Four Pink Walls is positioned as a warm up to her debut full length, and there's enough substance here to match and maintain expectations.

Once More With Feeling… acts as both a great introduction for new fans, highlighting their DIY aesthetic and their ability to subvert their own song structures, and as a nice addition to Ought's already great discography for existing fans.

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.

A carefully orchestrated and patiently rendered collection of songs that recasts Cottrill's music in the visage of artists like King and James Taylor.

This is a fine soundtrack to a road movie that's yet to be filmed.

With Dissolvi, Steve Hauschildt rediscovers his adventurous self while taking delight in the human element.

Fantasy is Lightning Dust's most consistent and cohesive effort to date, and is dreamy enough to live up to its otherworldly title.

Overall, the Pixies' seventh album is palatable — the songs are generally likeable — but it lacks excitement.

Despite sounding more like Radiohead's wistful indie-pop nephews than the genuine article, alt-J are a group offering moderate experimentalism that'll serve as an effective gateway for younger fans.

Surrounded by ambient hiss and faint female backing vocals, The Benoît Pioulard Listening Matter shows Pioulard expressing emotion through simple but intensely personal songwriting.

Taken on its own, in an era where most artists make albums a third of its length, the EP feels like a daunting endurance test. But the deeper you dig into Perverts and Ethel Cain's world, the more rewarding the experience.

Sure, it would've been nice for Jenkins to offer even more such insightful commentary on this LP, rather than devoting the bulk of his lyrics to braggadocio. But this creative, star-studded album nevertheless showcases Jenkins' potential to fill the late Scott-Heron's shoes as a rap poet laureate.

With Ghosts of Then and Now, Illum Sphere strives to balance the ethereal with the earworm and, for the most part, succeeds.

Although Kinsella still writes dense math rockers ("On with the Show") alongside uncomplicated acoustic ditties ("Headphoned"), The Avalanche seems to meld together into slosh of uniform sound, leaving the listener with an album that is emotionally thrilling even when it is tactilely urbane.

At times, the simplicity of the melodies (the synths at times sound like readymade ones you'd find on a Yamaha keyboard) and decidedly uncomplicated drum machine beats may leave the listener wanting more, but they play into the notion of these characters being pathetic, exhausted and disappointed so well that there really isn't a need for much more.

It's an excellent record--one that sounds both classic and unmistakably contemporary--but, for the most part, it still sounds like the meeting of two disparate halves.

There is nothing unexpected on Hotspot, but to trace the contours of the expected with Pet Shop Boys is never without reward, and they're certainly in fine form. Fans will find much to enjoy here, but Hotspot is best viewed as a victory lap.

The Hyperdub resident dabbles in funk, grime, experimental, R&B and soul, a mélange of styles that effortlessly coexist.

Yes, Native Invader is an effectual statement by an artist who has built her career on making them, but at times it feels a little restrained in its tone compared to some of her most memorable work.

Her experiments with cross-stitching sometimes unravel, but even the loose ends make for powerful listens.

Though it feels relatively safe stylistically, Archives is a very much a welcome closer to Stewart's Vapor City vision.

The narrative isn't particularly groundbreaking; it tells the story of escaping a bad relationship, falling in love with someone else and then torpedoing it with his libido. Ne-Yo's MJ-indebted falsetto does deliver some highlights on the album.

Overall, Holtkamp's constant push into uncharted territory on Motion – Connected Works is highly respectable and a new step forward for him, but its length and fatiguing, aggressive timbre hold it back from being his most pleasurable release to date.

As a whole, it feels less like a sketchbook come to life and more like a laboratory of hermetic fusion jazz and avant-garde rock, which isn't to say it's devoid of charm.

While Keith Flint and vocal partner Maxim aren't as prominent as they sometimes are on this outing, the bludgeoning beats and aggressive synths remain, with perhaps even a bit of classic rock swagger thrown in early on.

