Edkins' tunes are virtually indestructible, which means that you could arrange them in almost any pop style with almost any affectation and they would still sparkle. But they are especially effective in this setting because of Edkins' obvious love of power pop.

"I'm People" is honest and so accessible that it seems as if the storytelling MC Taylor is engaging a single listener, both seated in a cozy room.

The duo’s employment of a more ambient soundscape pairs beautifully with the raw, often hard-to-hear emotional songwriting. Not that Lost Cause Lover Fool doesn’t retain the welcoming warmth of previous Milk Carton Kids’ outings, but this is a particularly vulnerable side of the duo. There is longing in every moment of this LP that forces the listener to sit in the uncomfortable truths detailed in these songs.

A bare quaver and a patch of rough grit here and there are the only signs you’re listening to an octogenarian. The grit actually gives Starr’s voice some character, especially alongside Tuttle on the heartbreaker “She’s Gone” or the sublime duet “You and I (Wave of Love).”

At the same time, that wide scope can work against the album’s cohesion. Some of the transitions feel abrupt, particularly in the middle run, and the pacing can be uneven as a result. But the trade-off is that the record rarely drags and creates a sense of anticipation for what is coming next.

While tunes like the shifting/warbling “Slow” are trippy, the band seems more comfortable with tracks like the synth-led off-kilter R&B of “Hit the Ground” and the 50’s rocking, “In the Dead Mall”, which gets its kicks by shoplifting. A few of the more straightforward tunes turn out to be album highlights.

Engines of Demolition shows that Black Label Society hasn’t lost a step over the last 28 years. It’s uncompromisingly heavy while doling out hard rock hooks and introspective meditations on mortality.

Most of the madcap antics work, while other moments are exciting failures. While it’s not an easy album to digest, it’s fun for those who enjoy the experimental process.

The songs are carefully constructed but never overworked, and the production keeps things loose enough to feel personal. After years of contributing to other artists’ records, this debut makes a convincing case that Morgan Nagler’s own voice deserves just as much attention.

The Format emerges from their dormant state with an eleven-song LP that not only reintroduces the duo as forward-thinking pop mainstays but also all-around daring musicians.

Whether Tedeschi Trucks Band has truly entered a broader, more mainstream phase will become clearer with future releases, but Future Soul certainly points in that direction. Regardless, it’s a standout album that only grows richer and more rewarding with each listen.

The result is a solo album that feels both intimate and essential, a reminder that his understated approach remains as powerful as ever. It stands among the most affecting entries in his already remarkable catalog.

Featuring a formidable and typically eclectic tracklist that showcases Bruce’s innovative and forward-thinking compositional and instrumental strengths, Indigo Park stands as one of Mr. Hornsby’s most inspiring efforts in years.

Sunn O)))’s sound is clearly not for everyone as the drone, feedback levels and repetition is an acquired taste, but for fans of this goosebump raising style, this self-titled effort is a welcomed return, going back to the duo’s roots in confident fashion.

Thundercat surfaces with another wholeheartedly relatable and sonically mesmerizing LP. The artist’s fifth studio LP, Distracted, is an organically stunning and stubbornly present new chapter to Thundercat’s autobiographical discography, one that is both a poetic snapshot of the artist’s perspective and another refreshing take on Thundercat’s singular sound.

13 spell-binding, genre-pushing tracks. .... Atlanta is the mesmerizing, psychedelic outing we all hoped it would be, and then some.

Against the Dying of the Light is an admirable work whose musicianship in the telling far outshines what is ultimately told and creates many beautiful moments of reflection.

These songs manage to uphold expectations while taking baby steps towards something the duo can call their own. The tracklist comes together like a long DJ set, ensuring bodies are moving all around while painstakingly crafting a consistency that is noticeable from the jump.

Ricochet is an irresistible album full of simple but effective song-craft decisions that add up to a next-level moment for the artist.

Flea’s mission for Honora was simple: create something that feels both natural and impressive, something the listener can take with them throughout their day, and he achieved that, and more.

Little adds light Caribbean flair to the poppy “Whip The Wind”, but the love song runs on too long, as does the retro soul of “Cherry” and the warbling get down jam “Bottomless”; however, Little’s vocals are always soulful. Things improve when Little moves to more expansive offerings.

