The album can so ricochet because of Folick's sprawling vocal range, which can quiver at atmospheric, Sinead O'Connor altitudes only to plummet into St. Vincent growls and skips.

Intentionally or not, Hynes has surreptitiously convinced listeners to deeply engage with his art; we're digging for the grooves, searching out the hooks while questioning our own habits and assumptions, as we look for our own meaning in the music. And there's plenty in Negro Swan.

Across its 10 songs, Don't Forget Me is as concise as it is exciting. Not a note is wasted, not a second under-utilized. What truly sets it apart is how comfortable Rogers seems embodying her full potential.

Maybe Cuz I Love You isn't what Aretha Franklin would sound like, had she made a rap album, but Lizzo created a beautiful sonic journey through different eras of music, and for that, it deserves a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

There will be some very painful moments where you'll be forced to end the song half way through, only to start from the beginning later. That said, if you're in a comfy spot and don't plan on going anywhere, alter your state and listen to this record from beginning to end; it will take you places.

Originating as instrumental studio sketches, Kember's change in scenery gave birth to lyrics that add substance to the LP.

SABLE, fABLE won't just make your head bob — it'll also make you excited for Bon Iver's next inevitable curveball.

Coriky is its own, beautifully compelling thing. There is love and respect flowing between the three players and it's a palpable part of this expression that is emotive, reasoned, and rather relaxed. Once this record's playing, the Coriky universe is a fascinating one to be a part of.

Vince Staples is the rapper's most personal and emotionally resonant project yet, and the choice to opt for a stripped-back approach complements the content greatly. Vince's blunt and bleak observations on life, death, humanity, gang culture, paranoia and trauma fit perfectly with the sparse and skeletal soundscape of this LP. It feels like every instrumental here was crafted to give his words the room they need to have the impact they're meant to.

If you wait, there is a reward for those interested in committing to a whole album; a final refrain. This is the reality of taking chances — and, as the protracted ending of "Match-Lit" proves, Case refuses to compromise for her artistic vision for digestibility or easy answers.

It's certainly not the culture-shifting force that The Fame or Born This Way were, but it does recapture some of that former glory after some years where Gaga's biggest contributions have been blockbuster soundtrack ballads.

The result is one of the most eminently playable and rewarding electronic albums of 2014, and one that respectfully casts a glance backwards while sounding both indelibly contemporary and unmistakably Caribou.

Currents is melodic, pretty, but there's a pervasive sense of melancholy here; each uplifting track feels as though it's masking sorrow with shimmering synth, a teaspoon of sugar to help the medicine down.

Her songwriting and lyrics are truthfully captivating and fascinatingly realistic.

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.

No Joy have learned a lot in the five years since their last full-length, 2015's More Faithful and Motherhood is the perfect encapsulation of that.

Throughout Dawn, she exhibits wit and exemplary control and the blurred genre lines on the album are her playground.

Radical finds the group doubling down and levelling-up their expansive, swaggering metalcore in every way possible.

Rebound continues her trajectory as an distinctive artist who's ever-skilful in her sonic explorations.

With this fearlessly vulnerable, triumphantly anthemic album, Little Simz asserts herself among the queens of her genre--Janelle Monáe, Lauryn Hill, Missy Elliott and Erykah Badu. Stillness in Wonderland is a wonder to behold.

Julia Jacklin is a unique talent. Know her. With PRE PLEASURE, Jacklin once again makes herself impossible to dismiss. She not only lives up to the hype, she deserves more of it.

Despite the often abrasive experimental flourishes, the album retains a joyous sense of melody and pulse that makes it undeniably fun at its core.

Time Ain't Accidental is filled with minimalist modern country ballads that gently dissolve like a sugar cube on your tongue.

It's a piece that Basinski apparently revisited and refined throughout 2016, a year made monumental by its cultural losses--and it's one of his very best.

Like the 6 God's "playlist," this mixtape has no higher purpose than to let its creators run wild, showcasing their prodigious talents with frequent moments of pop brilliance.

2017-2019 is the music we need in 2020: ambitious, fearless and provocative.

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

Like all of her best work, Akoma is heavy, mysterious and boundless. This is Jlin's world; we're just lucky enough to listen in.