Despite that fact that this music is now two decades old, it doesn't sound at all dated.

Like Maus's best work, Screen Memories converses primarily through its musical and instrumental affect. These songs are so clearly laboured over and full of detail that their impact as a whole, coupled with bizarre and often-obfuscated lyrics, can easily wash over a first-time listener. Spend some time immersed in their depths, though, and watch as they unravel and fill in Maus's immaculate vocal sketches.

Atonement is a monster record in an almost untouchable career.

Ballad takes Hardware's craft to new heights of sophistication and richness, establishing him as a master of melody, an exquisite popsmith, and a brilliant compositional mind.

Lily's clean and refined songwriting on Big Picture has her following in the footsteps of the similarly polished and venerable Laura Marling while sharing an emotionally intuitive sharpness and tongue-in-cheek propensity with fellow contemporaries like Lucy Dacus and Phoebe Bridgers.

It's yet another solid rock record from a reliable group who are very good at this sort of thing.

KicK iii practically dares listeners to come closer. The opener "Bruja" makes it clear from the get-go: Arca will not cater to those easily spooked out of her turbulent cyborgian utopia.

Anchored by the cinematic piano compositions of chief-songwriter Hazel Wilde--who seems to have learned vocals from the Bilinda Butcher School for Barely Audible Singing--and the ambient excursions of lead guitarist Paul Gregory, rarely has an album about England's eroding economy and cultural upheaval sounded so exquisitely triumphant.

Combining the uncontaminated brawn of 2004's The Woods with the hip indie sensibilities of their early LPs, Sleater-Kinney have finally relieved their all-encompassing crowd-pleaser with the sonically pleasing Path of Wellness.

On The Love Invention, Alison Goldfrapp shows that she's more than just the face of Goldfrapp. In fact, she might still be the face of modern UK sophisti-pop.

Wild Beasts have always been strong performers, but only when seemingly unaware; by tackling the trope of hubris-laden bro rockers, Boy King finds them becoming the butt of their own jokes, with little more than mindless dance tracks to show for it.

Nozinja Lodge maintains its novel authenticity and stands as a curiosity that is definitely worth a listen.

The Nature of Imitation is a prime example of an established artist brilliantly redefining and redeveloping their sound to the highest degree. It's also a prime album.

Color certainly announces Katie Gately as a force to be reckoned with, a true auteur with a singular--and highly listenable--vision.

Unmistakeably, each track encapsulates the old and new in Wire's musical history.

While the echoing melodica used throughout gives everything a sort of "Clint Eastwood"-y sheen, that's not necessarily a bad thing--if anything, it's evidence that Marching Church know how to create an atmosphere on par with far more experienced songwriters and performers.

Lonely Planet is a pleasing collection of well-crafted, often beautiful sketches, and while they may not always end up anywhere specific, you'll always enjoy the journey nonetheless.

Vermont make their retro intentions more than clear on their self-titled debut.

Is it incoherent? Absolutely, but that's all part of the fun. Although it's tempting to wish for an entire album in the same style — the krautrock tunes are especially strong — that wouldn't be nearly as fun as this strange tour through VanGaalen's brain.

While still lighthearted and filled with humour, it's a massive shift from previous releases, both musically and lyrically, with plenty of hints of more to come.

The consistency here comes in the form of non-stop, solid tracks; there isn't a bad recording on this whole album, which is no easy feat.

Due to the first half's measly runtime (half of its high octane songs clock in at under three minutes) and heavy as hell ending, listening to Clone of the Universe kind of feels like visiting a tapas bar with a few friends, only to drunkenly venture off at the end of the night to slam down a whole duck, solo (and no, that's not a euphemism): it's a journey most would avoid making, but a compelling one for those willing to roll the dice and ride.

Your Hero Is Not Dead is an impressively contemplative debut album, filled with quiet music that packs a surprising emotional punch.

The record’s more direct first half may appeal to those who want their old school IDLES fix, but repeated listens to its rangier second half reveal an emotional complexity and sonic cohesion that have long escaped the band. Suddenly, there’s reason to be excited about where IDLES are headed.

Like your favourite beer, Municipal Waste are reliable and will whet your whistle for thrash, a comparison the band would welcome with arms, or mouths, wide open.

Seamlessly weaving complexity into internal rhymes in verses and the overall thematic premise, PTSD excels at both micro and macro levels.

The subdued star-crossed is unlikely to garner the same commercial success as Golden Hour. It isn't carried by standout singles or big beats, but the album isn't seeking that kind of external validation. It stands alone in its vulnerability.

