Most of the tracks allow room to breathe before going into a freefall decent of multi-influenced experimentation. Often times it's a rather subtle marriage of jazz and hip-hop ("That Don't Make It So"), gospel and funk ("Time and Place"), soul and folk ("Goodbye Reason, Goodbye Rhyme").

Kelsey Lu's Blood, pumping with movement and what moves us, we tiny wholes, maybe isn't a continent so much as it is a bordered body, graceful in its clunky fullness, jostling with every pothole, the cello its longing pores come to life.

Compared to White's solo albums, Help Us Stranger feels like a low-stakes romp. And for a collaborative side-project, this is the best case scenario. White and Benson aren't trying to reinvent rock'n'roll, they're just bashing out some catchy tunes, and it's a blast to listen in on these old friends reconnecting.

A darker and more complex record, it displays a newfound maturity in Allison's arrangements and a decidedly higher set of stakes.

Cooper seems to have found just the right balance of electronic elements and traditional instrumentation for this album, as well.

An intoxicating mix of celestial soul, sprightly funk and glossy, luxurious rock'n'roll, Apollo XXI is a self-assured and sonically robust exploration of love, lust and identity politics. Lacy scatters pearls of post-adolescent wisdom in the lyrics, and drives the album forward with infectious melodies and an angelic falsetto. But Apollo's chewy production is where Lacy makes his mark.

While the execution has become more precise, more considered, the gigantic, swooping structures of the songs remain as thick and muscular as the Midgard Serpent, undulating around and encircling the world.

Instrumentally, there's a flare and excitement that was lacking on previous work. Each song is unique, rarely applying the same formula twice. Fortunately, she's ensured every musical choice, structural or instrumental, serves a purpose. ... Stella never beats around the bush, and because of that, there is a magnetism to this album.

On Fading Frontier, Deerhunter focus on their ability as a band to hypnotize and confound, which make the explosive moments here stand out that much more.

Horny, outrageous, delicate, queer and poised to rip flesh at any moment, Pirouette is the sound of a band at the height of its powers.

There is a conceptual weight to IRISIRI that accompanies the expert songcraft and meticulously produced arrangements without ever being burdensome. That the music itself stands on its own is testament to Drewchin's maturity as an artist; the presence of a thematic cohesion demonstrates the seductiveness of her universe.

The Next Day is a good latter-day Bowie record, worthy of at least a few listens, but since it's so evocative of his earlier, better work there's little reason not to put on Scary Monsters or Heroes instead.

New Multitudes shows, just as Mermaid Avenue did in 1998, that Woody Guthrie's work remains a living entity with a limitless capacity to inspire.

Rather than sticking with what worked before, Modern Baseball's two songwriters have pushed the band forward here, keeping their music in line with their rapidly maturing outlook.

Credit Conway for cranking out a smartly written collection of street rap and not stretching too far out of his zone just because he's now on Eminem's label.

The result is a catchy, cathartic experience that feels fun, even while wading through themes of loss, shame and eventually acceptance.

This Land is a triumph for Clark and a quantum leap forward for the blues.

Recorded live with no overdubs or loops, Never were the way she was is a perfect blend of Neufeld's violin virtuosity and Stetson's outside-the-box approach to saxophone and clarinet, their styles complementing yet pushing each other to new heights.

Love in Flying Colors is steeped in an honest, vulnerable lyricism bolstered by dreamy, feel-good synth vibes regarding the complex emotion called love and all it represents.

This is music of pure catharsis, making Hardcore Traxx not only an invaluable historical document but a hell of a great time.

At its best (the haunting "Ashes," the provocative "I Ain't The Girl," the killer cover of "To Love Somebody" and the title track), Faded Gloryville is a tour de force. Too bad the two weakest songs ("Run A Muck" and "Rundown Neighborhood") appear back-to-back, temporarily breaking the spell at the midway point.

It's clear this record is intended to be far more relaxing than revolutionary. If hippie-ish comfort is what you seek, take a Swim Inside the Moon.

Without any obligations to an overarching concept this time around, it stands as her most direct effort yet.

Overall, Blank Face LP has enough meat to warrant several satisfying helpings.

With so many of its songs employing fade-outs, Siberia also has this palpably unplanned feeling, which doesn't always pay off.

"The truth is, I'm good at this" she recently told Exclaim!, and Cheap Queen certainly backs that up.

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.

There are a few clunkers here. ... But these are minor complaints, and there's a masterpiece of a divorce album hidden in here.