As the musicians begin to ebb and flow toward the ninth and final movement, it's clear that Pharoah Sanders and Floating Points are so metaphysically in tune with their latest creation that their respective musical personalities almost disappear into the waves of sound, making Promises a recording that is more of a transcending mind meld than it is a collaboration.

Green to Gold is, at times, quite literal in its depictions of Silberman's personal experiences and other times intensely figurative, staring into the void of existentialism ("Am I incidental?" he asks on "Volunteer") with the kind of quiet assurance only the Antlers can evoke.

Although Bieber created a decent body of work, it's hard to get past that the sentiments of the overall message is skewed by the lack of effort towards creating music that addresses any sort of justice or lack thereof.

Chemtrails over the Country Club is sultry at times, syrupy sweet at others, and sad in a truer way than we have yet seen from Lana. It is a well-woven escape, but it is harder than ever not to wonder: at what cost?

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.

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.

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.

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.

This record drags in its second half, as several of their records have now done, but there are some all-timers to add to their best-of playlist (along with their standalone single "Warn Me," a phenomenal song not included here) and the rest is enjoyable enough. Tigers Jaw make albums that are good, sometimes very good, but not quite great.

For a band as hardboiled as Arab Strap, As Days Get Dark is nonetheless a love letter to the brave, ambitious nature the band has built their audience upon. The swings are bigger, the misses are broader, the hits are even more rewarding — for Arab Strap, there's no other reasonable way to approach it.

Electrically Possessed contains some of their most daring, buoyant and surprisingly solid set of songs, framing Stereolab as a band who managed to stay adventurous and weird right to the end.

Harlecore is '90s rave held up for review, assessment and full enjoyment, and if there isn't a ton of depth here, the breadth (with Harle essentially exploring four different sub-styles through his various personas) is more than impressive enough to make up for it. It's all pulled off with such glee and energy, that in terms of pure enjoyment, it's very difficult to fault Harlecore.

L.W. may not boast many surprises, but it cements its makers as masters of their realm.

As usual, fascinating choices abound when a lost Bob Dylan session is unearthed (and, excitingly, signalling that maybe there's way more of this kind of stuff to come), but this one feels particularly prototypical and casual, and, with good humour, was intended to warm folks up — to each other and the material — more than get its hypothetical audience hot and bothered.

It's clear from listening to and watching Way Down in the Rust Bucket that this was a truly special occasion that now lives on, in this remarkable new document of Crazy Horse in all its (ragged) glory.

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.

It's tempting to imagine what it might sound like if Cloud Nothings took these experiments further and gave their sound a more radical reinvention. As it is, The Shadow I Remember perfectly encapsulates everything the band do so well, and hints at what might be to come.

Carnage covers broader range than most of the Bad Seeds' recent records, cramming plenty of Cave's various stylings into a neat, eight-song package. For all of Cave's hunger and glee to return to the foreboding sounds of his past, it's when he opts for pure catharsis and bliss that he album achieves its full power.

Other than a few lapses, the hooks, synths and classical instruments effectively recontextualize Architects' musicianship. For Those That Wish to Exist proves these guys can successfully diversify their sound.

Little Oblivions is generous and giving; it's not only a public display of personal catharsis, but also an act of collective commiseration and an invitation to heal.

Jenkins' winding writing is cerebral and referential, nearly every song capable of opening a Wikipedia rabbit hole. However, much like Norwegian art-pop virtuoso Jenny Hval, she works wonders in the place between heart and mind; her intellectualism is never overbearing, instead revealing a dedication to explaining the unexplainable.

While A Billion Little Lights as a whole is not as elegantly cohesive as Wild Pink's past work, the starry-eyed melodies shine stronger and more confidently than ever.

As the Love Continues is one of them. Already an enduring album, it will surely solidify Mogwai's venerated status as shamans of our collective consciousness.

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.

Across its 13 songs, the beats are crisp, the choruses pronounced and the hooks sharp.

Seven albums and 16 years into her music career, Williams seems more confident than ever in doing as she pleases instead of pleasing others.

On TYRON, slowthai sounds more together and present than ever.

Tying ambient soundscapes, borderline IDM and subtle snapshots of traditional music into a coherent, yet distinctive, body of work, this auspicious debut forecasts a promising future for Yu Su. Anyone would be happy to hop in a boat and sail these waters for hours and hours.

