Feel Your Feelings Fool! is an energetic, empowering romp of a debut that would feel more rebellious if not for the overly safe production.

Shimmery background countermelodies of organ and mandolin bring a slightly psychedelic, dreamy sense of indie rock to an album that alternately evokes both '80s Los Angeles and '90s Scotland.

Like her LP, ANOHNI's PARADISE is a poignant, smouldering reflection of society's current, crucial conversations.

Recorded with Mike Sapone of both Brand New and Taking Back Sunday fame, the album has a lot in common with the former's Deja Entendu. It's also another fierce entry in the more recent catalogue of young and earnest bands like the Hotelier and Modern Baseball who are pushing a similar message of hope in the midst of struggle.

With a total of 17 songs and a runtime of over an hour, Salutations is Oberst's most ambitious album since his 2002 Bright Eyes masterpiece Lifted, and the best instalment in his solo discography.

With their latest release, Depeche Mode prove they have both the musical depth and strength of conviction to outlast us all.

It has an honesty to it; a realness.

It's a lack of originality that turns the sound stale rather quickly.

They've returned with a refocused sound closer to '70s singer-songwriter fare from Carole King and Fleetwood Mac, a sound that supports Moore's thoughtful lyrics.

Reassemblage is compelling, sure, but perhaps only for those who have the patience or curiosity for an exploration of the sonic predecessors of electronica.

High Plains perfectly capture the rugged and sprawling Midwest, but more impressively, an intangible mood and state of mind. A record like this is a rare achievement.

Although the core songwriting is never quite as captivating and merciful as it was on previous albums, Heartworms nonetheless has an adventurous outer shell, and the Shins seem to revel in the newfound space inside of it.

There's always more to Marling than the uninitiated might hear at first, and Semper Femina is yet another astounding testament to her talent and the multitudes therein.

Providence finds Fake reinvigorated, having worked through writer's block to find inspiration in a virtual analog synth from the mid '90s, the Korg Prophecy. He mined all the gold he could from that Korg to make Providence.

Everybody Works suffers when it loses this eloquence. ... But the stunning closer, "For Light," more than redeems any shortcomings, pairing weary lyrics with mournful acoustic guitar and cementing Duterte's talents both as a songwriter and a producer.

Godless Prophets & the Migrant Flora is the best Darkest Hour since those two albums, and positions the band well to lead the melodeath-inflected metalcore rebirth that, if the revival of its more chaotic precursor is any indication, might be just around the corner.

June is no ingénue or girl-done-wrong; her persona as a creator is both spellbinding and well versed in the ways of the world. This is the singer-songwriter as wise woman, as wickedly sharp village witch.

These are not new themes, but Segarra's songs are a complex thicket of emotions, made traversable by her ability to craft a maxim, a hook and a bridge to a chorus.

What lingers, along with the musical brilliance and uncharacteristic openness of his 50 Song Memoir, is Merritt's humour; his distinctive baritone delivering countless witty sardonic kernels, sometimes assisted by a well-timed dramatic pause, all wrapped up in catchy, unforgettable songs.

This oscillation between seemingly lighter fare and rich, full-bodied tracks ("Hope" and "A Thousand Skies Under Cepheus' Erudite Eyes," for example) is jarring at first, especially in lieu of any buffer or transition, but ultimately establishes itself as a winning characteristic of A Thousand Skies.

True to its name, Uyai is also a glorious, world-conscious party. Beautiful indeed.

With such a wealth of exposure in his musical upbringing, it's no surprise that this mix boasts the instrumental range that it does, not to mention such a precise and intuitively executed pace.

Sensorimotor as a whole isn't as strong as Lusine's previous efforts for Ghostly International.

Windy City isn't a revolutionary album, or even the most adventurous release in Krauss's deep, rich catalogue, but it's a welcome reminder that Krauss remains a song interpreter with few--if any--peers in Nashville.

The Iceberg ultimately delivers a rich yet digestible musical main course worth more than one helping. If you've been sleeping on Odd, it's time to wake up.

[An] explosive and emotional debut.

Moh Lhean is a stellar album that serves as a portrait of the artist as a not-quite-so-young man who's still finding weird new ways to pose age-old questions.

On Last Place, the band returns to the same well again, and while there is enough here to sustain some nostalgia, that well seems drier than ever before.