It is a good first showing, especially given the conception of many vis-à-vis the musical talents of one hit wonders. But it does have the feel of a first album, in that Sheck seems to still be looking for his style and sound.

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.

When compared to last year's Music Is, it's nice to hear Frisell in a live setting and with a solid partner: as result, it's more spontaneous, less polished and more engaging.

The Best of Luck Club may lack some of the whimsy that got her noticed, but with this more mature turn, Lahey has expressed some lyrical depth that wasn't quite there the first time around.

The Vancouver duo's captivating moments easily outnumber the few duller ones. On Lightning Dust's fourth studio album, Amber Webber's beautifully haunting voice brings hope to dark places, and following it feels like being guided to the light at the end of the tunnel.

Whether you can consider this old-school, new-school, or somewhere in between scarcely matters. What we have here is yet another brain-melting album from an artist who refuses to stand still.

Scis demonstrates that, 27 years into his recording career, Markus Popp is still managing to come off forward-thinking and forward-sounding.

Changes isn't the most complex album King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard have ever made, but it's been gestating in the backs of the member's minds for years, and feels oddly representative of everything they do well. Whether you're a true Gizz-head or just dipping your toes into their psychedelic swamp for the first time, it's worth a listen.

A decade after "Take Me to Church," Unreal Unearth's muscular production and defined vision proves Hozier's maturity as an artist, complete with his usual employment of religious imagery. He doesn't shy away from the darkest parts of the human condition, but he isn't afraid of having a little existential fun either.

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.

If you're a long-time listener, or someone that was tuned in to AM, you might be prepared to change the dial. But before you write this off as exhausting or pretentious self-indulgence, give it a listen or two. Peruse the lyrics, dissect them and have a laugh. Commitment isn't as scary as you think.

While Bunny is fairly consistent across the board, there isn't much that sticks out here.

Deer Tick are so wonderfully straightforward and stripped of all self-importance that Deer Tick Vol. 1 and Vol. 2 manage to make up for lost time without compromising any of the acute writing or boisterous energy the band are known for. The records aren't epic returns to form that beg to be lauded; rather, they feel like four guys remembering how much fun it is to make good music.

There's something pure about Tacocat, which comes across throughout Lost Time. The band describe themselves as being best friends, and this sense of joy and excitement is palpable throughout.

The Lemon Twigs almost always use the kitchen sink approach on Do Hollywood, and it's pretty effective, too--there's nary a dull moment.

Ruminations isn't exactly a stunner--it's too low-key for that--but as a humble mood-piece, it's an engrossing listen. Its best moments are also its darkest ones.

On Hormone Lemonade, Cavern of Anti-Matter have created an inventive piece of art that could have benefited from a bit of self-editing and a some of that old style vision.

If you're a big fan of the band, or if you have been feeling nostalgic for the Reverend, check it out.

Darkness and Light comes off balanced and bursting with humility knowing and being what it is--mainstream soul framed by pop parameters.

It's possible to detect elements of jazz, '70s soul, hip-hop and electronica in McFerrin's heliocentric mix, but through his intentional blurring of the boundaries, he underlines his mastery of and ultimate disregard for genre categories.

Pickpocket's Locket stands as some of Mercer's most urgent and terse work to date.

Frankie Cosmos continues to succeed at condensing the task of processing feelings down into short minute-ish long songs. The pace of the album is set at a brisk run, but it never gets sweaty, so you'd never notice how quick it is — or how hard it's working. Close It Quietly is composed and meticulous in flow, flawlessly delivering reserved passion.

Fine Line is proof that Harry Styles has grown as an artist since his solo debut. He hasn't reached his full potential, but he's certainly well on his way.

Some may chide Farrar for playing it safe on Honky Tonk, but in nearly every respect this album sounds as if Farrar has finally arrived at an artistic place he's always longed to find.

These rapid shifts and experimental flourishes can make for a jarring listen, but they also keep Love Songs For Robots unpredictable and exciting.

Ology's idiosyncrasies and emotional exhibitionism make for a genuinely honest, captivating listen.

This isn't an album of contrasts but a vibe to get immersed in, and it's a welcome reminder of what once made Rose one of the key figures in indie rock.

O'Brien manages to inhale stuffy themes of love and heartache and exhale fresh retellings.