While Good Woman is not the most notable stop on the Staves' journey, it retains all of their most delectable elements — heart-hitting harmonies, lovely melodies, and moments of lyrical spark — that have come to define their work.

While this third entry could be classified as largely more of the same, there's enough freshness here to warrant a closer look, especially if you're already a fan of the project.

It is too early to call this the band's best work, as there is so much more to come from this band going forward. For a heavy album full of unexpected surprises, We Are Always Alone is an ideal second full-length from an up-and-coming band.

Sound Ancestors is a mixed bag if ever there was one. It's funky, it's psychedelic, it's jazzy, dirty, clean, and mean. It's Madlib.

The meshing of classically trained and self-taught players adds depth to the band's sound, creating a unique concoction of precise technical skill and raw, almost primal passion, leading to an unpredictable instrumental delight.

Inventive, lush, and propelled by taut rhythms and strings that gust like competing winds, Ignorance matches the subtle drama and sparkling intelligence of Lindeman's writing, exploding her music into opalescent shards.

Medicine at Midnight isn't good because of the ways it pushes the envelope, but because of how upholds the band's status as rock torchbearers. This is the Foos doing what they do best.

The ambitions, expansions, and collaborations on Vertigo Days mostly pay off, sacrificing a little thematic cohesion for the reward of greater variety in sound. It does the good work of forging musical links out of broken global barriers.

With 12 tracks and a runtime of barely more than half an hour, any flaws are minor and the album breezes by. The arrangements may be ambitious, but there's very little pomp or grandeur here; this is just another low-stakes success in a long and varied career.

Stripped-down in concept, and impenetrable in execution, I've Seen All I Need to See is perhaps the purest summation of the Body's artistry. Harnessing the core of their heart of darkness, King and Buford continue to blaze trails with immersive antipathy.

Thunderstorm Warnings takes everything the Besnard Lakes have ever done well and provides it in abundance. There's nothing here that they haven't done before, but no one else has ever come close to encroaching on the band's niche of colliding intrepid Rush and King Crimson-style prog with the atmosphere of Montreal's storied post-rock scene, so why change now?

These tracks point toward a more compelling musical direction that would allow Parks to stand out as a singular pop artist, but the overwhelmingly simple bedroom pop stylings that decorate the majority of the album struggle to leave a mark. ... Nevertheless, Parks' wise words are indeed the album's saving grace.

While Home lacks the consistency of previous records, it makes a strong case for Rhye as a pop star waiting in the wings, à la the Weeknd, thanks to a voice versatile enough to complement any instrumental choice. Four albums in, Rhye has finally begun to branch out, and not a moment too soon.

The real fun of Cooler Returns, though, lies in the clever details that you might never understand, no matter how many times you listen.

The formula certainly has its merits though, and Bicep bring them to the fore better than most on Isles, and all with an appealingly late-night, cosmopolitan flair, where ghostly fragments of Hindi, Turkish pop or Bulgarian choirs are just as likely to hover among the neon synths as the usual breathy trance sirens. It gives the album a bustling, urban energy that very much works in its favour, even if its style might slightly outweigh its substance sometimes.

On Magic Mirror, Charles may be self-doubting and even gloomy at times, but she never loses her glowing spirit and hope for the many more adventures her life will lead her on.

Sullivan is often overlooked as the R&B master she is, but her latest project displays the vocal range of legends before her, demonstrating her ability to capture the qualms of life and love relevant to the realities of dating in the age of the internet.

The first half of Spare Ribs is actually quite slowed down and weird, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it doesn't complement Williamson's vocals as well. ... The title track and "Thick Ear" absolutely steal the show. Sleaford Mods have shown they can do it slow, but they're still much better when they floor it.

While the constant need for creative freedom and instrumental variety means that Drunk Tank Pink begins to meander towards the record's back end, a handful of sprawling epics showcase Shame's enviable talent for vivid storytelling.

Though it's not pushing boundaries, Reluctant Hero proves metal can be catchy without being stupid. If melodic groove metal needs a hero in 2020, it's Killer Be Killed.

Created in a time of distress and despair, Fuck Art is pure escapism. Looking back 20 years from now, you'd have no idea it was made during one of the most world-changing events of the past century; the only thing apocalyptic about it is the ground-shaking sound of a cranked-up Marshall stack.

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.

