Thankfully The Silver Cord's hits overpower its misses, and disco battle epic "Set" strikes with a punch, adding another track to the short yet mighty list of King Gizzard songs to play in the club.

Oblique's songs are intricately woven into a dark, discordant tapestry, alternating between longer, more atmospheric songs and straight-up destructive doom.

For Play What They Want, Colpitts and Brooklyn-based ensemble TIGUE Percussion partner with some legendary guests, and the result is an expansive, writhing body of busy, ego-less playing delivered with a beating, beaming heart.

Though less adventurous than on earlier work, Parquet Courts still manage to deliver a unique record that builds on the foundations of the past.

Not everything here works--Shahid Mustaf MC's needless reworking of Parliament's "Getting To Know You" simply doesn't improve on the original--but exclusive mixes like Joey Negro vs. Horse Meat Disco's "Candidate For Love" should ignite the dance floor.

Masana Temples is a comparatively accessible release from Kikagaku Moyo, despite rooting itself in a reality outside of our own. The ease with which these tracks can be entered leaves one wondering whether this utopian vision--for all its gestures at peace--could be closer to us than we thought.

Queens of the Stone Age dial back their intensity and step up their groove to develop a new sound for the end of the world on In Times New Roman…. For better or worse, it's clear that the band are not the same alt-rock anthem-makers they were in the Y2K era.

With Hardcourage, FaltyDL proves that he still has an endless arsenal of tricks up his sleeve; it's just what he chooses to wear on said sleeve that makes all the difference.

Keery could have gone back to the alt-rock psychedelia that already earned him plaudits; instead, he took a risk and made DECIDE — a funky, sometimes goofy sci-fi odyssey with tons of twists both sonic and emotional.

The improv pieces are purposefully positioned so that the Unsemble seemingly upset their own composure, like a film reel that's become stuck: it distorts slowly, then bubbles feverishly until it finally melts away.

While the self-examination he committed to tape this time around isn't quite as pointed as those of other figures in the genre this year, it's a worthwhile story to hear as we welcome Hodgy back to the mic.

It's warm, inviting, comforting and – much like a cloudy day spent indoors – always pleasant, sporadically stimulating and only noteworthy if you're paying close attention.

These songs don't contain the spine-tingling embrace of death that fuelled Leonard Cohen and David Bowie's final albums, but Nelson faces his realities head on here, with grit and a grin.

There is very little melody on The Upward Spiral; the sounds are more like drilling, sawing or machines beeping than traditional instrumentation.

On a surface level, these tracks form a more tempered piece of work, but multiple listens unveil layers of sound that make Weird Work the most fittingly titled album of the year.

Moby isn't letting the ills of the world get him down though; instead, they serve as the driving force behind These Systems Are Failing, an album both powerful and political that plays through without coming off the least bit preachy.

The record is an achievement of pop-house production, and Jayda's performance throughout is earnest and enthralling — It's a strong effort and vital evolution in her ever-shifting career.

Although Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings are brilliant Motown/Stax revivalists, their stalwart '60s soul/funk, at times, hits the inevitable yawn note.

Guitarist Reine Fiske joins them, fitting in seamlessly: the power and energy they work up on "Skink/Fugl Fønix" could power a train. Despite some slow spots, the two volumes of Psychedelic Backfire show Elephant9 as an engaging and exciting live act, a dazzling mix of rock rhythms and jazzy interplay.

Occasionally on Wallop, !!! sound either too world-weary or too committed to being incendiary to relay ideas relevant to listeners. But at their best, the band maintain their convictions about privilege, power and culture and present them as defiant, monumental tracks.

The usual Jeezy tropes of hustling and encouraging others to also hustle haven't gone anywhere — the rote "Been Getting Money (featuring Akon)" could be plopped on any Jeezy album and no one would notice--but there's a heap of real-life wisdom here, too.

Ocean Roar proves to be a cinematic experience that's good more often than not.

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.

Alfa Mist weaves masterfully from threads of nostalgia, but Bring Backs, when you unravel it, is more of an ode to faith and resilience than a mournful remark on what is gone.

[Space Gun] is a little more what you would expect from a GBV album. You have some sing-along mainstays, including the title track and "Blink Blank"; it's slightly different, while comfortingly the same. It already fills you with nostalgia, with the album not yet attached to any specific memories.

It does occasionally err too heavily towards swaying ballad tropes, but importantly Blake never hides his feelings through allegory or metaphor, nor does he mangle his vocal delivery with electronic trickery.

On All Born Screaming, Clark sounds more at home than she has in a while, but all planets inevitably die — perhaps the next one she lands on will finally be her own.

If you want to just chill at home in the afternoon, give this beauty a spin. Those wanting a reinvented wheel, look elsewhere.

It may have taken a few years, a couple of misfires and a different stylistic approach, but Joss Stone has re-asserted herself with this fine effort.

