The album hones a clear message about how society is marred with malicious leeches and false prophets, but it’s just one side of many--most of all, this is Spoon mostly letting loose their perennial white funk, kinda square but almost always rhythmically enticing.

Ghost Blonde brings a glimmer of hope to those who feel that noise has remained stagnant, past overdue its last hurrah. As these set of songs pinpoints, there's still plenty to discover in a genre that has always shown itself as deviously minimal.

Ruiz is an effective and ruthless firecracker who grills her subjects with no remorse, but she’s also welcoming and receptive to those who speak their mind with courage. Along with the rest of the band, they understand that they can only encourage participation and bolster awareness.

This is the most esoteric, thinking-person’s cloud rap album I’ve heard since Shabazz Palaces’ Black Up, and I mean that in the most endearing, complimentary way possible.

I Love You Like a Brother is the type of catchy, kinetic album that’s natural and effortless.

With producer Andrew Schneider tweaking the knobs, his experience producing Unsane certainly applying here, KEN mode elevates their sonic outcry, hitting levels of discomfort with the subtly seasick Learning To Be Too Cold, thrash-bred Not Soulmates, and the manic combination of sounds in Fractures In Adults.

A lean 35 minutes, the whole of In Spades eases us into Dulli’s gripping and emotionally fraught accounts, offering a noble reason for us to feel some sympathy for him after letting go some of his defeatist guise.

Nadler is technically less alone, accompanied by a reliable cast of characters, but their inclusion is a virtue considering a simpler layout might've given the album a more distancing effect. It takes some time to absorb, but once it does the emotion it conveys is stunning.

Trees Outside the Academy sparkles with an eclectic (yet accessible) sound that has my early vote for Album of the Year.

If you are seeking something original then this is not it; if you are a fan of good music and your ears need their medicine, this is exactly what the doctor ordered.

Only a few songs ('Beyond Here Lie’s Nothin’,' 'Shake Shake Mama,' and 'I Feel a Change Comin’ On') really jump out of the grooves and the rest sounds like our greatest living songwriter coasting a bit--which is a whole lot better than not giving a shit ("Self Portrait") or flailing around aimlessly (pick an 80s record).

This album shines when Barnett allows some light to get in. There’s no immediate pull here but it rewards a listeners' patience, especially for those who preferred her breezy EPs over the bustle of her first two albums. It may be less consistent than her previous albums, but Barnett’s newfound willingness to be vulnerable means there’s every chance it will be remembered as her most significant work to date.

Wilco has come up with 50% of a classic album and 50% of a merely decent one. Buy it for the moments you simply won’t hear anywhere else.

Ultimately, Powerplant is a hooky, candid and sharp-witted portrait of young adulthood that engages with adept effortlessness.

Even if Ashes Grammar drifts quite nicely as a whole--best listened to it with eyes closed in a meditative position--it seems most appropriate for the short attention span generation.

Tao of the Dead finally channel their indulgences, creating a heroic symphony that sounds wholly constructed.

Some aspects of Prize remain a little perplexing—the wordplay doesn't always land, and the slinky-like guitar progressions feel a little like déjà—making it seem like a logical progression and not an artistic leap. But Plain's strengths lie in how she maintains a unique identity regardless of the numerous collaborators, always attuned to her inner world.

[Your] chances of finding a more assured and promising debut this year are pretty slim.

It's a testament to their ingenious crafting of familiar sounds that we hear the musical reference points in each of these songs without feeling cheated by the fact that we can pinpoint precisely who they sound like at any given moment.

Every song on the tracklist is fluid, fresh, and endued with a sense of fun.

It's cohesive, it's tight and it illustrates the band's continuous depth and attention to subtlety.

There’s something hauntingly beautiful about the way these tracks morph and evolve over their fairly short lifespan.

Passive Me, Aggressive You is undoubtedly a pop album, and an impressive one at that. There's a nice blend of intensity and honesty here, which TH&F will do well to maintain in their future career.

These guys are still writing and playing at the top of their game, making another album that’s just as brutal as Stage Four, if not a little more palatable for everyday listening.

With the exception of the very syrupy Taiyo No Baka, (an apparently "dark" song despite its relatively chipper demeanor), Noise fuses the best aspects of every genre Boris tackles, perpetuating their evolution with the promise of aggressiveness, distortion and all things wonderfully “loud.”

Not as poppy as either Moon Safari or Talkie Walkie, not as out there as 10,000khz Legend, Pocket Symphony instead boasts songs that deserve more attention than previous numbers without performing the prog histrionics often found on their more experimental works.

Crack the Skye follows Mastodon’s uncanny tradition of crafting a brand of heavy metal that is unabashed, mazelike, and above all, fresh.

Like Grouper before her, she’s wonderful at exploring those liminal spaces, washing over and subtly overwhelming you.