Even though there's a dramatic shift thematically, Collett maintains his signature sound of acoustic slow jams and the occasional up-tempo number.

Boniface is youth music, both in its vibrant shimmer and its wide-eyed, confessional storytelling, verging on embarrassing but typically landing somewhere raw and urgent.

Banks has managed to pull off a minor miracle, as Broke With Expensive Taste is an artistic success as well as a strategic one.

Never too bitter or too sweet, these songs are bursting at the seams with casual urgency, an intoxicating counterpoint to the songs' melancholy.

Part one of Sumney's smart double feature proves that art is everywhere — even in the drab hues that exist between extremes.

Though it lacks the alien opalescence of Charli's best record, how i'm feeling now contains a different sort of thrilling delirium. It's fun and sometimes silly, made on the fly and under a tight deadline. But it's desperate too — a frenzied call for release, an ode to the love that keeps us going, and further proof that no other pop artist today can make the digital sound so disarmingly human.

Mythopoetics may be Rose's most approachable album, but that just means that the world has finally caught up with Half Waif's wide-lens world.

It's singular, creative work with pure intent; that makes Girlpool an important band, and it makes Powerplant an authentic, beautiful, effective record.

Z is a quality beginning for a beguiling new artist with a fresh futurist sound.

Between its instrumental interplay and Gendron's singing and structural vision, it's a deep and gorgeous classic that moves her into the pantheon of our greatest living songwriters.

Currents is melodic, pretty, but there's a pervasive sense of melancholy here; each uplifting track feels as though it's masking sorrow with shimmering synth, a teaspoon of sugar to help the medicine down.

This is a winner, another great release from a band that, really, has no problem delivering great albums. Shape Shift with Me occupies a perfect middle ground between their last two discs, and that's a very special, and unique, place to be.

Production and keys aside, Turkey isn't much of a departure for Krol, but it may finally get him the recognition he deserves on the higher-profile Merge Records.

Mixed with poppy tracks like "Top of the World," "Pressure" and Michael Jackson meets Hall and Oates ditty "Ain't No Hat 4 That," it's evident that Thicke has created his most fun and mainstream-friendly project yet.

Patient listening toward the end of Pagans is absolutely rewarded.

Over 11 tracks and 50 minutes, the Hamilton duo create compact and unhurried works that reflect the musical simplicity and approachable feel found on their 2004 debut, Last Exit.

No matter how many times Dee Dee alludes to heartbreak and ritualistic evil, Too True is a joyful career pinnacle.

Island represents a tender, more melancholic chapter in Pallett's repertoire, but one that offers a refined perspective.

Contradictions and duplicities abound. But Webster is not putting us on. For all of its facades, Atlanta Millionaires Club is a work of arresting candour.

Lanza zooms between feelings and situations so nimbly that every time you revisit All the Time and the accompanying artwork, it's just as easy to imagine a freewheeling Lanza doing gleeful donuts in that parking lot as it is to envision her having a breakdown behind the wheel.

Curry has come a long way since he blew up and has fully solidified his place in the game. If ZUU isn't in your rotation, you're sleeping.

Skelethon is funky, freaky and heavy on the drums.

It is great to see Caroline Polachek giving a go at being an independent pop artist, and this album makes it feasible that she one day becomes a household name in the genre.

Once again, Lee Gamble has managed to produce an effort right in PAN's wheelhouse, pairing idiosyncratic experimentalism with dance floor styling, and it totally works.

It's tempting to imagine what it might sound like if Cloud Nothings took these experiments further and gave their sound a more radical reinvention. As it is, The Shadow I Remember perfectly encapsulates everything the band do so well, and hints at what might be to come.

With each song finely crafted and composed, Nervous is an exploration of sonic tension that ultimately wrings beauty from an undesirable situation.

The tuneless guitar twang that's used throughout the movie [A Scanner Darkly] and the little scraps of Radiohead tracks on offer have nothing on New Path though. All we need now is some devoted fan with editing skills to paste in the soundtrack that the movie deserves

Kommunity Service manages to deliver on almost every front. It's an impressive collaborative effort from two of California's brightest stars, yet another solid release in Mozzy's rapidly expanding catalogue and a much-needed return to form for YG following a few subpar releases.