Some of album's more pedestrian elements slide by — bouncy, sing-song verses that Pitts can obviously write in his sleep and which come off as a bit insubstantial sometimes, the whole thing threatening to blow away with the faintest breeze. Carefree Theatre is certainly pleasant enough to get swept up in however, and a good capstone to a decade's work.

This is the closest thing you'll get to an aural Scandinavian spa.

While the album's emergence is wholly indicative of frontman Joseph Mount's supposed "need to feed his children," in Metronomy Forever, the band have nonetheless blessed the world with at least a handful of tracks worthy of even the snobbiest dance floors.

Yes, on the surface Feels Like Home is a makeover aimed at the parents of every Taylor Swift fan, but the essence of Crow's sound remains intact, and irresistible.

While Lynn's aesthetic development occasionally results in the project reaching pop-heights not in its reach before, it also blurs the line between this and Fohr's other projects.

All Visible Objects is a welcome addition and one that offers a little bit of everything to everyone.

Invitation can be a tough record to puncture. The shadowy soundscapes--thick layers of keys and strings with, oftentimes, thunderous percussion additions-- sometimes overpower Broderick's soft vocals.

The record does play a bit like a return trip through familiar terrain, but for the most part, Love You to Death finds Tegan and Sara offering another solid soundtrack for summer romances and road-trips alike.

Despite the underwhelming musicality of Total Freedom, many of these songs still pack some undeniable emotional force, especially the more joyful tracks like "Who Rescued Who" — a charming ode from Edwards to her dog. In her songcraft, Edwards remains dependable and enjoyable.

On Dawnbreaker, ten tracks elegantly come together to tell the story of a person at the crossroads of their life, and a quiet struggle towards contentment.

Simply put, Bully knows how to make music for feeling young and utterly confused, sometimes hopeless, and ultimately, completely alive.

GØGGS is great, but if this band plans on growing and not just putting out another "let's bring back '80s punk, shall we?" record (not that there's anything wrong with that), they'll have to get a little weirder and wilder on their next release.

For those not moved by this more unhinged side of the band, MYBH may prove disappointing. ... Still, MYBH makes the case that the field recording that plays out album closer "Laughter and Silence" is now as integral a part of the Sumac sound as any other. If you're willing to consider a musical choice like that to be just as "heavy" as a lurching dirge or a colossal chug, then May You Be Held will prove a rewarding and expansive listen.

The clashing of stoner and smart post-hardcore works wonders, while the crashing, booming production keeps things just clean enough for an extremely satisfying listen.

Although many tribute albums have a tendency to come across as disposable, Red Hot + Fela stands with the best Red Hot has to offer.

Musically, this might not be post-anything, but it is a postscript to an already impressive musical résumé.

The Olympians don't break the mould here, but they deliver robust soul with tight compositions, florid instrumentation and that trademark Daptone sound that feels authentic and earned.

I Predict a Graceful Expulsion is not the great record some would have you believe it is, but it is a very good one.

If nothing else, White Reaper Does it Again offers up a heady, enjoyable dose of nostalgia.

Letters Home gives something to write home about, bringing to mind Have Heart's swansong, Songs to Scream at the Sun, while simultaneously containing Defeater's best material to date.

Weber's creative theoretical and instrumental approach is unique, but the abrasive and connotative tonal qualities of the carillon often overshadow the colourful subtleties of the finer details of his delicate arrangements.

Anything in Return functions as an all-in-one summary of Bundick's talents, giving the impression of a maturing songwriter who has found his wheelhouse.

Whether or not this search is of genuine desire or some gesture toward a gaudy ecclesiastic aesthetic, Hayter's most recent attempt at salvation manifests in arguably the most afflicted and disconcerting peak into her head and heart yet.

While Brain Candy does lose creative steam towards the back end, there's still plenty here on offer for those looking for a reprieve from the oppressive reality of day-to-day life in 2020.

A fine balance of naiveté and stirring wisdom.

Rubberband has been executed with genuine respect for the artist. There's enough greatness here to justify the effort. Even if we hope this doesn't launch a new kind of re-bop craze, it's still great to press play on another Miles Davis album.

If the Muffs were a drink they'd be cream soda, and while I'd typically prefer it spiked, that would be contrary to the point; the band's aim is to deliver a simple, somewhat fizzy sound marked by prominent vocal melodies and choppy yet clean chords.

The lyrics are still full of cutting observations and social critiques (take the anti-capitalism slant of "Corporate Elect," for example), but the urgency driving 2010's Absolute Dissent has shifted into something more akin to a sense of anticipation.