The songcraft here - the ebb and flow, the bells and whistles, lapping against the shore - is fantastic. The resultant castle on the seafront, built from the sog and the shrapnel, is a joy to spend time with. Best of all, it doesn’t feel like an end.

This LP successfully condenses Spiritualized’s discography into a cohesive, 48-minute listen.

In all honesty, For All Kings is great, but it is definitely front-loaded. It could have used a few more thrashers down the line to really push it to the next level, but it is still the best thing they’ve done since Persistence of Time.

Outside of “Love Again,” the album is chock-full of jams from front to back, and RTJ2, in its astonishing scope and finesse, continues a tradition of greatness for the unlikely duo, and serves as one of the more distinguished bright spots in an otherwise stale year for hip-hop.

Sremmlife is as good as it is because of how sonically pleasing it is.

Los Camp have never sounded better or more essential, even if it’s all a little Motion City Soundtrack-ish.

Chasing Yesterday is crammed full of natural sounding songs by a man who has only ever known one way of making music, and long may it continue.

There is something for every Mark Lanegan fan. It is also a good starting point for those unaware of his music. The only mildly bothering element is the production, since it doesn’t fit every tune. On the upside, there’s a rawness to the guitars and especially the vocals (most of the time they sound as if he’s singing in your room in front of you). Even so, during the multi-layered parts, some details get lost in a muddy pool of reverb.

Their return more than holds its own as a direct progression of Mclusky, but there’s a sense that they themselves feel like expectations should be tempered just a hair, a self-awareness that ends up dangerously close to hamstringing the cocksure arrogance that’s such a crucial part of their charisma.

Sparkle Hard remains an entirely worthwhile pursuit that resides within the upper echelon of Malkmus’ post-Pavement output. The way he experiments and progresses his sound is admirable, and it has resulted in some must-hear moments on this very record.

Violence Unimagined is thus not only a treat for those who feast upon flesh but also a proof of resilience, power, and determination. It is yet another successful chapter in one of the best portfolios the genre has to offer.

It may be unfriendly and demanding beyond a level I've ever experienced from the Necks, but it is so meticulously, disarmingly constructed as such that it might just stand among their most intriguing works to date; leave any expectations of an easy ride at the door, and you'll shocked at how expertly it drains you.

Sticking to the slowlane and sanding down jagged edges has done wonders, giving VOID much more space to breathe, its dripping atmosphere thereby safeguarded, and preserved yet further by excellent pacing and pristine production.

Clone of the Universe brings to the table another batch of headbangers and a big surprise for fans as the second half. The classic Fu Manchu set is augmented by a more dynamic approach to tempo shifts, leaving the straightforward, punk mindset in the background.

Some patience is required, but if you embrace the slow burn, Cusp will slowly reveal itself to you; the bright harmonies covering Diane’s darkest lyrics will come crumbling down. And when that happens, all you can do is listen--in awe of the beauty born from personal pain.

It’s a record confident in its own making, even more so when it turns its focus inward.

Twenty-seven minutes is quite short, and the last couple of songs still feel undercooked compared to the slab of punk bangers offered by the first half. Despite this, the songs that bang do because they carry powerful punk riffs and relatable, Linkin Park-worship lyrics to yell.

It does feel lesser when compared to Blems After Banging’s debut LP, partly because a lot of the novel intrigue has washed away post-Cry, but also because it feels slightly incremental in its employment of familiar tropes and introduction of diverting yet somewhat unnecessary ones. Nevertheless, the record still possesses an intoxicatingly spacey sense of style, the ambience of the music permeating the atmosphere and remaining like the smell of exhaled smoke. Whether it lingers for seconds, days, months, or even years after is a question entirely dependent on the listener.

This is a very nice record, yet feels more settled overall. Nevertheless, it's a matter of choice rather than quality.

It’s hard to move past this when there’s so much going on but, whether we expect to like it or not--which mostly translates to whether we expect to be able to put up with him or not, we owe it to Universal Themes to try. Despite his behaviour, it's still a great album.

Bjork's ninth studio album is the first to deal with such dismal and personal details, and is her most revealing as a result--through lyricism as well as through songwriting.

Ghosts V: Together features a calmer, at times relaxed sound, yet you can feel tension slowly mounting around you. Reznor and Ross never allow you to completely let your guard down. ... It is a lot to take in, Together and Locusts require patience and a certain mood, however, both are meticulously crafted and deserve their place in the catalog.

