Marissa Nadler does continue Nadler's impressive track record, and showcases her at her most confident.

While doom metal is typically considered too droll and meandering for most non-metal fans to penetrate, Foundations of Burden transcends the genre so well that submerging oneself in the album’s striking melodies and crushing riffs feels almost effortless.

Courtney might give the impression that he's aiming for a low-stakes, minor effort to pass the time in Magic Signs, a stopgap until moving on to a relatively more ambitious project. But he couldn't be more in his element, shifting in and out of focus as he recaptures his youthful wonder.

His irrepressible, grizzled vocal is the master key to the soul that is often kept hidden behind the pewter façade, and it’s the desire for more glimpses into it is what makes Gargoyle as affecting as it is.

King Of Jeans burns with enough vitriol and frustration that the music escalates the album’s importance. And, at times, they do grant second-party attention.

For all of the melancholy, it's far from a depressing experience; if anything, it's an oddly uplifting album, one that manages to find a great deal of beauty lurking just beneath the ugliness we sometimes find ourselves confronted by.

What makes M.I.A. so good is her simplicity. Not quite electro-clash, not quite hip-hop, not quite grime, she's a world onto herself with little more than a groovebox and her voice to sustain her.

Crush is the result of Abe Vigoda's common practice to evolve without abandoning their signature sound. There's still a fair amount of sharp guitars, post-chorus breakdowns are just as memorable, and metronome time signatures are still shattered. Not to mention, their shrewd tack for melody is as resounding as ever.

Woodkid has a sound that is unique in the music landscape, and most of the songs on this album are exciting, evocative tracks that play to the most basic of emotions: love, loss and redemption.

The quiet/loud dynamics of Pleasure showcase an artist who’s satiating her capricious appetite, all while keeping her listeners guessing with a knowing wink.

It’s a bit of stretch to call Parquet Courts the next trailblazers of off-center indie rock, but they sure got the rock n’ roll part down pat.

While Aghori Mhori Mei doesn't reach the same highs as some of their defining albums, it does show the original trio of Corgan, Iha, and Chamberlain forging a newfound musical identity in lockstep.

[Banga] may be the songstress's most ambitious statement yet.

While not his best album, Hesitation Marks shows that he has no intention to fall back on old formulas.

It's a moving, eclectic return that longtime fans will admire—and find themselves surprised to discover them for the first time.

We Cater To Cowards has warranted many listens, our current timeline a wealth of ridiculousness breeding targets meant for Oozing Wound’s shrapnel. Again, if you’re missing the joke, you may want to duck.

ATUM is more sonically consistent than 1995's opus Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. ... Corgan somehow achieved the impossible: a genuinely likable, odd, and even inclusive album that sounds like nothing else in 2023.

Van Etten took the risk of not releasing any singles beforehand so audiences could more fully understand the full scope of the story. She holds a little bit of control before charging ahead, unlocking the connection she craves after experiencing a ceaseless stream of negativity. It's the kind of emotional catharsis all of us can relate to during these uncertian times.

Stormzy makes every minute of this album count. By giving a voice to both the street and religious sides of his life he is able to produce a well-rounded, exciting project.

No holds barred, and no pitch-correction in sight, the tracks of 200 Million Thousand shine like diamonds in the rough, warts-and-all.

For Fanfarlo, this is a follow-up that does all that it needs to do. It keeps us critics and fans happy with a healthy balance of familiarity and expansion.

From subtle synth stabs to soft rock explorations, Hamilton and Thomas open their songwriting possibilities by paying attention to nuance. It's in those shadings that their music takes shape: slowly but surely, and with unassuming confidence.

Tell Me is an impressive work. Mayfield shines as she enters new territory in her musical composition and her lyricism.

It’s still haunting, and it’s still beautiful. It’s like a soundtrack to exploring some abandoned, centuries-old mansion in the middle of a desert, now filled with ghosts, lost memories, and cobwebs weaved around expensive furniture.

Changing Horses emphatically answers the question of “what next?” for Ben Kweller and although not faultless, it’s a strong showing, especially for someone exploring a new musical direction as he is.

Bondy trudges along without much to believe in, but his instilled confidence tells otherwise.

Its authenticity is what makes it so addictive, so accessible.

A work of art, slightly rough around the edges and a little makeshift, but tremendously beautiful all the same.