On All or Nothing, Shopping talk big and play loud, showing their sharp sense of what makes people move. It's an album that just can't wait to be released, to spread its way through a gathered crowd — and, at last, to watch the motion begin.

While Northern Chaos Gods unmistakably sounds just like Immortal, one can't help but wonder how amazing of an album it could have been had Abbath been involved to complete the phenomenal trio that Immortal once were.

Bless This Mess feels like a rebirth; a boundless, alien take on Remy's explosive art-pop, its conceptual wildness and sonic friskiness allowing her to flex her vision and sense of humour in brand new ways.

It works because of its twitchy pop sensibilities, which gaze longingly back at the '80s, and while that isn't a bad thing, it's still a hard record to get attached to.

With enough panache to warrant a full-length release, Seasonal Hire is an all-too brief look into four musicians' quest to push their music further.

Boasting a bigger sound with better songwriting, Deep Fantasy pulls no punches, yet still emerges as White Lung's boldest and most accessible album to date.

By giving their songs more directness, Local Business succeeds in what the band set out to do: present Titus Andronicus as a charged, dynamic live band.

FOREVER sees Charly Bliss firmly planting roots for themselves within the pop sphere with a sense of purpose and playful, joyous intention that even well-seasoned pop bands struggle to do.

A good portion of Total Folklore finds Friel treading the same murky path, leaving the listener with brazen, barefaced ideas and shambling, barefoot execution.

Most of the risks he takes on Criminal pay off, and the record is among his most confident statements as an artist.

Though the stouter vocals have given the band more confidence for moments of melodic bombast, occasionally they sound out of place.

While not flawlessly executed, Common arguably regains some of the relevance he may have lost from his last couple of albums with the focus of Nobody's Smiling.

The pair share an uncanny symbiosis, which is quite clearly demonstrated on Concrete Desert.

Death Dreams is the perfect example of a "same but better" second outing giving fans more of what they love while presenting something new to consider for those who weren't sucked in the first time around

This is a lovely record with enough autumnal tones to ensure that you'll still be listening to it in six months' time.

Alvvays' debut feels like a warm and fuzzy memory, forging a deeper sense of nostalgia with each repeat visit.

If hippie songstresses, piercing sopranos and meandering song craftsmanship are your bag, this album is certainly for you.

As I Lay Dying bring no surprises to the table, they just continue to hone their craft and do it better than the countless clones that have popped up in their wake.

This is clearly their best work to date.

There is a catchiness to the song structures that occasionally brushes against an industrial influence.

It's the raw and relentless aggression of Reach Beyond the Sun as a whole that makes it worth the listen.

While Jonson may not take any big swings on Her Blurry Pictures, he does provide enough patient acid flourishes, nimble bass lines and restrained, yet forceful percussion to draw you into his new world view.

He may be hard for most country music fans to take, but there isn't a more vital artist working within the genre right now.

The set comes off rather rigid when compared to the almost mutant beats of Perceiver, yet a sense of playfulness manages to reveal itself throughout.

With a lazy pace and slightly detached vocals from Standish, these eight tracks seem to sway like strips of bleached cloth hanging in a light breeze.

If All In My Head is a stepping-stone in their sound, there's something great on the horizon from Seaway.

This is Snapchat-raised turn-up music, trendy and self-actualizing through its references to memes that come quick as they go.

With each song finely crafted and composed, Nervous is an exploration of sonic tension that ultimately wrings beauty from an undesirable situation.

Man it Feels like Space Again stands apart both from their influences and from that other Perth group. That it also happens to be their best album is just a bonus.

The band members proving that they are lifers at this kind of punk provocation.

Skullsplitter is a triumph of post-modern songwriting, where decisions can be recast and repurposed to suit the needs of the present.

The rest of Soft Connections floats along very pleasantly with some pretty songs, all featuring shimmering guitar and nice melodies, but ultimately not a ton of hooks.

A winning debut jam-packed with raucous outlaw energy.

Power In The Blood is a masterpiece in a storied career.

This is a more fully realized and textured vision of what the band offered on their debut.

While The Home Inside My Head is by no means the band's magnum opus or a step forward for pop punk as a whole, it's definitely a worthwhile listen for fans of the band and genre.

The depth of these cuts will depend on your familiarity with electro-funk and its history, but there should be enough here to satisfy even the most literate of fans, and for newcomers to Dâm's sound, it's a fine primer.

With its rich sonic landscape and Georgas' confident lyrics, For Evelyn is a great record, but perhaps more importantly, it also shows that Georgas is getting better and better with each release.

For an album comprised entirely of outtakes, Oddments of the Gamble sounds surprisingly realized and complete.

