A balance of material, performance, and production mirrors the bandleader’s emotional equanimity in such sublime fashion, Relentless is as close to perfect as long-player out this year.

Attention to sonic details and layers of instrumental touches, combined with the harmonious vocal connection, deft songwriting, and easy-rolling charm, makes Keep Me on Your Mind/See You Free Bonny Light Horseman’s most complete album to date and a joy to experience.

Le Bon’s genius, at a time saturated with nostalgia and gated reverb, is to borrow more from mood than technique. Pompeii moves towards Talk Talk, Kate Bush, and Richard Butler in how it emotes, but also achieves their same level of timelessness.

We hear some new facets of Marshall’s artistry and have a terrific record demonstrating his versatility and vision. Clearly, it’s worthy of the hype.

MESTIZX stands out not just as a musical album but as an impactful cultural statement. Ferragutti and Rosaly have crafted a work that is both a tribute to their ancestors and a manifesto for future generations.

At only eight tracks, Heartmind is a perfect length to listen to multiple times. If a song doesn’t grab you the first time around, upon repeat listens the nuances that are layered throughout tend to pop out and give the listener a new appreciation for it.

Sangaré sings with as much if not more freedom and passion as she did on her debut some 30 years ago. She more than upholds the Malian traditions of rebels, undaunted in fighting for causes they believe in. And, in doing so, her voice and the entire musical presentation sounds joyous, spirited, and beautiful.

Brighten is aptly named, though, because the biggest departure for Cantrell is trading his usual gloom, depression, and cynicism for a more positive, even uplifting tone. ... But it is still a Jerry Cantrell album, so darkness and musical tension find their way through cracks in the pleasant facade.

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.

An almost biblical journey to freedom, Tinariwen have inspired compatriots from Tamikrest to Bombino, artists that encapsulate the struggle of a people, taking it to the world through music that truly brings people together.

This is a leap forward for Hiatt who delivers her most fully realized album yet.

The result is an excellent sounding but slightly flat affair as the band settles into life as a trio.

Stunning, dark, poetic. ... Chances are you won’t fall in love with this album immediately but images will liner in your head and you’ll be drawn back to it repeatedly and appreciate it more with each listen.

The reason it’s so hard to find something to say is that every song is perfection. ... This remastered collection is impressive no matter how you look at it.

Stumpwork is bright and more exploratory than what came before, the result of a band pushing the boundaries of its sound farther than just about any of their peers without losing track of their trademark lockstep groove.

Collaboration is a good color on Bass Drum of Death as Barrett looking to outside opinions allowed for his ideas to take full form and provide us with 12 tracks of unfiltered rock with enough melody to plant itself firmly in your psyche and remind you of what album to throw on when you need to get lost in a cloud of harmonious garage rock.

They sound even more urgent now and, of course, Lanois’s production values have further enhanced the band’s captivating sound.

Dacus’ lyricism is pushed farther on Home Video than ever before, with each song contributing its own characters and memories and developing a work tight and succinct enough to be called a concept album. ... Even more importantly, she has proven once again that she is amongst her generation’s strongest lyricists.

As June continues to shape her style, it’s clear she’s zeroing in on her muse. The essence of June’s sound is perfectly captured in the album title. She transports the listener through lush soundscapes that not only leave echoes; they leave a lasting halo-like glow.

I Don’t Live Here Anymore, pushes the groups sound as much as it can, while staying conceptually consistent and rewarding.

Messages of love and peace, so prevalent during the late sixties and early seventies come through stellar arrangements of “The Creator Has a Master Plan,” originally associated with Leon Thomas and Pharaoh Sanders as well as the traditional gospel chestnut, “Wade in the Water.” ... This recording will likely still emerge as one of the year’s most important.

Ultimately much of the charm of Peculiar, Missouri was in its stripped-down, consistent sound. In contrast, Critterland is certainly not consistent. Rather, it’s a disparate collection of ambitious, oddball tracks that sometimes grab you instantly and sometimes take a while to sink in, but ultimately make for a compelling listen.

The result is the 10-song In The Blossom Of Their Shade, a curious, but strong record rooted in old time jazz and country music that sounds like found audio from another generation.

Generally, it is flowing, highly sophisticated, and graceful, but with several intense moments. In the historical context; it lies somewhere between the Wayne Shorter and McCoy Tyner spectrum to the even more adventurous Andrew Hill, Eric Dolphy, and Grachan Moncur III. .... This is contemporary jazz of the highest order.

Despite the multitude of contributors, Placenta maintains a natural, cohesive flow. Niño’s role as a facilitator and catalyst is evident throughout, as he channels the creative energy of his collaborators into a unified, organic whole. .... Niño continues to push the boundaries of musical expression, and Placenta is a shining example of his visionary artistry.

The real joy in this album is found in the shared musical language that’s exhibited across its seven tracks. Instruments fold into each other and each player seems to relish the chance to explore these sonic spaces with true abandon together. These might not be King Gizzard’s tightest, or most immediately memorable pieces of songcraft, but their creativity and kinship is on full display here, which is ultimately what this band has always been all about (that and reminding us of impending heat death).

Ely gets into ballad mode on Ernest Tubbs’ “I Don’t Blame You,” demonstrating a superior command of dynamics, phrasing, and expression that have long defined his storied career. Hancock gets into rollicking mode on Mickey Newbury’s “Mobile Blue” as the twangy guitars fire full throttle while Ely takes Hancock’s “Ramblin’ Man” down a couple of notches with his pals joining on the choruses.

So, yes, the album will disorient you and space you out like a psychedelic trip. That’s her intent but there are serious notions at work as well. ... It’s a lot to take on but somehow, she pulls it off. Grab your headphones and take the trip.