Their most consistent and propulsive set of songs yet.

I miss the enveloping nature of Daniel’s last two albums, the feeling of floating through a particularly absorbing dream. But the new album does have plenty of buoyant moments.

Tyler Ballgame has a special voice; he just hasn’t yet made it distinct.

Songcraft is still their priority, and their moments of indulgence are not without self-awareness or criticism.

An odd, pleasingly unclassifiable instrumental record that was inspired, bizarrely enough, by a hurdy-gurdy performance he saw Keiji Haino play 28 years ago.

Every Craven Faults record is immersive and overwhelming, and Sidings is no different.

Vacancy is rooted in experience and features the most skillful vocal performances of Lennox’s career, highlighting her attention to mood and the patience with which she builds toward runs that feel like falling in love. Still, sometimes the songs feel like they’re trapped in amber, with emotion muted and songwriting that verges on repetitive.

Duckart’s second album, Death in the Business of Whaling, further develops his creative identity by adding a little mystery, opting for abstract, free-associative musings over straightforwardly confessional songwriting.

The collision of genres fashions a delicate niche, but Planet X’s most striking moments are its most deconstructed.

If these four songs [bad enough, healthy habit, you’re still everything, and bittersweet] were a standalone EP, it would be a showcase of Beer’s pop prowess; instead they’re an island in a sea of weaker, more derivative tracks.

Still, sparse as it may be, her music offers its own richness, and these songs often reach full-band conclusions that feel warm and inviting.

Williams revels in the comfort of rock’n’roll, encouraging her band to play loud even when they’re playing slow. .... There’s a casual, authoritative swing to their [the band's] performance that belies the stylistic range on the record; the songs touch upon different traditions, yet all sound of a piece.

Megadeth proves that Megadeth can still do the thing, but it’s missing the communal gravitas of a band’s last hurrah.

One standout is “Ruins of a Lost Memory.” .... It’s a concrete, compelling closer to an album that otherwise slips from memory as swiftly as a dream.

Instead of drawing attention to their experimentation, Winged Wheel make those sonic paths feel completely natural, trusting us to follow along even if they’re not sure where they’re headed.

While the brackish pleasure of beauty and noise isn’t unique to HEALTH, the overwhelming emphasis on the mechanical nature of the music makes CONFLICT DLC uniquely resonant when set against their previous work.

Because she can sound mournful even on upbeat songs, ballads tend to slip into melodrama. But when Andrews finds solid grooves to express her bittersweet optimism, Valentine rocks.

Don’t Be Dumb is not a blockbuster, and it’s all the better for it.

An undeniably sad record, but one of understated beauty: a lonely, faithful votive flickering brightly against the odds.

Tragic Magic grows more involving with each track. When two artists this distinctive and identifiable come together, you want to hear them make a third thing that wouldn’t exist without the collaboration, and the progression of the record finds them steadily feeling out that place.

The shimmering, rapturous hook of the title track, for example, packs a euphoric punch, though the song slightly overworks the objects-as-organs imagery. She has a lighter lyrical touch on opening track “Good Intentions,” a would-be John Hughes movie outro, and the pulsating “Every Ounce of Me,” an I-don't-want-to-fall-in-love banger with synths brighter than the sun. After the opening flush of these songs, the record’s remainder doesn’t quite reach the same highs.

It’s the sound of Zach Bryan figuring out how to paint on a larger canvas, how to sound like the superstar he has become.

Fenced in by the demands of the film, Fussell and Elkington make modesty both a virtue and shortcoming.

On Secret Love, their first album in three and a half years, Dry Cleaning are operating in a more intuitive, integrated way, investing the songs with pronounced dramatic cues, properly sung choruses, and playful call-and-response.

Decent enough—and certainly the strongest project Nas has released in his current era—yet seldom amounting to more than nostalgia bait for the 40-plus contingent. It’s meant to be a celebration of these two rap titans’ respective careers, a goal the album modestly achieves, but it spends so much time dwelling on the past that it’s hard to know precisely what Nas and Primo wanted from the experience.

On a record whose lyrics can be unintelligible, I normally wouldn’t spend so much time dissecting the words, but Agriculture so often directs us toward closer analysis, deeper listening, fuller understanding.

Implosion brings out the best in each artist by highlighting their differences: Martin’s music comes off heavier than ever, while Fiedler’s fidgety rhythms are all the more dynamic.

The moments of direct storytelling feel more tantalizing considering how little we know about the writer.