Lift Your Spirit is rather formulaic from that standpoint--not as spicy or daring as past efforts--but it's folksy, soulful, and groovy enough to catch your attention.

Like past releases, [4Eva N A Day] breathes a warm, nostalgic haze steeped in Southern soul and the country rap of UGK and Outkast.

Traces of previous collaborators and tourmates such as Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes, Troye Sivan and S. Carey can be found in these songs, along with the bright folk-pop energy of Maggie Rogers, yet Gordi stands out from her peers on the strength of her direct, melancholic voice and honest lyricism.

"Lyrics," "Crime Riddim" and "Man" show him at his most convincing, taking aim at MC battle culture, police profiling and post-fame loyalty respectively, delivered with force no matter how vulnerable the subject matter or how jokey the punch lines might be ("My mum don't know your mum / Stop telling man you're my cousin.").

Ultimately, Zeus keeps nodding to the past even as they look toward the future on a record that's both introspective and jubilant.

Tejada has done a fine job of giving each track its distinctive personality without sacrificing the flow of the album as a cohesive piece.

It's still a bit distant and aloof — and ultimately too tame for its own good — but Chronicles of a Diamond finds the band heading in more interesting directions. It is, in every sense of the word, a vibe.

As with so much of Jurado's work, In the Shape of a Storm is simple in its construction, but panoramic in its impact.

On Hive Mind, Ital delivers a refreshing approach to instrumental electronics, with equal disinterest for both the club and headphone scenes, pissing off Internet purists in the process.

It's apparent that these newcomers certainly have their ears wide open, reimagining everything they rebroadcast.

The potency of Toots Hibbert's material is evidenced by the presence of his classic tune "Pressure Drop" in a current TV beer commercial. No single track on Got to Be Tough matches up to that song, but this is a solid offering from the 77-year-old.

Subtly sad, sweetly distorted and at times outright trippy, the result is perfect for long drives under summer skies.

A brooding, groovy, muscular album, The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here is a more mature and thoughtful application of Alice In Chains' undeniably powerful aesthetic.

This feeling of something ancient is instilled in The Sun Dogs, which possesses a strangely hard-to-pin-down sense of mysterious nostalgia, demonstrating that the creation of original music has not yet become a foolish ambition.

They've given listeners a sense of what they could be if they really stepped outside of it here, and quite frankly, a little more could go a long way.

While retreading folklore's ground, evermore deepens and enriches its older sister's world.

This eight-song set provides a bit of insight into the evolution of Grizzly Bear's ever-ripening sound.

Although the core songwriting is never quite as captivating and merciful as it was on previous albums, Heartworms nonetheless has an adventurous outer shell, and the Shins seem to revel in the newfound space inside of it.

Although many songs on Chuck sound familiar, it's amazing that no two tracks sound alike. Berry covers a lot of musical ground on Chuck, and most importantly, reveals just how much fun he was still having at the end of his storied life.

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

Mileage on the more pastoral, slow tunes may vary, but bar italia are now a band in flux: they've mastered the chaos, and here is their first, true attempt to merge the hypnagogic impulses of their early efforts with the choleric punk of their present.

Though some fans will no doubt be put off by the band's new direction, anything more than a cursory listen reveals that HEALTH haven't made some great leap into the pop void. Rather, they've more fully embraced something that was always inherent to their music in the first place.

The band's punk'n'roll won't make converts out of unbelievers, but for those already initiated, V proves the Bronx an undoubtedly vital institution.

For the Shady diehard fans, Shady XV is enough. But for those searching for that nostalgic surge of adrenaline-inducing passion and innovative content reminiscent of the Shady reign, it's better to skip the new material and head straight to the classics.

Stewart's reliance on familiar 'intro/build-up/drop' production structures can at times run repetitive, but his own subtle guitar playing, hyperactive synth pads, mallets and bells make the songs anything but predictable.

