On Life, Dan Friel's beats and rhythms come off less stingy and cloaked, allowing the noise to finally meet the listener (almost) halfway.

The mix is so unique that it, plus the running time, might drive casual listeners away. But if you're that sort of person who likes Mayhem and Mavis Staples, this is for you.

Sincerely, Future Pollution is Timber Timbre's most confident record. The lyrics remain obtuse, but even if it's not clear that Kirk knows what he wants to say, he surely knows how he wants it to sound.

While Gardner's music isn't exactly anything new or groundbreaking, it serves as an appropriately nostalgic reminder of a time when it would have been.

Invisible Life is a great electronic pop record that sees Lange meld the experimental and pop threads of his music seamlessly.

Although there are moments that show cracks, such as the uneasy, meandering riffs on "Born in a Rut" and the ridiculous chorus of "Canna Business," the majority of the straightforward thrash songs here demonstrate that Testament's magic has yet to fade.

B7 is meticulous in its references to pop and R&B history, of which Brandy's own career is such an important facet.

They're disorienting, at times disturbing and very abstract, which basically makes it the perfect visual representation of the album. The record feels like it's falling apart at times, but there's beauty in its disarray--like its accompanying videos, it's hard to look away.

We can't help but hope that after eight years, he may have tried something a little more off the beaten path. That being said, fans will surely enjoy more Torske in their lives, and Byen is Bjørn Torske at his most idyllic.

Neō Wax Bloom is a fantastical cartoon that's crash-landed in reality, and it begs your attention.

Every bit as accomplished and rewarding as Simian Mobile Disco's recent work, Swisher is electronic music for the connoisseur.

Though it does eventually get bogged down under its own excess, considering the weight Slipknot had to shoulder to even get this album out, it's a considerable accomplishment and a lovely eulogy to their fallen comrade.

Alex G is one of the most distinctive characters working in indie rock today, and despite some of its shortcomings, the songs on Headlights still prove that. But rather than being a victory lap, Alex G's first major label record feels self-destructive. Maybe he's not quite ready for the burden of prosperity.

Something Like a War feels ambitious and searching, navigating the complex experiences of Bainbridge and their collaborators.

Full Closure and No Details feels more like a journey to the closure Cohen seeks through her songwriting than an answer itself — and what an important and journey it is.

It makes for immersive listening, even when tracks fail to sustain themselves. ... Despite its digressions, Have We Met is rich and varied enough to offer more than just throwback thrills.

It's a sweet musical reprieve from radio presenters with beaming suicide smiles gracing subway posters with snappy catchphrases.

Panic Blooms is a shadowy, leaking sibling, licking its wounds and pulling back from the sunlight. There seem to be fewer entry points here than with other BSMR albums, but there's also a comfort in its unabashed adherence to exploring bad feelings: hearing weirdos call it like they see it, even when the going's gotten rough, offers some strange sense of reprieve.

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.

The album's arrangements are the least complex they've been since Superchunk's early days, making these 11 tracks less immediately sticky than previous efforts. A bit more teeth would have made this one for the ages.

Jardín serves straight-up soul and funk with a pop sensibility. Garzón-Montano's vocals are solid and serviceable, the album production robust and efficient and the musical mindset supported by a strong level of craft.

Relationships with women are at the forefront of Tha Carter V, including a desperate cry for help from his mother on "I Love You Dwayne," which leads into the sorrowful "Don't Cry," featuring a chorus from the late XXXTENTACION. ... Despite the revelations, the album is not without its expected bangers.

Some songs stick to the usual anarchic ideas, "The Hanging Man" being a tasty cut worthy of inclusion on any forthcoming Best Of, but there are also introspective nightmare-lullabies like "Annaline," "Amnesia" and "Cathedrals of Heaven." ... Easygoing suits Gira.

There is a sense of indulgence here, moments that could read as self-important, particularly when Kozelek dips into criticism, but themes of loss, of displacement, and of holding onto what has held you in the past bring completeness.

A solid album but also not a surprising one. To boot, the main thing that grounds this album with a sense of time and place is the political side of it.

Flood is much less didactic than its predecessor — it isn't Donnelly's job to teach us, but she still demands and warrants our attention.

Oddly captivating in running just shy of 40 minutes, Splendor & Misery is hardly your overblown concept record that runs far too long. Indeed, it's worth multiple listens for both its out-of-this-world production and Diggs' one-two punch of lyricism and bafflingly effortless delivery.

The record has an unfinished, ramshackle quality to it, almost as if Segall recorded it on a whim, but it's still explosive--nothing seems preordained or fussed over.