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.

The songwriting is impressively strong, with no weak or filler tracks. While Randolph is the focal point, the Family Band, which, in addition to his sister, includes cousins Danyel Morgan on bass and Marcus Randolph on drums, is amazingly versatile in how they can move between styles so fluidly. Brighter Days comes from sacred steel, and remains rooted in it, but isn’t locked into it.

It’s not just a sequel to its counterpart, but an extension of that prior work as well as the live autobiography-in-song that is this group’s their eponymous debut.

Look closely at the repertoire here. It’s emblematic of the Mavericks approach – classic country, Sun Records, Tejano, ’50s and ‘60s R&B, pop, and contemporary rock. It’s especially remarkable given Malo’s Cuban American heritage but that too has been part of their genre-agnostic approach that has served them well for 30 years, and maybe never better than the way they sound here.

Whether Jacob’s Ladder successfully reaches listeners, however, will ultimately depend on an open-minded response to the various instrumental and vocal components.

Fertita pulls from all his edgy influences fortuitously throughout this solo self-titled debut, as Tropical Gothclub shakes with an infectious buzzing energy in line with Eagles of Death Metal and Them Crooked Vultures.

The band’s sound has evolved steadily since Letting Off the Happiness, but they have managed to hold onto everything that made the band stand out decades ago—emotionally smart songs delivered with earnest charm.

The opening track, the explosive “American Dream” is a solid indication that, despite the inspiration for this particular album, it’s not going to be crammed with maudlin introspection. That infectious energy is carried through on the dance-punk vibe of “Like You Did Before” and the incredible album closer “Bad Guys Always Win.”

Working with producer Butch Walker (Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran) in his Nashville studios, Cosentino reaches for the pop heights with timely tunes and lyrics which are current, but also middle of the road at times.

Only a confident and fearless songwriter could take on this kind of subject matter and make it resonate.

Each of the three volumes stands alone as great compact albums of indie pop, but they work better together, with each volume featuring a slightly different take on the material.

This is a band that has stayed true to its singular, languid, atmospheric sonic to best frame Margo Timmins’ vocals. Even when they step into denser and occasional harsher sonics, they manage to successfully retreat to this infectious comfort zone. We can’t call The Cowboy Junkies a national treasure, but an enduring, consistently strong North American treasure will do just fine.

Most of the time Morrison plays the songs straight, some with different arrangements and a few with lyrical twists. ... This music is well-designed for live performance and early reviews of the shows are highly favorable. However, as an album listening experience, the weight of so many background vocalists with call and response or echoes in every chorus on these tracks becomes wearisome.

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.

It’s very dreamy and a bit fuzzy; but magnetic. Once pulled in, it’s hard to let go. It’s a mysterious place that seemingly offers no easy exits.

There’s attitude aplenty from the very outset. In fact, its first track, “Shockwave,” contains the clarion call of electric guitars combined with bluesy harp, at least partially giving the lie to chest-thumping lyrics Liam delivers with an almost audible sneer. The repetition of the refrain might be better served with an extra dollop or two of spontaneity, and while this somewhat stilted production might well be expected from Kurstin and Wyatt–who’ve worked with the likes of Adele and Lady Gaga–it doesn’t lessen the dampening effect on this performance and that of “Now That’ I’ve Found You.”

The Baltimore based artist has released and produced a variety of EP’s, soundtracks and experimental offerings but on Mystic Familiar he succeeds in combing passions and moving things slightly to a more personal tone amongst the cluttering digital world in which we all live.

Regardless going against all conventions and ridding itself of repetition, Croz Boyce is an album that begs to be heard again and again.

King Gizzard made sure every guest felt welcome without sacrificing their true range. While Phantom Island is a consistent and stadium-sized effort, each song feels like its own little universe of musical solace to get lost in.

The group flashes its technical wizardry, an ear for the weird/experimental and crushingly powerful headbanging ways, cataloging their past while looking towards their future.

Ultimately, his multi-faceted approach proves intriguing.

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.

With Second Nature they prove once again that they can filter in new sounds and stylistic ideas in a way that never feels inorganic, letting their songs and gift for memorable melodies shine through whatever outfit they’ve dressed them in.

Temple captures the band’s unique melding of styles: Asian with American, hip hop with rock, analog with digital, off-kilter with hummable. The band’s influences are combined not as a precise recipe, but as an experimental alchemy that rewards in unexpected ways.

Sultana has crafted a wide-ranging offering on Terra Firma, appealing to different tastes, eras, and styles.

Lund goes out of his way to cover each in his own style without simply trying to duplicate the originals. As a result, he manages to pay homage to the songwriters while still putting out a record that his growing fanbase will relate to.

The beauty of Almost Free is the underlying honesty that exudes from each riff and lyric.

On What Chaos Is Imaginary, Tucker and Tividad have created an album that find the duo embracing their personal changes while still writing honest and deep lyrics. The harmonies and melodies on the album are far above those on past albums.