If you are unfamiliar with the band’s music, this release may be the perfect place to start.

Irreversible builds on that foundation of classic New Wave and modern indie pop to create a sound that feels both timeless and distinctly their own.

The difference to these ears between Happiness Bastards and A Pound Of Feathers is a clear, harder edge, and more importantly, the Robinsons smell success and are fully invested in the band. That hunger is palpable as the heavy songs throughout A Pound Of Feathers kick down doors announcing The Black Crowes are fully back.

Angel Du$t miraculously showcased their maturity while keeping a keen eye on the elements that make them such a unique voice, all while writing incredibly moving songs.

The dynamic and thought-provoking tracklist is just as restless as the lyrics Puscifer wrote for Normal Isn’t, creating a marriage between the ethereal and reality.

The multi-Grammy Award winner deserves to be proud of such deeply personal, readily identifiable work as Side-Eye III+.

What a short history of decay lacks in consistency, it makes up for with unapologetic, poetic displays of the many sides of Palermo as a writer and producer.

Throughout these eleven spellbinding performances, Buck Meek emerges with the most assured and innovative music of his solo career, skyrocketing his artistry to new heights through raw, genre-defying folk music that touches the heart and shocks the brain.

In My Dreams proves that subtlety, judicious use of space, and generous, trusted sharing can deliver a quietly gorgeous soundscape. Frisell harnesses all his trademark attributes into one, evocative declarative statement.

The Mountain successfully captures Gorillaz’ individuality without repeating it, pushing the band even further into this new era of experimentation with some of their most daring yet honed music in years.

The band leans into what they do best — swelling ballads, earnest confessionals, and gratifying harmonies — and as a result, the album feels less like a reinvention than a reaffirmation of what they do best.

Lyrically, it’s not deep — focusing on living life with its ups and downs while finding time to enjoy the in-betweens — but it’s undeniably fun. .... It’s the quieter moments on The Dreamin’ Kind—such as “Stealin’ Time,” “Rickety Ol’ Bridge,” and “Dance On Thru”—that feel slightly out of place here. The album closes with “Engine 99,” a song that best ties together the quieter moments with the new rock-focused tracks.

Any topic Scott touches across the album (sexuality, religion, oppression, et al), she does so with bold self-confidence and a sharp pen.

On its own terms, as a soft, singer-songwriter album, Weapons of Beauty is a showcase of deft storytelling from a singer with a captivating voice.

At its best, the music accentuates the songs’ difficult subject matter. At other times, it becomes monotonous, with the immersive layers distracting and turning into a wash of indistinguishable noise.

Joyce Manor continues playing to their strengths with I Used To Go To This Bar, going big with microdosed strong songs that blast on by.

Tracked largely in analog, Dylan-style, and featuring L.A. players like Amy Aileen Wood (Fiona Apple) and Wayne Whitaker, For the First Time, Again sounds richly vintage. Though nearly flawless, its loose approach leaves open the question of how Tyler might sound in a more modern, ambitious setting.

This lineup offers great potential for the provocative mix of musical personalities, and sure enough, sparks fly from the get-go on “Opal.” .... The very delicate balance the four employ actually elevates their imaginative interplay. In letting his comrades dominate on “Talking Drum,” for instance.

Mustaine and Mäntysaari tear through complex, heavy riffs and blistering solos with speed and precision. .... While the album may not reach the level of the band’s first six albums, it’s a fitting farewell for Mustaine, with enough heavy riffing and histrionic shredding to make those last notes memorable.

Fearn delivers music back to him that touches on a host of genres, including post-punk, warped electropop, bizarre dub, and minimalist new wave, repeating beats and slowly adding instrumentation to keep things from becoming dull. More than in past records, the songs take time to stretch out, as the duo pulls them along and the words.

Though the album sounds remarkably fresh, it also has that vintage sheen of albums from yesteryear – a dozen songs, each only three-four minutes long, comprising a digestible, head bobbing, enjoyable 40 minutes.

While it is stripped down in terms of personnel, there are plenty of sonic layers at play, resulting in her most sonically adventurous effort to date.