There's a lot of stuff there, and sure, not everything seems crucial. But when the ecosystem works as well as it does on Pas pire pop, it's worth taking the time to get lost in its dense flora of sounds.

This is her best album yet.

Whitehorse could easily have played it safe here, but they didn't; as a result, Panther in the Dollhouse is one of the best albums of the summer, if not the year.

Moss uses delays and loops, multi-tracking, and other effects to greatly expand the sonic potential of these basic elements, resulting in a sound world that is laser sharp in its focus, but still expansive and dynamic.

Not everything works, and some might bristle at the somewhat inconsistent recording quality that hearkens back to Leo's earliest work, but even though he turned to his fans for funding, these feel like songs that Leo needed to write for himself.

With ken, he has once again delivered an excellent record that offers both sonic surprises and familiar idiosyncrasies.

Fresh, detailed and packed with surprises, every element of There Is No Elsewhere is carefully mixed. Their work--playfully branded "baroque-pop folktronica neo-classical something-or-other"--surprises and delights in equal measure.

The solid Lovers Rock is a testament to Estelle's talent and career durability while paying homage to a genre that has withstood the test of time.

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.

Taut and built upon arpeggiated synths coupled with a prominent rhythm section, the album pokes fun at our over-stimulated reality, while commenting on the struggles we face to retain individuality and authenticity.

Sometimes, a cloud isn't just a cloud, and Morgan's Equivalents offers a space to ponder the difference.

Surrender Your Poppy Field is another solid entry in the Guided By Voices canon, and one that fans or curious onlookers that want a newer entry point into the group shouldn't miss.

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.

Damien Jurado provides yet another quietly magnificent album. What's New, Tomboy? feels like a traveler finding new footing after a storm at sea.

Leaving None but Small Birds is a departure for both bands that results in a mostly positive and rewarding listening experience. This complete change in sonic construction not only introduces these bands to wider audiences, but also gives a glimpse of their greater musical potential moving forward.

It's a gorgeous collection of songs, showcasing Spear's preternatural songwriting ability.

Although it lacks any true standout tracks, it makes up for it with Watson's most adventurous production to date and a clear desire to walk on new paths, which bodes well for any future releases.

The best live albums are ones that clearly distinguish themselves from their studio counterparts (Nirvana's MTV Unplugged in New York, for example), and this isn't that. But as a way to cap off 2022 while refocusing attention on their live show, Live at Montreaux adds to (rather than detracts from) the impression that the Smile are successfully carrying the torch for Radiohead during this period of uncertainty.

It's one of 2024's must-hear strokes of genius, crossing linguistic borders with its expression of understated, comforting beauty.

Creativity is what keeps Ill Times pretty damn fun despite its darkness. While soul-meets-rock can easily slide into awkward pastiche, the synergy behind this collaboration keeps its collage of free-floating ideas tight, yet effortlessly unrestricted.

Between only a couple hiccups, If You're Reading This It's Too Late weaves personal raps, 6-side boosts and absorbing production in cohesive fashion. It's an engaging preview of the upcoming Views from the 6.

If art mimics life, then Open Door Policy's musical tension, timely themes and efforts to reimagine the band while remaining authentic deftly capture today's world.

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

For those who like their space-age folk rock with a strong sense of humility, it doesn't get much chiller than this.

One lyrical misstep in "By My Demon Eye" (the use of the ethnic slur "gypsy") disrupts Stables' otherwise charming lyrics, but otherwise, Moonshine Freeze is a uniquely woven tapestry of captivating beauty.

The set list here, drawing a bit from 2013's Push the Sky Away and then from throughout their catalogue, features longer songs, each drawn out patiently, and rewards fans before trying to impress novices.

Though less dark than his defining album or his latest soundtrack, Clark's latest balances whimsy and savagery just enough to know it's his.

All in all, the disses, weird comments, glitchyness, folky bits and ravey big bass — among many other sundry bits and pieces — come together to create something that will make many people dance. This doesn't sound like an album as much as a terrifically curated DJ set—and that's more than okay.

The pair are making strummable instruments sound new again, and it sounds like redemption. Proceed frantically and without caution.

Major doesn't run at the consistently breakneck pace of Fang Island's debut, but the group rely less on near-ludicrous histrionics and more on exhibiting the joy of creation through complex and confident songwriting.

Shimmery background countermelodies of organ and mandolin bring a slightly psychedelic, dreamy sense of indie rock to an album that alternately evokes both '80s Los Angeles and '90s Scotland.

All told, Painkillers does many things well and few things poorly. It's not a Gaslight record, but it's one that fans will find familiar.