Guilty of Everything is thus an emotional affair, but it's balanced by moments of grandness.

Dollars to donuts, there's not one song or style here that "Weird Al" doesn't enhance with his sly social commentary or absurdity. All hail the weird king.

Although somewhat less accessible than Hairless Toys, Take Her Up to Monto sees Murphy coming in to her own as a solo artist.

Moving forward from that meandering pace [on 2016's Thought Rock Fish Scale], I'm Bad Now finds Nap Eyes picking up their feet a bit, without sacrificing the subtle psychedelia that makes their songs so enticing.

As with so much of Jurado's work, In the Shape of a Storm is simple in its construction, but panoramic in its impact.

Recorded mostly live off the floor, and full of loose, garage rock accents and playfully shambling flourishes, everything about Most Messed Up feels exquisitely messy.

There are a few new sounds here — prominent vocal harmonies in the chorus of the opening title track, electronic snare hits and a soft synth hum on the saccharine "Looking for a Vein" — but for the most part, this is familiar DMB.

It's an excellent record--one that sounds both classic and unmistakably contemporary--but, for the most part, it still sounds like the meeting of two disparate halves.

The formula certainly has its merits though, and Bicep bring them to the fore better than most on Isles, and all with an appealingly late-night, cosmopolitan flair, where ghostly fragments of Hindi, Turkish pop or Bulgarian choirs are just as likely to hover among the neon synths as the usual breathy trance sirens. It gives the album a bustling, urban energy that very much works in its favour, even if its style might slightly outweigh its substance sometimes.

King Krule is an artist moving a mile a minute, and 6 Feet Beneath the Moon is just the beginning of what will be an amazing career to follow.

The result is a most welcome and simply terrific record from a perennially underrated band.

All the Ways You Let me Down is a charming record with plenty to like, just not enough to love.

Pax Americana has covered a fair amount of stylistic ground, and while a couple of tracks may prompt a meaningful glance at their runtimes, this is a strong and varied album overall.

You can't exactly say Sepultura are back. They never went anywhere in the first place. But they've (rather amazingly) broken new ground on Quadra. Make sure to check it out.

The Main Thing is a warm, inviting record that slots nicely into the band's catalogue, and should reward fans of the Real Estate's understated yet powerful songwriting.

The record is comfortably balanced between different periods of Shepherd's work, derailing expectation surrounding followups, all while still obfuscating the line between analog and digital. For Floating Points, it's business as usual.

It's a globetrotting affair: the wah-wah brass and dhol drums of "Mitote" make for a savoury blend, the Indigenous chants and percussion reverberate in title track "All My Relations," the mid-'70s Stevie Wonder/Herbie Hancock-styled funk of "Mescalero" hits the spiritual spot, while the smooth sax of "Seyewailo" offer up a sonic take on bliss.

Overall, From Capelton Hill is a brilliant reminder that it's totally fine to rely on your strengths and build on them to produce beautiful music without having to constantly reach for new tricks.

At turns noisy, wistful and dark, The Terror is a beguiling record that's as beautiful as it is frightening.

It's these frenzied, sharp-turn transitions are what make this band feel so vital, so alive and so different.

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.

Will is a beautifully written work of art that finds Barwick reaching out to a larger audience, but completely on her own terms.

Just as prolific in death as they were in life (perhaps even more so), with Temporal, Isis continue to haunt their career like fretful ghosts.

Hard Boiled Soft Boiled hits all the right notes while whetting the appetite for whatever Odonis Odonis have in store next. For now, you'd be hard pressed to imagine a better follow up to the band's debut.

Once fast and abrasive, Wand are softer and more thoughtful on Laughing Matter; the fuzz and distortion are no longer a main feature, but rather tools used to add layers of texture and sound alongside rhythmic guitar and evocative keys.

Although ultimately underwhelming, Moon Duo still create an enjoyable easy-listening psychedelic atmosphere in Stars Are the Light. It might not be the kind of album you can become deeply attached to, but would never fail to please as background music.

It owes something to the great songwriters and studio tones of the 1970s, but it's also strikingly timeless and authentic rock music, helmed by an underground Renaissance man.

Cat Power Sings Dylan: The 1966 Royal Albert Hall Concert does exactly what it says on the tin, but in the process adds another story to Dylan's tower of song, and showcases Marshall as devotee, student and messenger.