Dark and syrupy in tone, with just the right amount of haze, as if from sacred smoke, Sister is a fine addition to the witchy, ritualistic hard rock that's leaving an ever-darker mark on aggressive music.

Cogent and catchy all at once, I can feel you creep into my private life shows that, even amid doubt and distress, Tune-Yards can find a new way forward.

Bloom leans heavily on that push-and-pull dynamic and the results are hugely effective, affecting and ultimately beautiful.

Though it might seem strange that Oldham recorded the first major tribute to Haggard, the careful and well-thought-out working through of the master's themes makes deliberate sense.

The Bride is not only a journey for Natasha and the characters she has created--as with all great albums, listeners, too, will be met with a sea of contemplation.

It's a bleak listen, but there's something comforting about hearing three musicians playing punishing music as a complete unit, knowing there are few that could do it like them.

It's a rare record that serves as an entry point for newcomers while rewarding old fans who've stuck by them since the beginning.

Tooth demonstrates Raime as multi-dimensional musicians, even if you have to travel through a black hole to get to those dimensions.

Their musicianship and unflinching humour in the face of potentially bleak topics makes this album a distinct piece and a joy to listen to.

The album is riddled with feeling, and there is an adamant sense of joy.

As a rock and roll journeyman, Lanegan's interesting direction on Phantom Radio is commendable even if it is not entirely magnetic.

This is, it's apparent, an album of ideas and feelings that were dying to come out, and Lisa-Kaindé and Naomi have expressed them with beauty and technical expertise beyond their 20 years.

Cozy Tapes skips any syrupy clichés and eschews morbid references to the afterlife, celebrating Yams' life rather than mourning his death. A$AP Mob stay true to the sound Yams helped to cultivate, and in doing so, keep his spirit very much alive.

The Heart is a Monster doesn't quite leave the impression mid-'90s Failure did, but despite less experimental approach and cleaner digital production, it's still a compelling listen.

While their first record was a blur of contorted thrash tracks rarely surpassing the one-minute mark, there's a newly streamlined focus to A New Wave of Violence that's substantially more brutalizing.

There are no interludes or breaks, a consistency that is both the band's greatest strength and only weakness.

Radio Silence is a jazzy, soulful call to action, a think-piece and a middle-finger to the trolls who claim he fell off; you can still find his name "in the middle of equality."

Scott Walker is one of the true geniuses of modern music and the treasures are as rich as ever for those prepared to go the distance.

Occasionally, there are times when you wish Chastity Belt would shed their melancholic coil and get a little louder; interrupt their carefully considered listlessness with an impassioned outburst. But they prefer to simmer in their milieu, aware of the effect that quiet contemplation has in moving their message forward.

Although their sound has been copied Ad infinitum, with Koloss, Meshuggah prove that they still do it best.

Let's Cry and Do Pushups at the Same Time seems to be Wyatt's way of reconciling his vast repertoire of influences and his many interests into one concise package, and on that idea alone, the album is a success.

Like past releases, [4Eva N A Day] breathes a warm, nostalgic haze steeped in Southern soul and the country rap of UGK and Outkast.

An album that's good, but hard to get excited over.

There are some truly enjoyable moments on Calexico's latest--but they're vastly overshadowed by at turns annoying or just boring tracks, bogged down in an overly long record.

Steve Earle doesn't make the same kind of hi-test outlaw country he used to, but The Low Highway shows that his swagger hasn't completely disappeared.

All of this freedom has culminated in a stellar debut full-length for Arts & Crafts.

1973-1980 is a fitting, touching and extensive tribute to one of Africa's greatest musicians.

Drawing as much from their past as well as their present, Mastodon refuse to go extinct just shy of two decades of music-making. Emperor of Sand is at once emotionally powerful and musically arresting.