It’s another intriguing entry into the Charli XCX canon, even if it does feel like more of a stopgap than anything. But hey, right now, that’s okay too.

Small quibbles notwithstanding, Future Nostalgia is the perfect antidote to quarantine-induced cabin fever.

Petals for Armor succeeds best at sustaining a mood throughout, capturing the chaotic ups and downs of depression. Some moments are sugary sweet, while others are biting and angry, but the album keeps things healthy by switching between infectious pop tunes and mellow art-pop parts.

Lindén had some false starts in trying to realize her true vision with Warnings, and it shows—the effort she went through to craft a sound this painstakingly meticulous requires time and patience. And though we know how far she and Balck can push themselves, we're still not quite sure who exactly they want to be.

Ultimately, the project is still a little lightweight, if not a solid effort.

Its searing synths and chopped vocals can feel unjustified as a whole, but the songcraft is strong and the style supports some of its best moments.

While there are moments with more levity, Marling casts this world with a haunting backdrop of striking stories and superb instrumentation. It’s the rare album where a stripped-down approach entirely works, making these tales central and unmissable in their telling.

On their latest album, The New Abnormal, The Strokes have mirrored the career of Beck, offering a mimetic approximation of music they think people want, instead of music generated from their raw, inner demons or whatever fueled them on Is This It.

For music that's this visceral, every heart-rending confession can feel like a victory lap—but even the best runners have to take a breather to renew their energy.

Overall, Silver Landings finds Moore regaining her footing.

The shrill production manned by Ben Hillier over-amplifies the percussion and bass textures, making the entire project muddy in a way that can’t be intentional. While the joy occasionally breaks through (the glitchy From the Mouth is a blast), Melt Yourself Down kneecap themselves repeatedly on 100% Yes.

Where Chapman excels where others fail is that he's endearing about his self-deprecation, often conveying truths that read as casual as his relaxed arrangements. He also likes intertwining astronomical reasoning and science into his contemplating, because why wouldn't he.

Bloom is a little over 21-minutes of relentless noise pool of percussion and clatter that’s somehow relaxed by the gently pressed piano keys that methodically pierce its surface, a contrast that rests the mind over the length of this track when it might otherwise induce anxiety.

The Loves of Your Life was designed with each song intentionally being about a specific person, which makes even the worst songs interesting tales.

No amount of technical prowess can disguise O'Brien himself as a frontman, whose voice and personality is agreeable but never compelling. Because even if he feels it, it doesn't necessarily mean it's there.

While there are moments that feel less remarkable (the insignificant Hasdallen Lights or the groovy but repetitive Asteroid Blues), Heavens to a Tortured Mind succeeds when it’s mostly focused on creating a sensual yet serious mood throughout.

An album can't wear the pants of Carpenter, Carlos, and Oldfield, all of whom crafted electronic epics built around unforgettable melodies and precise attention to detail when Stevens and Bram hop from one track to the next before any of their soundscapes journey beyond the front porch.

CALM is occasionally inspired, sometimes incredibly stupid, and most of all: surprisingly fine.

Some of the arrangements stick, and some of them don't, but it's always enjoyable to hear where his open-ended narratives take you.

For the most part, Code Orange leans upon evocative writing that pairs heaviness to thoughtful lyricism. While there are a handful of phrases that feel sloppy or obvious (“The digital knife's edge that cuts us all” on In Fear, or Cold.Metal.Place’s “The fire burns down our 3D world”), Code Orange’s self-seriousness almost entirely works because of how badass they are.

The further you get, the sharper the writing becomes and the more introspective and unique the album feels.

Outside of the soaring Retrograde, a prime example of how Pearl Jam has ultimately matured, most of Gigaton shows a band whose collaborative efforts and expertise can still resonate if they open their minds to the challenge.

Given that Uneasy Laughter is guitar-centric first and foremost, both Saving Face and What Separates Us benefit from having muscular riffs that help offset its huge synth lines and Solomon's tenuous vocal range. Which is Moaning's greatest strength, but can be a weakness too, as they haven't been fully able to add more personality to their vulnerable, dark romanticism.

Every solid moment on American Standard is outmatched by a one to ten ratio of awry choices for songs that shouldn’t be hard to ruin. It’s almost impressive to see James Taylor screw up songs that are fundamentally easy to cover.

Margolin's bare-faced humanity is what's at the core of Every Bad, heightening the complicated feelings inherent in every one of us. Still, don't feel fooled into thinking that Porridge Radio's music is simple in terms of character and dynamic range. Whether they intend to or not, their tuneful, guitar-driven songcraft practically obliterates the left-of-center indie that's softened the genre into dreamy, pillowy mush.

Ultimately an excellent record. Where the message is muddied, thankfully the music is often, simply put, beautiful.

What makes You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere frustrating is the knowledge that Grote has all the right ingredients (including Fridmann in this case), but somehow isn’t consistently stringing things together.

Swimmer and a few other songs hint at what could have been, only to have the other half of the album play it safe. If only more of Tennis' songs took risks on unexpected palettes of emotion and drew from more complex poetic wells, then they might provide us with something special. Instead, they've created another enjoyable, if a bit rote and predictable album, like a relationship drifting into comfortable and boring domestic habits.