Overall, the band sounds self-assured as they broaden their horizons without alienating their core fans. Secret Love is a gorgeously produced record that sounds vibrant, wandering, engaged, and slightly funky as Dry Cleaning continues to broaden their post-punk scope.

After all the snark, self-effacement, and emotional guardedness that precede it, “All I’ve Got” lands with a genuine tenderness that makes the album feel emotionally honest.

Fans of Mr. Bungle and Patton’s wilder/heavier tendencies may not find a lot here, as the project skews more towards the Avett Brothers side of the house.

For longtime fans, this is the clearest window yet into a period when the trio was remaking underground rock in real time. For newer listeners, the set serves as both a history lesson and a gateway.

This is a much-needed dose of Silver with young cats Shaw and Henderson, guaranteed to lift your spirits.

‘It’s not all about me,’ Paul intimates, and, sure enough, he reiterates his point, albeit delicately, on “Part Two” of the composition that began the album. Still, if Kelly dares to suggest anything profound on Seventy, it is only through his wilful implication that the narratives surrounding us are as absorbing as our own, at least when perceived within the generosity of spirit permeating these recordings.

Midlake’s sixth LP is an unassuming yet vibrantly fun listen, brimming with expressive anecdotes that aim to enhance your surroundings rather than distract from them.

Cook does a great job of keeping the focus on Mavis. None of the guest spots are intrusive. In fact, it’s only the slide guitar parts from Bonnie Raitt or Derek Trucks that are attention-getting. The overall effect is that of Mavis, a living saint and the voice of empathy, leading the hushed gathering in prayer, best evidenced in her take on Curtis Mayfield’s “We Got To Have Peace.”

Welch lays her soul bare, goes into terrifying detail on topics most would run away from, and can emerge from it all with another pop innovation to add to her resume. Everybody Scream is Welch reaching a boiling point and stuffing this world of hurt and confusion into 12 gentle songs that never hold back a punch. The artist pens some of her most honest music to date, and even if the world seems to be crumbling around her, Welch comes out on the other side wiser, more daring.

Far from just a slice of history, this roughly thirty-five minutes simultaneously consolidates the creative metamorphosis that preceded it and reaffirms the continued relevance of Bob Dylan’s work.

As a bleak artistic shift from his folksier Americana, the album is a complete product, just not a very engaging one. Todd Snider seems to be in transition with this record.

The well-decorated singer-songwriter is well past the point of trying to prove anything. Yet, it’s refreshing to see Carlile embracing new approaches. And, of course, it’s beautifully and articulately rendered.

While not as accessible as It’s A Shame About Ray or as punk-focused as Hate Your Friends, Love Chant is an impressive blending of both styles.

There’s a careful sequencing to the record that one can only appreciate listening to it in its entirety. Let it take you places.

The lyrics of Deadbeat scream essential Tame Impala. Still, there is a simplicity to Deadbeat that has never been a part of the band’s repertoire, allowing Parker’s songwriting to feel new and fresh. .... These twelve songs do more than satisfy Parker’s hunger for something fresh; they establish Tame Impala as an amorphic sonic giant ready to implement their singularity into whichever genre they please.

God Save The Gun is a daring yet rewarding sophomore effort from a band seeking solace in the hectic pace of creative success, coming to terms with its pitfalls, and crafting a honed 14-song collection of brutally self-analyzing, immersive rock.

With highlights like the folksy yet violent storytelling single, “This Is The Killer Speaking,” the heartbreaking poetry and emotional outpouring on “Sail Away,” the raw, passionate vocals on “Count The Ways,” and the way all these moods fit under one sonic umbrella, TLDP strikes unabashed gold for the second album in a row on From The Pyre.

THE BPM is Parks’s riskiest and most rewarding album to date, and proves that the artist can manipulate her tendencies into whichever form she pleases.

By shaving off their more experimental edges, the group can fall into a few middle-of-the-road soul-pop numbers, such as the dancefloor-ready “Sitting In The Corner”, the hand-clapping one-note “Ooo-Wee”, and the string-laden “Nothing More Lonely”, which all deliver a professional, if tame, Fitz and the Tantrums vibe. The dynamic “Seagulls” is better, mixing keys, clean guitar strums, and a dynamite trumpet solo around the effortless, head-bopping groove and Janeway’s vocals.

