Karaoke Angel is a beautiful surprise from Sarlé, whose career as a solo artist has only just begun.

It's on these longer, wide-angle tracks that the album really shines, and fans who thought the stricter pop playbook Gonzalez has been using recently was perhaps too strict should find much to like in these more open-ended pieces. For the rest of us, DSVII should prove a likable enough diversion until the next standard studio release.

Jaime, Howard's first solo album, complements her distinctive croon with R&B, hip-hop and funk sounds, marking an adventurous departure that reveals unseen depths to the vocalist. With some of the most emotive, direct lyrics of her career to date, the dynamic range of her new collaborators — including jazz maestro Robert Glasper — informs the flavour of each track for an eclectic collection stockpiled with loose grooves.

Nine reeks of adolescence — and not in the goofy, humorous way of Blink-182's past, but in a cringe-y attempt at youthful angst. There are no slyly couched bits of wisdom, no life lessons learned between goof-ups and heartbreak, and it's altogether too earnest and self-serious to even be enjoyed as carefree fun. Blink-182 have always been intentionally juvenile, but in growing up and out of punk rock, they've never been more immature.

Breathe is Tiny Moving Parts' best work to date, and if math rock is your thing, it would be a crime to not check it out.

With All My Heroes Are Cornballs, JPEGMAFIA captures the feelings of existing in an era fuelled by mindless scrolling and compulsive tweeting, positioning himself as both a participant and vocal critic of the happenings of the current millennia.

They haven't abandoned their political senses, no, but they have moved into a new gentler phase. The elements that stay the same are their intentionality, their honesty and their vulnerability.

Ma feels a bit like watching the sun slowly set: as it gently dips into the horizon, there are moments where the colours burst and excite, but mostly it's a careful and calm experience.

EarthGang's otherwise lean and careening style has the potential to reach the acclaim earned by their label head J. Cole — even if the stratospheric success of Stankonia remains out of reach for now.

There are mere days until the autumnal equinox, make sure you spend them listening to Lookout Low — the album of the summer you didn't know you were missing — with a loved one.

Despite the disparate styles and messages, there's a seamlessness to the record that can only be credited to Aitchison and frequent collaborator and executive producer A.G. Cook's deft songwriting and production. They've created an Event Pop Record with purpose, pointing the way forward while positioning Aitchison as a pop artist with something to say.

While casual listeners may find this humour flippant, given the topics explored on Miami Memory, closer listens reveal a mature and surprisingly au courant album that grapples with complex social issues in a commendably fearless way.

Corpse Flower has a dynamic sound that is interesting for anyone. The record is another example of the masterful musicianship of Patton and showcases Vannier's capabilities in crafting perfectly balanced pieces of music.

Wrapping The Practice of Love in avant-pop instrumentation, Hval nimbly threads complex sentiments through its prismatic shades of sound.

Overall, the Pixies' seventh album is palatable — the songs are generally likeable — but it lacks excitement.

House of Sugar steps into volatile, subterranean moods not quite grounded in reality, flitting towards soupy daydreams and murky fantasy worlds. Giannascoli's creativity is endless and as he continues his never-ending output of mysteriously disorienting and strangely familiar songs, he's becoming stronger and weirder with every album.

As far as comeback albums go, May the Lord Watch is resurgence done right. But if you're new to the North Carolina duo, listen to their older work first for context.

The juxtaposition of her soft yet strong vocals draws you into her ghostly world, both dark and thrilling. Birth of Violence is a work of art that will please old fans and draw in new listeners too.

Musically, Tool have taken the best of Lateralus's dynamism and the heaviness of 10,000 Days to explore the middle ground with great length on Fear Inoculum. Those who stuck it out through the decade-plus wait won't mind hanging around a little longer until the album's close.

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.

The result is a listening experience that demonstrates a capacity for intimacy, but more often acts as an intermission or interruption to an otherwise steady pace.

If Soft Landing doesn't make you feel good inside, all the drugs in the world won't help you.

The album is at its best when the Highwomen subvert country tropes.

On the whole, via his work and commentary, Iggy Pop has pushed our world to think and act differently, and he brings that same mission of liberation to himself on Free.

Something Like a War feels ambitious and searching, navigating the complex experiences of Bainbridge and their collaborators.

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.

At the Party is lusher and more delicate than its grungy predecessor, Mother of My Children, but no less powerful. Paul's latest is a warm and appreciative ode to the joys of passing the time with people you love.

Green's latest effort is a pleasant and sometimes surprising record. Yet, the album's constant adherence an identikit version of the '60s crooners struggles to land any outstanding tracks.