New Moon is simply a more casual affair by The Men, a perfectly passable rock record by a band with the talent to pull that off and without the anxiety that you’ll want to pay attention.

The Bones of What You Believe hits so many high notes with its surprisingly simplistic delivery that it’s impossible not to recommend to even the most jaded of listeners. Yes it is at times sickly sweet, but that’s part of the charm.

The new outing from the Nordic rockers may not be as essential as Sister Faith in the long run, but it certainly makes for a highly pleasurable listen.

Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars fears not experimentation, and has the chops to occasionally shine through with awe-inspiring beauty. It’s worth it to not have a front-to-back ear pleaser when the peaks are this brilliant.

There’s such a rush to these songs and, resultingly, it feels like Mitski is hurrying to capture something before it dissolves into smoke. It’s ephemeral because life is.

Blindness doesn’t necessarily come together in the way a record ideally would, despite the fact that the songs are largely high-quality. Nonetheless, I’m quite intrigued by the record’s final stretch, which notably improves the overall feeling of this release.

The Car is crackling with a wickedly fun energy underneath the surface of its mid-tempo mugging, if you're willing to take the commute and meet it halfway.

I doubt anyone will be in a hurry to file this as either the weakest or the strongest Blonde Redhead record, but it might just be the most traditionally pleasant experience they've put their name to.

There aren't many artists who can deconstruct and rebuild such interesting tracks equally based on both disturbing and exquisite soundscapes, yet Fennesz continues his winning streak.

Past Lives isn't exactly full of surprises, but it doesn't need to be to succeed as a mission statement for a new band who seem to be around to stay, if rumours of new material brewing are any indication. Every member of L.S. Dunes is in their element even after respective years of being legends in the genre.

Musically, many of the songs here are not as melodic as the ones on TSAF and rely a bit too much on those blueprints. Nevertheless, the lyrics matter most in my opinion, while the music is just as engaging and easily sucks you in its universe. Dig it!

All Of This Will End is the type of album that will alternately satisfy and disgruntle the existing fanbase, but for me, it’s just another uneven but worthwhile step on an emerging artist’s journey.

Alter Bridge’s The Last Hero provides us with a great--if at times flawed – record whose meaning is even bigger than the music that comprises it.

El Mirador is definitely on the right path, becoming Calexico’s strongest effort since Algiers. These cheerful tunes make for an immediate, fun affair.

Sucker, for all its charms, occasionally comes off as one-dimensional. But there were few records this year as sparkly and blindingly colorful, with production values that revel in excess and a mischievous spirit that rivals the best of Charli’s rebellious, sexually adventurous forebears.

As assured as they are here, one still gets the nagging suspicion that Braids are yet to genuinely find their true sound. And, in a sense, this is what makes them such a fascinating proposition to continue to listen to.

Rheia is remarkably and unexpectedly cohesive in sound, while still sprawling and thoughtfully arched.

What makes Lousy with Sylvianbriar a typically of Montreal album is Barnes’s effortless subversion of these classic rock idioms, his ability to distort the twangy harmonies and corn-fed heartland melodies with blindingly vivid, visceral lyrical imagery as deceptive and dark as it is gorgeously enunciated.

We’re totally invested in Lump’s plight, watching it fight off numbness with two dead and flailing arms. But mainly because the tones here are wonderful.

The outfit’s edge has found a whetstone that is able to sharpen the previously-established chaos, whilst also adding a gut-punch severity to the overall effect, even if it remains just as playful in its lyricism and garage-band simplicity. Audacious in sound, digestible in focus and a big-bollocked, rollicking good time.

Their most socially aware record yet. Whether they address political issues, genocides (both historic and contemporary) or anxieties caused by alienation or inability to cope with the overwhelming pace of the 21st century, the band smoothly blends the beautiful with the ugly. In between the loud, razor wired guitar attack you also get lovely picked chords or bouncy bass lines.

A few quibbles aside, this is a rock-solid debut and it’ll be interesting to see where these women take their music next.

The only real thing separating this from Some Rap Songs is the lack of duration and inter-song flow; Earl's last album deserved those slightly silly Abbey Road nods as much as Jeff Rosenstock's WORRY. did, whereas FEET OF CLAY plays as self-contained little musings that seem to flutter in and out as a radio channel changes.