By not only fearlessly facing grief, but also honouring Justin's sly humor, raw vulnerability and nimble songwriting, Steve Earle fittingly sees his young Cowboy off into the sunset.

With CEL, nothing is simply uniform, which makes for a compelling listen every time.

There's lots to enjoy here for old and new fans alike.

Instead of collapsing under any pressures with his new band, Mercer enthusiastically pushes back with this album, shrugging off any doubt that he is done reinventing himself as an artist.

She takes a left turn after her more recognizable house palette in the first half of the EP.

Over the three-song run of "Alfred's Theme" (which jacks Charles Gounod's "Funeral March of a Marionette," best known as the theme music to Alfred Hitchcock Presents, to delirious effect), "Tone Deaf," and "Book of Rhymes" (which climaxes with a flurry of DJ Premier scratches), Slim Shady stuffs more rewind-worthy punchlines and flow variations than most rappers will deliver in a whole career. ... Other attempts feel more forced. ... More compelling are the two tracks produced by D.A. Got That Dope.

His music already transcended time, but with the completion of this trilogy he has drawn a link through the past 50 years with his virtuosic compositions.

Cudi sparkles in the first two acts. ... While satisfying, the most endearing and powerful standout moments appear in the third and fourth acts.

The sheer breadth of talent that Robert Chater and Tony Di Blasi have assembled is dizzying, their collaborators as imaginatively selected as their samples.

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

In its entirety, the collaborative effort is compelling; Plastic Bouquet is the furthest thing from a plastic collection.

Origin of the Alimonies is an opera, complete with three acts, an overture and an interlude. Sonically, it picks up on past Liturgy motifs: minimalism, black metal, classical music and electronic beats. The scope and scale, however, is incredibly vast.

Tasteful inclusions of every kind, powerful melodies and dense, wry lyrics make Tim Melina Theo Bobby an unmissable conclusion for fans of Midwest emo, electronic rock, and strong songwriting.

This isn't a Sigur Rós album, and that's just fine. Lack of reverb-soaked bowed guitars notwithstanding, this collaboration vividly reimagines a bastion of medieval Icelandic poetry. The only issue is how long it spent under wraps.

While BE is a slight departure from BTS's usual offerings, its more matter-of-fact and laidback vibe could pull in new fans who are looking for music to relate to in this crappy year.

The album peaks when Cyrus finally delivers retro rock-inspired collaborations with both Billy Idol and Joan Jett. These two champions of 1980s rock bring some grit to the album, taking Cyrus into the heavier direction she's been teasing for years.

Most of the material just hovers around the same tempo, tone, lyrical style and sound dynamics, robbing the listener of any sort of emotional peaks or valleys that are so important when floating a double album. It's simply a shame that the execution of Cyr fails to match the naked ambition Corgan's concepts promised.

Her party-girl braggadocio feels more nuanced by recent tragedy. Yes, listeners are blasted with sex-positive bangers that bounce from wall-to-wall, like the infectious "Body," which will surely be gentrified by White TikTok in the coming days, but these moments are made human next to moments like "Circles" where she reflects on recent trauma.

In allowing others back into the fray and stripping their sound, Longstreth has once again tapped into what made the band so engrossing in the first place. 5EPs feels like a restart, a long and considered exhale.

Donoghue and Holland continue to be unmoved by the larger cultural forces around them, producing a record that doubles down on their best and, at times, worst impulses.

Those who actually contemplate this album and its live counterpart on their artistic merits might well recognize them, as equal to anything else in his stirring, outspoken back catalogue.

Something to Lose is evidence of Better Person committing further to terrain covered on his earlier EP, mining often overlooked musical traditions with obvious enthusiasm and yearning credibility, an effect that is elevated when paired with Goldwasser's expertise.

Those who prefer the more straightforward and rousing fare the two have released outside this project should be advised that III is definitely more ethereal drift than shooting star. Longtime fans will know what to expect, however, and while it's more of the same perhaps, it's arguably the best iteration yet.

PLUS is certainly a stronger example of Autechre's range than SIGN. This does come at a cost, where the cohesion of their previous album is somewhat lost on this most recent one; this is especially telling in the latter half of the album, where the programming becomes somewhat disjointed. Nevertheless, any Autechre project is worth praise solely due to the duo's consistent aural innovation.