There is a bare-it-all vulnerability that ties all these songs together. With his vocals, a strong, slightly nasally tenor, and acoustic guitar at the forefront of the near dozen songs here (plus a short prologue and interlude), the record is a pivot away from his last solo outing – 2022’s The Misfit.

Its restraint may frustrate those looking for hooks or crescendos, but that sparseness is part of the message: climate change doesn’t always arrive as spectacle, but as the slow, quiet unraveling beneath our feet. The Antlers continue to churn out meaningful music that connects with listeners who prefer challenging rewards.

The remastering gives both nights a welcome clarity while keeping the raw, club-floor immediacy intact. Heard back-to-back, these shows tell the story of a label that could bring the heat whether at home or under the bright lights of a major city.

With the help of super-producer John Congleton, shame created a new blistering, no-nonsense sound. These 12 songs are face-melting, immersive, clunky in the best way possible, and more than anything, they’re wildly cathartic. .... It is the arrangement behind these words that drills their points into your soul.

The 12-song sophomore effort allows the listener to view punk music through their lens, and these aren’t rose-tinted glasses, showing a band content with one sound forever. Snooper is looking to leave their mark on punk, and Worldwide slowly begins to dig its claws into that goal, even if it comes with subtle growing pains.

This is not an album meant to prove any sense of prowess; it is a quiet collection of songs from an artist looking to understand himself better.

he fearless Neko Case has returned from a seven-year hiatus with perhaps her most fully realized album to date. Neon Grey Midnight Green is a title only Case could conceive, let alone the lyrics to these songs, possibly more intimate and personal than ever.

Getting Killed establishes the band as amorphic, an ever-growing blob of raucous rock that thrives in the unpredictability it has put into place. Rather than select one of the many sonic worlds that gave Geese this pedestal they stand on, the band decides to dive deeper into their loftiness on Getting Killed, creating a sprawling LP that never loses focus, yet never feels the need to linger too long.

While the repertoire is not especially revelatory, it is superbly executed.

The fearless artist trusts his gut, questions everything, including himself and the world he lives in, explores the limits of his guitar and his honesty to land on an all-encompassing opus that is equally undeniable and valiant.

Bleeds is a full cathartic release for both Wednesday and the listener, as the band creates a jam-packed tracklist that sheds raw honesty, imaginative imagery, and artistic maturity over warped distortion. The band is performing as if writing and recording these songs were the only way to differentiate dreams from reality.

The novelty-worthy Blues/rocker “Kudzu Vines” sounds like little more than album filler. But the slow built to almost euphoric “Wild Ways,” complete with a backing choir, and the organ-drenched, revenant song “The Throne” make up for the inclusion of “Kudzu Vines.”

In the Hour of Dust ends on a note of affirmation and encouragement, a fitting end to a work that, while cinematic and beautifully rendered, remains a protest record at heart.

It’s not really necessary to be familiar with the source works to come away impressed by the ingenuity on display here: that surplus of inspiration lends itself to enough solo piano from Mehldau to anchor the narrative and remind us why he is so worth listening to in the first place.

Byrne always walks the fine line with his art-pop between pretentious and affecting, but thankfully, he always invests heavily in the almighty groove and some humor. Tracks like “Door Says No” skillfully evoke a range of emotions, and the quirky “I Met the Buddha at a Downtown Party” skillfully blends tasty desserts with spirituality and the mystery of life, all set to a cool beat.

Edwards’ vocals are vibrantly strong, framed beautifully by the accompaniment, whether driving hard or in a more sensitive mode.

The marriage of the band’s reflective songwriting and the soaring experimentation of the arrangement proves to be a winning formula, as exemplified on touching moments like the wistful, chugging “Words,” or the warped album opener, “Incomprehensible.”

For fans waiting for the band to release something as good as their 2012 sophomore album, The Strange Case Of…, the wait is over. Everest has some of the best music of Halestorm’s career.

Importantly, Crowell seems to be enjoying himself. He’s teamed up with the guitarist and producer Tyler Bryant to deliver a rocking, somewhat casual, not overthought musical accompaniment. .... Crowell never minces words. He has the distinctive gift of forming rhyming couplets that are witty, evocative, and occasionally provocative.

