Overall, the 12-track Resistance merges R&B, soul, electro and funk in a package that's compact and complete.

It's an admirably strange structure--one that doesn't make much aesthetic sense, but keeps things unpredictable for a whopping 83 minutes. ... A weird and wonderful farewell from the idiosyncratic project.

Le Kov feels more commanding than 2014's Y Dydd Olaf, where Gwenno revised an obscure Welsh sci-fi novel into a concept album of '80s-tinged ice pop (sung mostly in Welsh; only its closing track was in Cornish). Here, there's a fuller array of sounds at play, and its vision feels more confidently achieved.

When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? is a debut record that showcases a bold artistic vision and a willingness to move beyond the boundaries of pop conventions.

As per usual, every song Homme touches ends up being undeniably sexy, but it's unlikely you'll want to take it off and get it on, listening to it. Post Pop Depression isn't the sound of an acclaimed artist seamlessly slipping away, but a wild animal screaming with all his might into the night.

A charming and disarming album.

The instrumental cuts are warm and warped, hazy and slow-burning, all buzzing with bass and landing loudly in the realm of beat making.

Calvi remains in firm control on Hunter, but she lets loose more than enough moments of bliss to satisfy.

The Glorious Dead is an achingly self-aware throwback record, focusing more on the strength of each song than the album's overall structure.

As with all of his records, it's better to view Ryan Adams in the context of his career, rather than on its own, which makes this a very strong contender in a surprisingly dense field.

With plenty of captivating textures, there is lots to explore on the record, as there is in the world, but the deeper one goes, the more bountiful the rewards.

Stargate Music is a brilliant addition to the outpouring in the L.A. beat scene, a beautiful amalgamation of raw experimentation and sound fusion that raises this concept album well above others who have come before.

he only complaint (quibble really), is that a number of the pieces don't have endings. ... Otherwise, this is an enjoyable and important document. One of many for a pioneer we are all grateful to have discovered.

Much of Please Be Honest is filled with mid-tempo material, but unlike his recent work, Pollard seems obsessed with guitar textures and vocal effects here, making Please Be Honest an intriguing success.

All the elements that have made for their most enjoyable material are still here, and the band shows they are just as capable as they have always been on captivating listeners.

Kesha shines brightest on "Woman," an undeniably funky number whose soulful beat is driven by the Dap-Kings' legendary horns. Unedited takes of giddy laughter shared between Kesha and her co-writers in the vocal booth pepper the song, demonstrating an artist who refuses to be stripped of her joy.

Frankie Rose might not be the face of Beverly, but Careers is one of the best things she's done to date. But Drew Citron deserves most of the credit.

Repeated listening makes it hard not to see the album as some sort of quasi-confessional mini-masterpiece, and if not that, at least another example of his increasing strength as a songwriter.

What sets Dagdrøm apart from their other work is just how deep this rabbit hole goes and how menacing the sounds echoing up from its depths are.

The album perfectly captures the abrasive and raw sound that Sleater-Kinney have only strengthened throughout the years.

Yes, Erase Me also features more singing and less metalcore than has been standard in Underoath's career, but it straddles Sleepwave's experimentations, landing on the catchier side ("Rapture," "Wake Me"), more energetic side ("It Has to Start Somewhere," "Hold Your Breath") or somehow pushing both extremes ("In Motion," "Sink With You").

For a musician who has been leaning on the same style of ambient electronic for years, Colleen bravely reaches for something outside her ethereal comfort zone on Captain of None.

Much like 2017's Ti Amo, Alpha Zulu has a romantic warmth that transcends lyrics, which evade interpretation, often melting into the melody but occasionally snagging the ear with a beautiful turn of phrase.

Raph's lyrics, meanwhile, dig beneath melancholia and insecurity to unearth beauty in the small victories of self-discovery.

Suffice it to say, Zygadlo comfortably defies the sophomore album slump with this one.

Taut and built upon arpeggiated synths coupled with a prominent rhythm section, the album pokes fun at our over-stimulated reality, while commenting on the struggles we face to retain individuality and authenticity.

The nervous, blemished energy of Forth Wanderers is gripping with heaping amounts of charm, bitterness, sarcasm, and unease in the right proportions, making our insecurities stare back at us.

Here, unknowable sounds hover, skitter and undulate against a backdrop of refined, futuristic grooves.