This is a solid album more than capable of holding fans over until a second release.

With minimalist lyrics, easy-going beats and subdued horns, Ford's songwriting and voice shine through, tempting to you to press the repeat button.

The best stuff on Short Movie sounds like it may have originated in the most painfully personal places.

It's exciting to see artists try and change and evolve their sound, so while it doesn't always work here, Seth Bogart definitely shows enough promise to make one wonder what future non-Hunx recordings from Bogart will sound like.

Each of the five songs are fantastically paced, building up to massive payoff every time; it's something that's never been out of Terror's range of ability, but a collection of songs consistently of this calibre has been a long time coming.

The evolution can sometimes be clunky, like on "A-Ok" and "People Are Pets," when Thomson's vocal venom and the band's brash tendencies clash in some ways with the songs' brighter moods. But with "Leash" and "Bolt Cutters," they find a softer side that works quite well; each is lifted by a nicely harmonized chorus, and beneath the blown-out speakers is timeless songwriting that could be stripped down to the bones and still stand on its own.

On Bad Vacation, the emotions may be heavy, but that won't stop listeners from dancing along to them and air-guitaring in their bedrooms.

Music about climate disaster usually feels somewhat dogmatic and thematically grandiose. But on Tomorrow's Fire, Ella Williams of Squirrel Flower takes the wide scale of the apocalypse and taps into its most intimate and personal corners.

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.

The result of this endless metamorphosis--it's over an hour long--is an album that is eventually rewarding, but only to those who are determined to follow its scattered pathway to the satisfying, aggregate end.

On his Late Night Tales, Floating Points shows off his exceptional taste and curation skills, assembling a captivating set of songs that test just how "chill" a chill-out compilation can get.

While this release really doesn't break any boundaries, it's beautiful and doesn't demand much more than good feelings. In these times, that's no small thing.

On Big Swimmer, they embrace the uncertainty of it all with refreshing stamina and poise; letting the forces at play wreak some havoc so that they may reach new ground, transformed.

It may take a while before 'Allelujah! Don't Bend! Ascend! is accepted amongst the ranks of their earlier work, if that ever happens, but ultimately, this is the same epic, mystifying GY!BE as always.

With a bit better pacing and fewer drawn-out moments between songs, the record could have been the best of their career, but still stands as a fine addition to their discography.

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.

Ought are moving forward on Room Inside the World, adding new elements to their sound while largely retaining the tension that makes the band so compelling.

The pair have fully blossomed from their early DIY start, showcasing an incredible range of indie pop craftsmanship and a grounded centredness built on empathy and understanding.

Compared to Memorial, the band's previous release, Guidance plays it straight and heavy, granting the listener fewer moments of mercy from the onslaught of Russian Circles' music.

In honest and raw fashion, Earl Sweatshirt unmasks both sides of success.

Vince has managed to not only be acerbic but entertaining on his newest release. Its only drawback is its extremely short runtime.

Basinski's latest effort is ambitious yet remains rooted in what he does best: instilling a multitude of visceral, yet ambiguous, feelings within his listener.

Although Regards / Ukłony dla Bogusław Schaeffer won't stand as their most approachable LP, nor will it be remembered as their most audacious (it's most likely in between the two), Matmos have cemented their rightful place within the annals of some of the most resourceful and inventive multimedia artists of their generation.

While Fault Lines sees the transitory Deliluh maintain their hankering for neurotic storytelling and bleak narration, they've tapped into an arcane musical world of enveloping darkness predestined for a band that was bound to take their scene by storm before global pandemonium ensued.

Chaney moves with ease from nearly operatic to contemporary and casual and sounds equally at home.

World Eater matches its brutal releases with hope and luminosity. It's a radical, adventurous exploration--and celebration--of the relationship between darkness

He may have ditched the grit that got him here, but the glam he's donning now suits him just fine. While the horse remains untamed, the reins have clearly been fastened.

It captures the sense of being not here, and not there, but somewhere pleasantly ambiguous — a Land of No Junction, indeed.