Aquilo captivate most when they vary the tempo and instrumentation within their songs, and they do it often enough to make Silhouettes a strong debut overall.

Fans of Braids and those interested in the kinds of personal, political and artistic struggles this work deals with will enjoy spending time with this new record.

Don't call it a full-fledged De La Soul record--call it an enjoyable diversion until the full crew come back proper.

A mysterious, sprawling listen that will baffle the masses, but reward patient listeners longing for an LP that is immersive, quirky and gently haunting.

This is an intense, unsettling work from the Canadian musician and if it doesn't quite reach the heights of Ravedeath, it's mostly down to Virgins lacking the fluid album arc of the former and not because the tracks are any less powerful.

Overall, the album's production is too polished, which somewhat contradicts the band's filth-caked persona. Instead of their lovable, sloppy sludge with festering warts and all, Nomadic Behavior is squeaky clean and coherent, with a surgical gravity to each and every downtuned chord.

The record is just playing true to form for the veterans, proving that the beast is back with teeth bared and a few more tricks up its hairy sleeves.

Jackie is unlikely to vault Ciara into the stratosphere, but it's a solidly produced effort that features an artist comfortable with who she is both privately and as an artist.

2:54 have made a debut album that pulls you in, immerses you and haunts you ever so slightly.

It's an analogue oasis of the past that rejuvenates for the present.

Though not as consistently aggressive as past efforts, the Chariot ride through other seemingly non-related genres (à la Between the Buried and Me) throughout One Wing, adding a bipolar insanity to the album.

This album reveals that Lanois is as gifted a collaborator and curator of talent as he is a creator of atmospheric productions for megastars. Let's hope the pandemic lockdowns lift soon, because Lanois and his bandmates deserve to delight audiences with their crackling chemistry and old-school gospel songcraft, all of which are vividly captured on Heavy Sun.

Lovelessness is an ugly, abject work that challenges the listener to accept both unhappiness and disgust, conveyed with power, intelligence and artfulness.

While not groundbreaking, it's a revitalizing rock record that is bound to rekindle the excitement of taking a chance on a (relatively) new band.

While many albums start out catchy and then become more introspective, Haunted Painting loses some of its moroseness to become more pop-ish.

There's enough flat-out enjoyable tunes on Lightning Bolt to set aside the past, at least temporarily.

Black Breath don't quite stand out like they used to, so while this is still a very solid album, the band would have been wise to perhaps make a louder, more out-there statement in order to establish themselves as leaders of the genre.

Uptown Special is unapologetic in revelling in its musical influences and ultimately represents a light and mainstream-friendly primer to funk and soul.

Pretty much the only complaint is that, similar to all of his releases since the infamous EVOL, it delivers and lives up to the hype, but it doesn't build and surpass his previous work. It remains to be seen whether he will ever create an album that is better than everything he's done so far, but this is still an extremely solid release.

It's the second half of the album where Reinhart takes over the vocals to sing a string delightfully warped groove pop songs with math punk flourishes that the band feel the most cohesive.

It's another album of Neil being Neil, and that's a good thing.

IDLES are at their best when they know their limits and play to their strengths.

Lucinda Williams is an artist with the confidence to say what needs to be said, and the power to back it up. On This Sweet Old World, she might be repeating the words, but she's hardly repeating herself.

Despite the massed personnel, nothing sounds cluttered or excessive.

Twins might not completely match up to the perfect storm of Slaughterhouse, but it is another solid addition to Segall's discography.

Similarly to Manic, The Great Impersonator shines most when Halsey is unapologetically themselves.

Alberta Cross' familiar '70s rock soundscape is lush and relaxed--ideal for the self-reflection that's fostered by long drives, Sunday afternoons and quiet dinner conversations with friends.

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

Although the 40-minute LP may come off as the work of an artist still trying to find his sound, Long seems to somehow pull off an enviable genre-bend on An Act of Love.

Off/On is an all-around more palatable effort would be overselling the band's sophomore release, but once the listener ventures into mid-album territory, it's easy to point out Forma's mounting melodic maturity.

Raw Honey is a seductive and catchy pop record bearing its '60s rock influence openly and proudly.

Iradelphic is great stream-of-consciousness art.

Triple F Life is good because it's big and stupid.

On Night Melody, West has created a touchingly personal piece of art that feels more like an addendum to Howl than a jarringly new chapter in his musical journey.

Like any secret, it is sometimes sharp and poignant, sometimes mundane. And yet, in its best moments, it becomes a secret worth hearing.

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

Overall, On the Echoing Green is still an interesting listen with many enjoyable aspects, but a stronger, tighter EP might've been made from the first five tracks--or a stronger LP with less distortion and noise in the back half.