The stadium-minded ensemble strikes a great balance between fearless exploration and casual virtuosity with unabashedly catchy classic rock-isms pulled and bent from across the genre's history.

In contrast to comrade Rocky's music, Trap Lord succeeds largely despite its production, fuelled by Ferg's oddball enthusiasm and sincerity.

The most notable thing about the record is how excited everyone sounds. It crackles with energy, buoyed by the feeling that the trio are finally unshackled by their past. It's punchy, and the hooks generally last long past the record's short runtime.

The album finds Knxwledge stretching in unpredictable new directions, while also maintaining the soulful throwback sound that garnered him so many fans in the first place.

Like the other entries in the series, Empire also offers up plenty of B-sides and demo takes for the completists, but laying everything out bare for us still doesn't exactly explain the West coast phenomenon known as Unwound.

Ought are moving forward on Room Inside the World, adding new elements to their sound while largely retaining the tension that makes the band so compelling.

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.

Personality comes off as expert techno done in a peculiarly conservative manner, an unadorned but sturdy tugboat floating amongst dubstep's rising tsunami.

As an album, YU feels like a body of work sewn together with interludes, hooks and a growing maturity. Lowe has made a statement by developing inward musings into grooves that reach toward new audiences, the heart at the centre of her work audibly beating.

The upbeat Euro-tone with a dark edge that characterizes Tenderness is tidily executed, evocative and catchy to boot.

In Ferneaux is everything most Blanck Mass albums are not: patient, subtle and disarmingly low-key. It was made in confinement, but it takes Power to surprising new places.

As a follow-up to 6 Feet Beneath the Moon, ANPTD lacks the charm that made his 2013 record amiable. This new work finds Marshall revealing himself through the sound of his combined musical sensibilities and artistry.

It's an odd album, but a good one, which will make you smile at its slightly off-kilter weirdness while soothing your weary bones.

Bazan doesn't disappoint on this mini full-length and though he doesn't wow at first either, Blanco is meditative, and moves more slowly than other entries in the artist's discography. It requires, and deserves, an attentive and patient ear.

Head Up High satisfyingly winds itself from one song to another, yet lacks a bit of overall "oomph"; it also sounds as if it could have been made ten years ago.

Sometimes the album's constant zigzagging can create a bit of a discombobulated effect, but Medicine have never been the sort to adhere to any rules but their own.

Heavily arranged around Hans-Joachim's piano playing, much of the music on Echtzeit is surprisingly melodic, as Qluster keeps a thawing pace throughout the album.

It's mostly a cheery, upbeat listen — although Murdoch still sounds best in melancholy mode, something he proves with on the synth-anchored "We We Were Very Young." ... B&S only miss when they leave their comfort zone.

The record's weakest moments often come when Amstutz flexes her pipes. .... Still, the record has enough shimmer and verve to keep it afloat. Amstutz has made a chart-friendly pop record that never loses sight of what made its central character so compelling in the first place.

All Together Now is a surprisingly and satisfyingly listenable collection of compositions that weren't necessarily recorded for this type of public consumption.

The connection between Hatfield and Caws makes Get There a great pop album that will appeal to more than just fans of both participants.

There are, unfortunately, a few songs that just don't connect, and when the album ends you're left feeling a bit unsatisfied, which is rare for this band. But it's still a great, short, raw blast of a melodic punk album.

Plenty of tracks here end abruptly, which likely works well for their use in the film itself, and maybe less so in an independent listen. But even removed from visual and narrative components of Hereditary, Stetson's compositions still manage to conjure a deeply unsettling, unrelentingly tense mood.

The Desaturating Seven finds Primus oddly compelling, as ever.

Sensual and honest, Viva Hinds feels close to the chest, with throbbing pianos, soaring synthesizers, and drum machines accompanying profound reflections on staying true to oneself in love.

It's rare for a posthumous release to not only live up up to the artist's previous work, but properly capture their aura and spirit in the way that Forever manages to.

In spite of the abundance of retro rock references, Adams' gut-spilling lyricism and vulnerable vocal performances (a waver here, a crack and a tremble there) still give Prisoner enough heart to steer it clear of sounding like a washed-up cliché.

The profound sadness imbued in Mr. M, something that hasn't necessarily been as apparent on previous Lambchop albums, lends a consistency that produces a satisfying meditative effect.

Like eggnog, it's excellent in December but probably a little nauseating come January.

Though it's not quite perfect--some songs wear out their welcome before they finish--this album is written and arranged in a sonically and lyrically engaging way, and will surely excite the faithful, even if it fails to convert fence-sitters.

Each of the 11 here tracks deliver much the same mood however, and if one were to quibble, it might be to suggest that Moomin's beats strive so hard to be tasteful and inoffensive that they sometimes verge on blandness. That being said, if you love your house sepia-toned with plenty of TR808, Moomin's latest is for you.

Baby Teeth's gentle delivery and textured production creates a world in which listeners have an opportunity for reflection, situating their own experiences within the band's storytelling.

