It's a multi-layered affair but each one provokes serious feelings and thoughts for those who peel them back.

Modern Country is a conceptually ambitious, heartfelt undertaking. Some might notice the lack the unbridled colour that characterized Impossible Truth, but ultimately, it isn't enough to hinder the listener's experience.

Sore feels like the culmination of something that's been bubbling under in the city, the perfect marriage of pop craftsmanship and violent anger.

On his third LP, James Holden establishes a sound wholly his own, allowing The Animal Spirits' gorgeous, absorbing and wonderfully unkempt mix of psych, jazz, folk and electronic to infiltrate the listener's psyche.

Sparhawk's plastic electronics are less invasive but still serve to create a new reality, sublimating the sadness and anger to a degree where they are less raw and more manageable.

The album brings the dead back to life with the best kind of dark thrash, which is dripping with West coast hardcore aggression.

There’s a delicacy to the way Kirby’s voice interplays with these vulnerable arrangements, especially on guitar ballads like the earnest “Party of the Century” (which Kirby co-wrote over FaceTime with ANTI- labelmate Christian Lee Hutson).

Topped off with exhaustive liner notes with essays and photos, Masculin Féminin is specifically designed for completists, providing superfans a satisfying wealth of unreleased material.

Loma is also the product of atypical conditions, written and recorded as the marriage of two of its members was dissolving. The trio seem to have leaned in to that situation: Loma captures the intimacy of such heightened circumstance with layered, compelling nuance.

What makes Interior Architecture such a success, though, is how effortless his attention to detail feels, as each movement flows into another to help create an experimental noise concept album.

Not a single cut on Oh My God feels out of place. Each song is effulgent in its composition and intention.

The once nitty-gritty production that better helped listeners live in Sheer Mag's retro world has been tidied up. Having polished up so much that the line between self-awareness and cliché is stretched thin, it's hard to tell whether a concept has been burrowed or held hostage all together. In many ways, the charm is gone. Thankfully, a song like "Hardly to Blame," finds ways to make the best of less-than-ideal situations.

She is loud and thoughtful. The melodies are flirty and messy. Fake It Flowers is an album made to play with guts and grit. At such a young age, Kristi knows herself extremely well, yet is mindful enough to give up only so much of herself to this strong collection of songs.

Its sparseness allows the listener to reflect, in the time and space, on the moments of staggering beauty in the poems.

Throughout the album's 11 tracks and over 42 minutes of music, the quartet manage to brood their way through numerous artistic themes, from Bruegel the Elder to Samuel Beckett, running each through a Western American scope.

Save the Gun is certainly Militarie Gun's most "mainstream" record, with synths, strings and studio tricks co-mingling with distortion and Shelton's caustic, confessional roar. Unfortunately, not every song is a winner, with a number of uninspired tracks in the second half of the record plodding along without the energy or muscle of the first. .... Thankfully, the final act is positively anthemic, with Shelton's voice and the band's booming sincerity keeping the songs from entering derivative "stadium rock" territory.

Sensual and honest, Viva Hinds feels close to the chest, with throbbing pianos, soaring synthesizers, and drum machines accompanying profound reflections on staying true to oneself in love.

It's a slightly scattered record, but one fuelled by an invigorating conviction and helmed by an artist with the gravitational pull to make it all align.

Plenty of tracks here end abruptly, which likely works well for their use in the film itself, and maybe less so in an independent listen. But even removed from visual and narrative components of Hereditary, Stetson's compositions still manage to conjure a deeply unsettling, unrelentingly tense mood.

With Weird Faith, Diaz manages to toe a wonderful narrative line, with all the excitement and trepidation of a new relationship perfectly captured. The deeper you get into the album, the more like you feel you’re living inside her head — it’s a journey worth taking.

It's to CHVRCHES' credit that Screen Violence doesn't suggest any shallow, put-down-your-phone answers to the questions it raises. Instead, the album makes an unflinching appraisal of present-day anxieties to summon the vitality needed to keep going, in spite of what keeps coming through the screen.

This is Lone's best work to date, and one that shows it's possible to keep evolving while holding onto a strong sense of identity.

The overall vibe of the collection is likely to put a smile on your face (hell, even Townes sounds a mite less melancholy, thanks to the spirited accompaniment), making it a perfect fit for your next beer 'n bourbon patio party.

Fin serves as both introduction and transition.

It's by no means new territory for the Swedish outfit, but a move that keeps their further foray into prog rock enjoyable.

Think Burial operating on a slower, divergence-filled soundscape.

Though this is his most contemplative release to date, Flatland still seems fidgety, with each track seemingly owing little to the ones before it.

At its best moments ("Long Road," "Funeral in my Heart," "Fennario") Landry comes into his own, and the record feels deep, substantial. Too bad he lets himself slip from time to time into a mimicry that feels beneath him.