Fans will find much to love in Blue Smoke, and while nothing here approaches "Jolene" or "Coat of Many Colors" or "Here You Come Again," songs like the title track or "Banks of the Ohio" wouldn't feel out of place on a playlist next to these classics.

Blossom shows much promise for AI-augmented composition in the realm of electronic sound. It's unlikely that a software version of the Beatles will exist in our lifetime, but Purgas and Ginzburg have proven that the boundaries of technological possibility are completely mutable.

Though Key hosts the padding typical of latter day Doom, the highlights bode well for Madvillainy 2.

The leisurely pace of "In Your Dreams" is too soporific, while "Yeah You Know" lacks the punctuation that needs to accompany Burch when she resigns to "go out west a while." Despite this dilution at times, Bruch still burns bright on Quit the Curse.

The ace in the hole should be Maandig, so foreign is a female voice in the macho world of NIN's industrial muscle. But her vocals are too often drowned out, often intentionally, by the music.

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

If one were to quibble, Taste is maybe a couple of tracks too long, and could possibly use a bit more of the sincerity and heartfelt emotion on display on Islands' underrated 2012 gem A Sleep & A Forgetting. Regardless, this is another solid record from a prolific talent.

Dspite its morbid title, Loss of Life contains some of MGMT’s most sincere and hopeful music.

On Warmth, Blondes haven't drastically improved on their sound, but they feel at home delivering ten more high-quality textural cuts.

There are a few shining spots, some merely okay ones and an overall sense that K'Naan is savvy enough to play things on the safer side for now.

Despite this influx of collaborative talent, things sound largely the same on this album, but with a project as reliable as the Go! Team, that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Guided by tiered mixes and honest lyricism, POSTDATA has, for all intents and purposes, succeeded in transporting any inclined ear to a place filled with imagination and whimsy. While it may occasionally wander in finicky obscurity, it nevertheless oozes character and individuality.

It's a pleasurable, sun-drenched record — the work of a band who've found their voice, louder and clearer than before.

More than anything, the pair [James Chapman and Emma Anderson] effectively manage to touch on all the details that fans of Anderson and Lush might hope to hear without pandering or retreading old ground too heavily.

Expertly recorded by Martin Bisi (famous for his work with Swans, Sonic Youth and White Zombie), the production is perfect and the songs are mostly more than compelling enough to make it work.

It's a beautifully understated album with subtleties that reveal themselves on repeat listens. Hyperspace isn't quite what fans would expect from a team-up between Beck and the guy who wrote "Happy," and it's better for it.

Even though it doesn't reach the exhilarating highs of their peak moments, Deleter works as a serviceable showcase of the band's grasp of controlled rhythm and noise.

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

Side Effects is largely devoid of these big bombastic moments, save the seven-minute incision "NY Money" that centres the album. Nevertheless, White Denim hurtle through the record's nine songs (as brief as many of them are) at a pace that can't help but keep the listener engaged and excited for what comes next.

After 17 odd years of making solo albums, Neneh Cherry surfaces with the force of a jab rather than an uppercut. We appreciate the contact regardless.

The album's ten dirty bass, hydraulically placed rhythms come off like a more focused, implicit version of the Minnesota-born laptopper's previous work.

Creative production and Lennox's voice, which brims with beauty and character throughout the album, are admirable distractions from the holes in the songwriting, however.

So far, Cults have relied on that brand of fresh, unbridled energy that fuels new groups like them, making Static a fine example of an album running perfectly off of kinetics.

No Horizon pairs ecstasy with pensiveness, using experimentation, static, tension and texture to push Wye Oak's skills ever forward.

The result is a sonically coherent, and impressive, album that dances on the borders of multiple subgenres without ever really taking a full dive into any one.

The tracks on Apocalypse, girl flow into one another like smooth, glassy water, and the collaborations, with improv cellist Okkyung Lee, harpist Rhodri Davis and Swans' Thor Harris, add texture.

Most of Occupied with the Unspoken works like a well-executed indie film score: evocative, exigent and with purpose.

There are enough unexpected moments--a nice peppering of saxophone, the gospel choir on "I Like It In the Dark" and the velvety hum of closing ballad "Un Chant D'Amour--to distinguish this as the best album yet by these sunglasses-at-night-wearing rockers.

Ghetto Gods was created through a plague and a racial reckoning. So, it's understandable that the fun factor and the tempo have been dialled down. Heavy is the pen. Still, when those heroic ghosts and EarthGang pop in synchronicity, the music is downright out of this world.

It may be a bit platitudinous, but Temple's delicate voice and songwriting make it an enjoyable listening experience.

Without Goodman's unique artistic voice anchoring and guiding the proceedings, Music for Listening to Music To feels set adrift, done in not by its makers' stylistic diversions, but by their unwillingness to give the album a proper focal point.

From those raw, candid lyrics, to ScHoolboy's increasing pop acumen, CrasH Talk reveals many sides of an increasingly (and compellingly) unpredictable MC.