There is little to be surprised by on K.G, but perhaps its recognizability is a testament to the band's certainty of who they are, what they are here to do, and their intention to not stop any time soon.

Back with arguably more certified bangers than before, clipping. throws caution to the wind with soul-rending sonics and elite-tier rapping. At the very least, Visions doubles the likelihood of a hapless Disney+ user following Diggs from Hamilton to a horrorcore masterclass.

While the album understandably contains some filler within its bottom third, POWER UP nonetheless falls securely within AC/DC's great B-level albums; just as solid and memorable as Let There Be Rock or For Those About to Rock (We Salute You).

A bit of a crime he's been laying low so long but thankfully, Adulkt Life is yet another mighty, invigorating musical force he's a part of.

Castle is the lone musician on Monarch Season, playing guitar, piano and harmonica, and the songs thrive in this quiet.

Although its runtime of 16 tracks and 67 minute means that a portion of Q36 dips in energy, Rentals fans will no doubt count Sharp's latest outing as a ambitious, astute and listenable achievement.

positions has hints of classical and R&B — staples of Grande's previous work. Songs like the title track and "love language" weave in orchestral strings, violins and catchy backbeats to elevate the listening experience, effortlessly meshes these contrasting genres to keep her pop sound distinctive.

Maya simply blows any of Frusciante's previous electronic efforts out of the water. He has somehow pulled an IDM-infused jungle record out of his backside that could easily rival any of Squarepusher's.

It took three records and 10 years for the band to refine their sound within the recent shoegaze renaissance, but The Great Dismal is without a doubt one of the genre's modern classics.

MOPN would have landed much better if it abandoned the balancing act between the past and the present in exchange for wholehearted embrace of Lopatin's current realities. Lopatin has proven to us that he can deliver hits; it's time that he believes it himself.

What arose from those conjuring sessions is a smoky blend of well-tempered jazz, nearly-still new age, and exploratory adult contemporary vibes. The music is hushed, steady and patient. Synths flourish, horns intonate and a slippery bass swerves all over the place.

Opting to re-record a largely unknown demo is a fitting way to bring closure to Mr. Bungle's catalogue. Further, the inclusion of previously unheard songs makes this feel like a proper new release, as opposed to an excuse to shove a nostalgic name back into the world.

Don't Shy Away is ultimately as gratifying as it is ambitious. Brian Eno was right: Loma are the real deal.

It's the musical equivalent of a thrilling roller coaster ride through a hellish landscape, injecting a much-needed dose of fun in otherwise dark days.

III is fuzzy, fast-paced and ferocious in all of the ways we would expect from FUZZ. Ty Segall, Charles Moothart, and Chad Ubovich have carefully conjured cacophony once again, in what might be at once their most spontaneous and their most down-to-earth record to date.

Gone are the crushing riffs and transitions, replaced with subdued progressions. It's a real blight on much of the record, unable to keep the listener enthralled or interested.

Karma & Desire never comes close to being a dance record — it's much too opaque and fragile and weird for that. Instead, listeners are left with a longform thinkpiece that's expertly conceived, well executed and brilliantly sequenced.

Such a wide breath of influences can come across as convoluted in the hands of less-skilled musicians, but Darnielle has always had the right people around him to understand his vision, whether its voluble tracks like "Rat Queen" or the stripped-back shuffle of the title track.

The vibe is folk, rock, country and kind of homespun and laidback but, like early John Lennon records, there is sharpness to the starkness.

On Letter to You, Springsteen is at his rawest and most reflective. ... Letter to You may well be Springsteen addressing his most significant bandmates and his audience with love, but it may as well be something he wrote and sent ahead to 2020.

Lenker's work continues to reimagine love and loss, and albums like songs are her way of turning those complex emotions into something timeless.

Shades spotlights a band with diverse influences and the ability to cogently and cohesively re-contextualize them. Additionally, the album features one infectious melody after another, Raisa Khan emerging as one of the more intriguing voices of her generation.

The album benefits from the presence of a diverse array of musicians and also showcases Veirs' talent as a singer/songwriter and multi-instrumentalist, and Martine's skills in percussion as well as production. My Echo is not so much about emptiness as it is about how far one's sound can travel.

For seasoned fans looking for their next fix of boundary-pushing explorations, this will likely seem a tad pedestrian, but SIGN is still an incredible piece of work, even if it's not bending the rules of music production into infinity.