This is a no-bells-or-whistles effort from DeMarco, staying true to the Guitar title by tying together string-driven emotional releases with jaw-dropping consistency.

What the album lacks in sonic consistency, as the tracklist leaps from pop anthems to nostalgic soul balladry, it makes up for in raw passion and artistic experimentation.

Making Room for the Light redefines Powell’s writing and vocal range to fit a more soulful landscape. Her melodies deliver butterflies in the listener’s stomach via masterful tone control, but when combined with Parry’s ability to make the simplistic feel stadium-sized, all of these cherished lyrics become emphasized.

It’s an album that invites you in with warmth, unsettles you with its peculiar details, and leaves you somewhere between the past and the present, not entirely sure which is which.

The tracks that really try to fuse the bounce/gospel genres are the most interesting offerings.

The whole album can easily transport one to those outer realms of the mind. It’s a major step forward for Younger the composer and fits in well with the iconic label’s knack for tapping generational voices.

Mádé Kuti removes any doubts, announcing himself as a vital torchbearer of his family’s incredible musicianship infused with a fighting-for-the-oppressed spirit.

It ["May I Never"] brings the album’s journey of self-examination and introspection to a powerful close.

When Chris and Oliver Wood began collaborating as a duo in the early 2000s, there was a tangible element of self-deprecating humor in their work. That element has faded to a great degree over time–especially in comparison to the latter’s solo efforts–but the jolly, acerbic attitude has returned virtually in full here. It’s most reminiscent of 2006’s Ways Not To Lose and Loaded two years later. “Above All Others,” in fact, sounds borderline sarcastic (and lethally so ), its effect heightened by the easygoing waltz rhythm at the heart of the performance.

While the full arrangements are stunningly mesmerizing, like the punchy horns on the title track, or the twinkling, alluring guitars on “On The Rocks,” it is when Hanson is left alone at his piano that the album achieves its singularity. .... Whether he’s pontificating over nimble pieces of soul or telling tales fire-side with piano-driven arrangements, Hanson proves to be a modern songwriting giant on I Love People.

Her obsession with the past, recent losses, and more directly with mortality is overwhelming. If you are feeling down, it’s best to avoid listening. Okay, you have been sufficiently warned. There are, of course, positive aspects too. Her poetry is as rich as ever. She does have a couple of optimistic tunes, and her thought patterns often resemble those 3 AM dreams. Well, maybe that part isn’t so positive, but they are certainly relatable. The album is also somewhat deceptive.

It is in the opener and closer where perhaps the most interesting experiments lie. Cobb opens with “Beyond Measure (Piano),” a solo piano number that sounds almost demo-like and starts the album on odd footing, but the closing “Beyond Measure (Fixin’s)” brings the whole band back to the track. Perhaps combining those two efforts in Neil Young-like fashion could find a successful middle ground between Cobb’s rock and Americana urges.

The track ["Stick Around"], like all the others, runs short, getting to the lyrical point without overdoing it. Those lyrics can sometimes feel generic and straightforward; however, Bird’s vocals have taken the next step, as she manages to sound both vitally urgent and more subdued and heartbroken with ease.

With all its unpredictable mood shifts, The Cosmic Selector Vol. 1 has one consistency that nothing can take away from Lord Huron: their songwriting is some of the most beautifully poetic in Americana. Throughout the warping arrangements and surprise features, the band proves to have a cacophony of heartwrenching ballads that add a splash of color to grey emotions like heartbreak and loneliness.

Much is made in the promotional materials about the aggregation of guests: Sarah Jarosz, Charlie Sexton, Bonnie Whitmore, Bukka Allen, and others, but their contributions are mostly subtle. McMurtry and his core band of guitarist Tim Holt, bassist Cornbread, drummer Daren Hess, and harmony vocalist BettySoo do most of the heavy lifting. McMurtry is, for whatever reason, a vastly underrated guitarist and vocalist, yet he shines on both accounts in these ten songs, all but two of which he wrote.

It’s an album that balances intense aggression with sing-along melodies and introspection with detached cynicism. And those delicate balancing acts serve as a worthy step forward from Wet Leg’s excellent 2022 debut.

The dissonance in styles and tones is unnerving in the best way, resulting in a multifaceted experience that challenges metal preconceptions while remaining easy to digest.