Here the songs unfold with greater purpose, the verses and choruses more defined. It is both physically rousing and emotionally moving.

What was once something to blast on your bedroom speakers is now crying out for a live performance with a nine-piece band, which, if nothing else, shows a maturity in sound.

While it's surprisingly early in Alt-J's careers to release what is essentially their version of an acoustic album, Relaxer provides a necessary change-up that keeps the band's iconic sound from becoming a caricature of itself.

The focus is the production rather than the songs, and Ultramarine is sadly missing the killer choruses required for a great pop album.

They manage to balance quieter, more serene moments with bombast and wildness, ending the album with the two longest tracks on the album.

As a whole, though it's compositionally beautiful, Lights Falls leaves the listener deeply emotional--both distressed and saddened. However, this strong reaction is artistic success for Robinson.

Putting the tiger back in a 15-year old cage works well for the band, for the most part. You can feel Stump chafing against the creative box he's put himself back in, and the tension it creates in the music gives many of these songs a sense of immediacy.

Honora feels a bit like a few different projects in one, its moments of revelatory beauty refracted through a slightly convoluted structure.

While not as immediately trance-inducing as their debut, The Twits finds the band in a newly roiling, bellicose state of transformation.

There's nothing too farfetched or strikingly new here, but Still Life of Citrus and Slime is without a doubt a pure example of rock'n'roll.

Witness owes its imperfect existence to garage-punk, psychedelic Afro-rock and the overarching and heartbreaking sentiment that ours is a system that we might not get out from under anytime soon.

While none of Samsara is necessarily bad, there are moments where tracks start to blend together and lose focus. This doesn't necessarily take away from the amazing moments of the album, but as a whole it could use a bit more variance. That being said, the record makes it clear that Venom Prison are destined to join the top of the new-school death metal pack

Overall, Hairball lacks some of the subtlety found in their previous work, but it's still an engaging listen from start to finish.

The album is an offering of loose yet plush stories that trigger memory and mood, and swim with the lithe astral synth and keys that Geotic always plays with.

Ghostly, graceful and deceptively deep, Goodnight Summerland establishes Deland's concise power as a songwriter. As her artistry continues to evolve, it's clear that there's more than one way for her to tell her trademark stories of the infinite worlds within our own.

Compared to Wolfgang Voigt's heyday, Rausch can feel a bit a like a protracted misstep. Although GAS's sound starts to sound a bit dated, Voigt can still be applauded for his approach to storytelling and patience in constructing his electro-orchestral worlds.

So much goes right here, but in scrubbing their songs of imperfections, they've also magnified their flaws. Though not quite stuck in neutral, it will certainly please the band's ever-expanding fan base while not really moving the needle creatively enough to convince sceptics that their initial opinions were unfounded.

On paper, World Record is a middle-of-the-pack Neil Young & Crazy Horse album, but it's filled with so much personality and passion that it begs to be remembered as one of his most soul-bearing.

These sparse pieces beautifully combine elements of modern ambient production with flute, piano and chilly synths that feel anachronistically medieval in aspects of their harmonic construction. The effect is fascinating, and provides an evocative backdrop for Deradoorian's self-reflective poetic philosophical musings.

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

With lyrics that are minimal and often delivered measured and mantra-like, LP.8 is hypnotic, introspectively abstract, and while some may find it too left-field, or lacking her more club-leaning tracks, it's not intended to follow in those footsteps. LP.8 creatively explores Owens' inner life while being inextricably tied to the current age.

Although there may be a few too many half-baked ideas thrown around, as tracks like the hollow "Ujala" and the clunky "Bushy Bushy" demonstrate, 808 State nonetheless come off focused, confident and delightfully wistful on Transmission Suite.

Where the original Something About April was a show a prove lesson in sample creation, part II is a dirt-off-the-shoulder proclamation of songcraft.

My Love Divine Degree adds modern flair to soul and speaks to ChesnuTT's captivating songwriting skills.

