Zomby changes style a frustrating amount, and all of it crawls along at a painstaking speed. He's gone for something different here, which is commendable, but the end product, sadly, comes off more pretentious than deep.

Cooper seems to have found just the right balance of electronic elements and traditional instrumentation for this album, as well.

A fascinating, affecting statement from a musician firmly in control of her artistry.

Staples approaches the latest chapters of his story on Prima Donna in bleak fashion, his pen and delivery both as sharp as ever.

When Anything But Words ups the pace, it proves to be one of the finest records of the year.

While they exceed expectations on these non-assisted tracks, De La Soul also more than hold their own against their superstar guests.

It would be unwise to view Amnesty (I) as the rebirth of Crystal Castles; it's simply the next step in the band's evolution, a welcome return.

There are few surprises in Roosevelt's brand of dance music, but that seems decidedly the point; the synapses it triggers feel like the most welcomingly comfortable sort of sparks, firing on familiar-but-welcome cylinders.

At times, the simplicity of the melodies (the synths at times sound like readymade ones you'd find on a Yamaha keyboard) and decidedly uncomplicated drum machine beats may leave the listener wanting more, but they play into the notion of these characters being pathetic, exhausted and disappointed so well that there really isn't a need for much more.

One of the best things about the Album Leaf is the mental imagery that comes naturally with the music, and Between Waves provides a fresh canvas.

Mangy Love sounds like a collaborative affair from an artist who has the keen ability to keep his musical identity sounding completely idiosyncratic.

Vibrant, it colours outside the lines. Poignant, it's transparent with altering modes of bravado, vulnerability and desperation. It is, thoroughly, a Frank Ocean album, yearning for perfection, sating the audience's hunger for dynamism, yet with the persistent feeling that the artist feels it's all a failure.

While PND's production is typically on point, his songwriting and vocal skills are still evolving.

Pure & Simple is at best a middle shelf release in Parton's discography.

Animal Races is an homage to a bygone era, and a terrific one at that, so while it's far more influenced than it could ever be influential, it does have the potential to inspire sentimentality among those who lived through the era to which it devotes itself.

Golden Sings That Have Been Sung is a personal best for Walker, innovation for the genre and in general, just a damn good listen.

With 12 tracks and a run time of just 30 minutes, much of Tobacco's fourth solo LP almost sounds incomplete at times, but Fec somehow makes it work to his advantage.

Real, Loveless's confident and poppy fourth album, builds on what Loveless and her band were doing on 2014's grittier Somewhere Else.

At times, At Swim feels like it drifts aimlessly. ... Nevertheless, At Swim is like a dream you won't want to wake up from.

Callus is a harrowing experience, not for the faint of heart. It's more of a preach than a rap, at times more post-rock than hip-hop, the overall experience something akin to hearing slam poetry at knifepoint.

If you want to just chill at home in the afternoon, give this beauty a spin. Those wanting a reinvented wheel, look elsewhere.

A rarely relenting party with more substance than the last.

Between Ant's eclectic, subtle production and Slug's equally nuanced lyricism, Fishing Blues stands out as one of the best hip-hop LPs of the year thus far.

Time has been kind to Thee Oh Sees, who remain proper royalty in the garage rock universe and manage to shape-shift without losing their boisterous and impactful delivery.

This is feel-good music. On Home Wrecking Years, Canning has developed a sound that is genuine, heartfelt and liberating.

Fans of surrealist, lo-fi beats and the 1980s will finds Edwards' beach worth visiting.

Wild Beasts have always been strong performers, but only when seemingly unaware; by tackling the trope of hubris-laden bro rockers, Boy King finds them becoming the butt of their own jokes, with little more than mindless dance tracks to show for it.

Man Machine Poem is the Tragically Hip's most cohesive release since at least Music @ Work.