RBCF are a welcome addition to the range of Australian guitar bands taking the world by storm, their confident debut an exploration of angular v. melodic guitars and energetic rhythms.

Though they won't repeat the trick, Diana plunder '80s-aping blog-pop and find surprising riches in a long washed-out gold mine.

Ensemble sections expand and contract into brilliant solos by his musicians, and while this will be a difficult listen for some, it contains some amazing moments.

Although Box oddly and quite disappointingly omits Voigt's 1995 Modern EP and 1996 self-titled debut, the vinyl version adds in tracks that were previously unavailable in the format, along with the inclusion of 1999's Oktember EP and the hard-to-find "Tal 90" single.

This odd, emotionally varied collection of songs embraces the fluidity of sexuality and gender, yet acknowledges that finding a stable, strong connection with another person remains an anxiety-inducing task.

His latest is an unhurried flow of ambient piano pieces that, despite the implications of the title, are only momentarily dark and far from risqué, perhaps at times more suited for those soft intimate moments made for two, or most certainly personal reflections made for one.

The album is somewhat lacking in range, but otherwise, Agora offers no evidence of compromise. If anything, Fennesz turned that bit of adversity into artistic license.

Magma demonstrates a healthy admission and channelling of Gojira's explosive tendencies into a record that is truly an intriguing change of pace when considering the band's more eruptive past efforts.

A couple tracks are crowded and rambling, as the theatrical cacophony obscures intention and meaning in a way that bores rather than intrigues. But for the most part, the album's depth and texture are a refreshing contrast to the industry's current hyper-polished pop moment — and the complexity of the arrangements is essential to support the magnitude of Welch's vulnerability and fury.

For those who've held on for the ride and enjoyed the band's descent into the heart of darkness, it'll be a welcome addition to your already massive collection of the band's many gems.

Needless to say, Big Sean may not have solidified his position in the rap hall of fame, but is certainly in the process of paving his way.

With gale force drive and buffeting rhythms, Winter Kills is as entertaining as it is carnivorous.

Tracks like "Your Nostalgic Heart and Lung" and "PF, Day One" find RJD2 exploring the depths of his own synth work, without a sample in sight. Granted, they are actually some of the weaker tracks on the album, but it's a step towards a more mature sound that has room to grow.

Sometimes the melodrama is enough to cringe at; sometimes the sultriness is enough to make you blush. ... Overall though, Misadventures is an impeccably polished take on that sort of emotive sing-scream stuff that fans will love.

A fluid release, a chilled-out, soulful take on the Charlatans' psychedelic sound complemented by muted horns and jazzy keys.

It's a confident and proper return, written squarely from Gonzalez's comfort zone with a few fun twists from its undersung predecessor; It's exactly what we needed from M83 right now, even if it's sometimes a little too extra.

Songs Cycled is a striking reminder of Van Dyke Parks' songwriting strength and deft arranging touch (see the reworking of his classic "The All Golden") for those already in the know; for others, it might just make the perfect introduction to a legend so ahead of his time that his 1968 masterpiece is just now getting its due.

No Shame is exactly what it says it is--an album where all is revealed, even the unpleasant parts.

Coexist is far from a bad effort. Gentle sophisticates that the XX are, however, it's hardly surprising that the cutting edge got a little too sharp.

Just as prolific in death as they were in life (perhaps even more so), with Temporal, Isis continue to haunt their career like fretful ghosts.

During those carefree, unfussy peaks, Silk Rhodes sounds less like a retread and more like soul's next step forward.

It makes for a frankly less fun and memorable album, but Baauer remains a master of the big party moment, and some of these are red hot.

Throughout, We Fall is a slow, contemplative record, perfect for those introspective, late evenings. It occasionally has some interesting post-rock vibes, especially on the guitar-driven tracks, but elsewhere the slow piano playing is closer to older ambient records.

It's a comfortable collision of songs that probably won't gain many new listeners, but should find a home in real fans' collections, despite its lack of risk-taking.

The Early Years is a ferocious and borderline terrifying slab of feral noise-rock, but it's only a small indication of what it sounds like Girl Band might be capable of.

1989 fans will breathe a sigh of relief when "I Did Something Bad" kicks in, though, which starts off a string of shiny pop songs that not only feel like a more natural progression from the last album, but improve upon each listen in that sneaky way Swift songs tend to do. ... The moments on Reputation that Swift stans appreciate the most are likely the ones casual listeners will be quickest to dismiss.

I Like Fun remains a strong, if not exactly noteworthy album, simply because TMBG are a strong band that can pull off anything at this point, and although newcomers looking for examples of their late-career excellence should probably start with recent gems like Glean or Nanobots, longtime fans will find much to like here, crunchy guitars and all.

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.