Minor evolutions aside, there's not a whole lot to set 7 apart from the six albums that preceded it, making it easy to see this as just another Beach House album. Don't take them for granted, since it's hard to think of another band that has delivered so reliably for this long.

Now with a larger band, rapid-fire lyrics don't serve the same spatial purpose they did when Graves was stomping out his own drum beat. There's a busy conversational quality to the songwriting that strict economical poetics couldn't achieve. There's not a lot of wordless space on Can't Wake Up.

Cut Worms' music might not be as immediate as Andy Shauf's, or as inventive as Whitney's, but for listeners who miss the time when songwriters wrote actual songs, this album should not be overlooked.

Panic Blooms is a shadowy, leaking sibling, licking its wounds and pulling back from the sunlight. There seem to be fewer entry points here than with other BSMR albums, but there's also a comfort in its unabashed adherence to exploring bad feelings: hearing weirdos call it like they see it, even when the going's gotten rough, offers some strange sense of reprieve.

he only complaint (quibble really), is that a number of the pieces don't have endings. ... Otherwise, this is an enjoyable and important document. One of many for a pioneer we are all grateful to have discovered.

Beerbongs & Bentleys contains banger after banger; it's an incredible drug-induced album.

The Horizon Just Laughed is an album capable of moving listeners figuratively and literally. The pastiche of genres aptly complement and accent the American folk foundation that he's built his style and brand on.

Structural concerns aside, Singularity still finds Hopkins exploring sonic textures as deeply as ever. It's an album that, in its best moments, finds one of electronic music's great minds operating in peak form.

Solo productions add ballast to an already solid outing; Knock Knock deserves your response.

The nervous, blemished energy of Forth Wanderers is gripping with heaping amounts of charm, bitterness, sarcasm, and unease in the right proportions, making our insecurities stare back at us.

Iceage make unpleasant music, but their bland sentimentality is the most disagreeable thing on Beyondless.

Rebound continues her trajectory as an distinctive artist who's ever-skilful in her sonic explorations.

A Girl Cried Red takes you back in time to the nostalgia of your emo days.

The harmonica, piano and clean sounding guitars characterize The Last Man Standing. The smart and witty lyrics adorn the western swing album with an acoustic blues rock and rockabilly shine.

Fans of We Are Scientists will appreciate the new direction in crafting a new upbeat dynamic sound, and for new listeners, Megaplex is the perfect introduction to one of the band's most notable releases to date.

Overall, the trio showcase legend influences in their lines, while still authentically being themselves.

An LP so irresistibly danceable and irrefutably topical that it'll also leave generations of up-and-comers clamouring to team up with Janelle Monáe.

Harris is a sage escort to have along for the ride, and with the spare concrete signifiers and evocative open spaces she provides on Grid of Points, she's crafted a map for the full spectrum of human emotions and experiences.

For a 13-track album, the majority is forgettable and doesn't live up to the colourful elements of Lewis's previous releases. The lack of energy on Caer leaves a longing for more originality and creativity he has once given us.

Twerp Verse is a solid entry that should please fans of Speedy Ortiz and might also gain them some new ones with its hints of pop.

Simply put, cannabis is the medium through which this album should be listened to; otherwise, its greatness will never be revealed to the non-believers. ... When sober, 14 minutes for a song is a little long; stoned, it's not long enough.

Although there are some standouts on the album, like the vocal push-and-pull of "Don't Move Back to L.A.," the soulful "Shelter Song" and the dramatic buildup of "Human Being Song," Sheff sounds rather lost throughout this album, hampered by indecisive arrangements and ambling verses.

Stargate Music is a brilliant addition to the outpouring in the L.A. beat scene, a beautiful amalgamation of raw experimentation and sound fusion that raises this concept album well above others who have come before.

No. 4 proves beyond measure that Christina Vantzou has as much talent and vision as most any of them. Hollywood, this is your wakeup call. Listen to her.

On the rich, rewarding Sparrow, the singer has found the perfect marriage of songs, arrangements and performances. In the process she has also crafted a captivating Southern Gothic country-soul masterpiece, one that can stand proudly next to the timeless works that inspired it.

Your Queen Is A Reptile, is 55 minutes of ecstatic insurgency.

Where some might find their centre in such a locale, the self-imposed echo chamber seems to have exacerbated their worst individual qualities.

The musical depth of the band's quieter writing is what draws the ear; electronics remain subtle, between Tompkins' falsetto and interplay between piano and clean electric guitars. That isn't to say TesseracT abandoned aggression entirely.