There are few surprises in Roosevelt's brand of dance music, but that seems decidedly the point; the synapses it triggers feel like the most welcomingly comfortable sort of sparks, firing on familiar-but-welcome cylinders.

Sore feels like the culmination of something that's been bubbling under in the city, the perfect marriage of pop craftsmanship and violent anger.

It's her relentless musical alchemy that anchors the album, which finally finds Rose being herself, rather than attempting to sound like someone else.

Black Moth Super Rainbow's fifth release may not be their most resourceful work to date, but it's undoubtedly their most sublime.

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

Social Cues not an overly adventurous record, but it's the sound of a band who know their niche in contemporary alternative rock and how to deliver every time.

While Until In Excess lacks a genuine revelatory moment, it's their most overall consistent and accessible album thus far.

This year's Club Nites is more approachable than last year's Seeing Green, but that doesn't make it any less loose and unfettered.

The record succeeds when the band give into the temptation of pleasing their crowd with ramshackle tracks that will work well in a live setting.

While still an immensely enjoyable record, coming from someone who never shied away from mixing it up, it's hard not to walk away from the last song thinking, "Has Tillman lost his nerve?"

Content Nausea reasserts Parkay Quarts as talented musicians able to deliver successive releases that are far more accomplished than many other big label garage-rock albums.

Ciani and Smith's exploitation of the Buchla's possibilities is exemplary, and worth looking into for fans of ambient or experimental music.

This EP is more sketchbook than fully realized piece of art, a placeholder between full-lengths designed to keep the band in the cultural conversation.

WAX is filled to the brim with equal parts sing-along sensibility and raspy vibrato--with a style and sound akin to late '90s Chantal Kreviazuk.

An original record blending beauty and brutality.

While the project does have a mixtape feel to it as opposed to an album, it delivers a lot of heat.

While it can be hard not to yearn for more massive and cathartic songs like "Reflection," Light We Made is still a quality effort, even if it's an adjustment.

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.

While the album could be described as moody, and there certainly are dramatic shifts in mood throughout, there is also always the feeling of sunny skies above. The music conjures up the grit of the beach, the flow of the ocean, and the hot concrete below the unrelenting sun of the Pacific coast.

Fans of We Are Scientists will appreciate the new direction in crafting a new upbeat dynamic sound, and for new listeners, Megaplex is the perfect introduction to one of the band's most notable releases to date.

Waiting Game is a smooth and smart shift for an outfit that was doing just fine prior but could stand to switch it up. Whether soft reset or brief respite, it's definitely Junior Boys' most tasteful and interesting album.

One wonders what could have happened if Moroder explored a little more, rather than playing it safe.

Erikson falls in-line with dreamy progressives like Caribou and Four Tet, generating ten new compositions that sound as beautiful as they do bouncy.

Ruminations isn't exactly a stunner--it's too low-key for that--but as a humble mood-piece, it's an engrossing listen. Its best moments are also its darkest ones.

The album is not without its bright spots, as much of the Brooklyn duo's soundscapes waver somewhere between engaging and downright daring.

From the Vaults is a collection of b-sides presented and packaged as a full-blown studio release, and it's worth the effort.

Few would mistake White Stuff for golden age Royal Trux--the vocals are more subdued, the songwriting is more straightforward, and anyone looking for something as confrontational as "The Banana Question" won't find it here. But hearing Hagerty and Herrema stay true to their ethos after 30-plus years offers its own satisfactions. Consider the comeback complete.

Written by a person whose conscience seems to keep him from having too much fun, Hard Love is a conflicted yet summarily good record that breathes new life into good ol' rock'n'roll.

Their brand of quirky indie pop runs throughout, but the slower numbers are as effective as the upbeat tunes.

There's rebirth in the swirl of destruction, but these days the Yeah Yeah Yeahs seem more interested in the stories that start after the cataclysm, where purple fireweed bursts from scorched hillsides and glass shards are rounded by the tides.

The songwriting is tighter, the hooks stickier and the production crisper as they twist buzzy guitar hooks and driving, rudimentary drum machine beats into seven-minute jams.

This is music made for dancers (and highly dextrous ones at that).

There are enough great moments, such as "Why Are You With Me" and "All My Love," to make this his strongest solo record in quite a while, but it is still far from his best work.

Sequencing issues aside, the strength of Paris' production is the biggest standout aspect of the project. If the years spent between releases had anything to do with making sure the beats were adequately rendered, those were years well spent.

Although Tycho and company seemingly recycle a few ideas on Awake, it's a rewarding, mood-inducing listen that's best digested whole.

On Vapor City, Machinedrum steers clear of dramatic style makeovers, opting to focus on sharpening his craft while leaving the listener with a collection of songs that operates on pure magnetism and unbridled confidence.

Even when Wavves tread some familiar territory, the nine-song album is so short and peppy that it whooshes by like a refreshing ocean breeze.