions is a reminder that taste is subjective, timing is everything, and you don't always choose the ones you love.

There is a sense of indulgence here, moments that could read as self-important, particularly when Kozelek dips into criticism, but themes of loss, of displacement, and of holding onto what has held you in the past bring completeness.

It's an admirably strange structure--one that doesn't make much aesthetic sense, but keeps things unpredictable for a whopping 83 minutes. ... A weird and wonderful farewell from the idiosyncratic project.

Conley's lyrics and vocals are the boldest missteps on 9. Contained in what sounds like a grown adult emulating the vocal tonality of an angsty teen, are even stranger lyrical approaches.

Thought Gang is for lovers of non-expositional storytelling, crude mystery, lipstick-red esoteric jazz, and noise.

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.

Queen of Golden Dogs is more than a collection of novel (or classical) ideas, as much as it's a assembly of gorgeously written and expertly arranged musical concepts, showing Vessel making some of the most clear-eyed art of his career.

At only eight tracks, it's the shortest Smashing Pumpkins full-length and it feels less grandiose than most of their work simply due to that brevity, which makes it harder to measure against their other LPs--although it easily blows the last album out of the water and is more immediately catchy than Zeitgeist.

By creating longer songs that echo the hypnotic nature of house, the band draw listeners into the feeling of the beats and bass that anchor Nagano's melodies. In doing so, Little Dragon succeed in giving listeners a taste of the dance world they've entered into, in all its myriad forms.

Artists that push themselves with every release are rare, and rarer still are the artists where each new frontier is a successful one. Objekt is one of those, and Cocoon Crush demands to be listened to intently and completely. The arrangements themselves are never predictable, twisting and turning with opportunistic glee, marrying the fluidity of his role as a sonic architect.

Lyrically, all three mine traditionally sombre territory in their solo work, tying into broader cultural conversations regarding gender and mental health, and the words of boygenius maintain the same power and urgency.

Teetering between organized and messy, the melodic and chaotic, Bought to Rot is what Grace considers her "Scorpio album." Presenting herself bare, she exposes unfiltered honesty through the kind plain-spokenness that's, nowadays, avoided by contemporaries of her stature.

This will probably be labeled a folk-rock record, but at its core Elastic Days rocks.

Tracks like the funky "Can't Fight the Feeling," "Love Jones" and "I Feel a Change" aren't '60s soul throwbacks so much as they are genuine articles, with the now-trademark Daptone sound feeling fresh and vintage at once.

The record starts to lose a little momentum near the end, and some parts of the record float by without registering much of an impression, but the highlights usually make up for this. Sometimes she gets too laidback for her own good, but St. Louis has enough charm to make the record work.