Whether Miller is singing on those funk-inflected highlights, or rapping on them with a flow that's airtight to their irresistible rhythms, he sounds like a would-be chart-topper, not to mention one of the most versatile and accomplished hip-hop artists working today. He also clearly has pop chops to rival those of his former flame.

La Dispute are more or less doing what they've always done. They're just continuing the refining process, whatever that is, for better or worse.

While some of this album's material might seem pretentious or esoteric, Amidon's strengths--his musicianship, rustic voice and taste for innovative arrangements--still shine through.

Years to Burn is a beautiful sounding recording and for fans of Calexico and Iron & Wine's initial collaborative release, this is a nice treat after all these years. But ultimately, Years to Burn doesn't have the same spark that In the Reins did.

Egypt Station is best when McCartney is at his most eclectic.

While still entertaining, Kaani sounds like the same moving parts with a cleaner exhaust.

Slugger isn't a perfectly polished, radio-ready set of glossy chart-topping pop tunes, but an infectiously fun foray into shimmering, socially conscious synth-pop.

It's only when he applies his production tricks to his own voice on tracks like "Reflection" when things tend to go awry. But its this experimental bent that makes Rap Album One stand out, and deploying these skills judicially in the future will undoubtedly pay off on the evidence of this solid, eclectic debut.

NO NAME isn't quite as white-knuckled as the first time White made music like this, nor is it as hooky as those White Stripes songs that took them from underground weirdos to superstars. But it's exciting to hear White fully return to the sound he's best known for, with its no-nonsense execution heightened by the thrilling manner in which it was released.

Returning to their signature twinkling arpeggiated synths on the bulk of the record's nine chunky tracks, the band hearken back to a pre-Merriweather AnCo era, serving up some of the most accessible and least jarring tunes from the full ensemble since 2009 (save for 2020's Bridge to Quiet EP).

If you dig Baldi's work, this is as fine a collection as any in the Cloud Nothings discography.

Overall, The Triad is a satisfying reminder that Pantha Du Prince is still the best at what he does.

Peaceful yet highly engaging, Ishi invokes the masters of modular synthesis, a music rooted in technology that somehow comes across as utterly primeval.

This album won't change anyone's opinion of Rick Ross, but fans will get everything they love about his music: some standout tracks, an abundance of charismatic luxury raps and a slew of incredible, lavish instrumentals for you to cruise around to.

If it weren’t for Hughes’s amusing weirdness (more Grimes than Carly Rae, more Misfits than Gem), there would be a risk of her identity getting lost in all the reverence here — and there are places where it still may — but the confidence and songwriting on display prove that Allie X-goes-‘80s is a strong enough concept to carry her for one album.

Braxton truly has created his own sonic alphabet here, and has employed it to draft a manuscript that is as sincere as it is creative.

The work to weave so much together — and do it so well — speaks to Frisell's skill as a composer. His affable, warm nature seeks to connect people, sounds and ideas. On Harmony, Frisell seems to have found just that.

No Fear… lives up to its name thanks to Black Star's bravery against the odds of falling woefully short like nearly all of their fellow MCs would have. The fact that they occasionally come close to pulling off a comeback as towering as their debut will make you wish they don't wait so long to try again.

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

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

As temperamental as the band may be, for those willing to indulge the band's proclivities, High Anxiety is a highly enjoyable filth-encrusted bludgeoning and thrilling catharsis of angular grumping.

Sure, the usual country tropes appear in the form of drinking whiskey, diminishing horizon lines and the "devil [who] don't give a damn" — but Stapleton has long cracked the code of authenticity. Country isn't for everyone, but Chris Stapleton should be.

Living Fields is rich in its intimacy, enrobed in an ambiance that feels like a continuous pull towards a soundscape designed for dreams.

Rainier Fog is more than just another Alice in Chains record; it's another step in the process of redefining their sound since their first comeback record, 2009's Black Gives Way to Blue.