Formula of Love could have been trimmed to 10 strong cuts and I am sure it would have been one of the tightest Kpop albums in recent years. It’s easy to dismiss it due to the genre it represents, but there was considerable effort put into most of these songs, so it’s worth some listens.

Colors is a varied and blissful pop album that finds joy in our times, and Beck expectedly makes it interesting and vibrant to experience. He has decided to make something optimistic in the midst of so much unrest, and it succeeds in bringing a celebratory presence to a world that need it

A doubling down on their unapologetically weirdest influences; instead, a scattershot sampling of basically every sound they can conjure, recorded in every different way. The only thing Dragon... cements is that nothing about Big Thief is set in stone, which is in its own way an absolutely remarkable achievement.

The lyrics might not always make linear sense, but there’s a sort of appealingly weird logic to it all, and the musical soundscapes invite the listener towards some (often placid) alternate dimension. This may be a mood listen, more than anything, but as a soundtrack to a relaxed moment on a sunny day, you could do a whole lot worse.

Sometimes captivating, always soothingly pleasant, The Land, The Water, The Sky is an accessible effort which should appeal to a wide audience.

This album destroys as much as possible while it’s on, and even if it leaves a little to be desired once it’s over (damn expectations!), it doesn’t seem to give a fuck about what you think. Honestly, fair enough.

Letter to Self is undoubtedly a pretty good option to start off this new chapter, and for Sprints it may be even the beginning of something truly special.

When I’m in the perfect mindset this album feels like one of the finest albums I’ve heard all year, while if listened to when the mood isn’t quite right, the sleepiness of most of the album overwhelms its virtues. At the very least, Nothing Special is worth a spin for fans of Okkervil River, folk, or good lyrics, if for no other reason than to decide whether the album title is appropriate or not.

With the influx of diverse instrumentation and delightfully wacky songwriting/production choices, Paradise State of Mind may actually be their most accomplished album to-date – either way, it’s definitely their most entertaining.

It’s a nostalgic release full of wisdom, like hearing from an old friend, providing the kind of evening fireside soundtrack which hits just right in a particular mood. If nothing else, it’s a marvel how much emotion Knopfler, getting on in years, can still eke out of those guitar strings.

The Serenity of Suffering is easily Korn’s most diverse release; featuring melody, aggression, new sounds and old staples in just about equal measures wrapped into some of the band’s strongest songs in years.

This isn’t an album to convert the naysayers, but for the already initiated, prepare yourself to once more sing with your heroes, 33 rounds per minute.

Together is a finely-crafted work which should hold up to listening under widely varied circumstances, likely to feel as much at home amid the windswept, skeletal trees of late autumn as on the porch on a humid summer evening. All told, there’s plenty to rejoice about, the sad boys are back in town.

At its core, Embracism is a full-fledged artistic statement that's at once endearing and wildly eccentric.

elseq may well be the most ambitious thing Autechre have ever released.

It may be difficult to listen to, and even harder to stomach, but there is great reward in focusing on what happens in this deceptively hushed landscape that Hval has built, because for all its use of soft atmospherics and gentle, eiderdown-laced vocals, the album ultimately betrays the implication of a lifetime of misuse beneath its soothing dulcet tones and restrained palettes.

Stygian Waves crafts a rich, immersive experience that thrives on atmosphere, melody, and mood. It’s an album that rewards patience, pulling the listener in with its delicate intricacies and dreamlike textures – all executed with remarkable finesse. At the end of the day, you may come for Alex Lifeson, but you’ll stay for the strong songs and capable vocals of Maiah Wynne.

The Next Four Years isn't the best record of the year, but it is the most honest--and sometimes that means so much more.

Despite the similarities, the record does not fall in The Soft Bulletin’s shadow. It is definitely the work of a veteran act that learned how to evolve their sound and incorporate the past into it too. Luckily, they have reached another high point in their volatile career, continuing to move forward.

Beneath the psychedelic bluster and cluttered production job, this is still mostly the same old Noel. The man's been doing one thing for most of his career, and continuing to do it well even post-Oasis.

Luckily, there’s enough good on this album to hide the negatives.

It's a whimsical exercise that allows the Melvins to test their limits with an agenda that pushes them to break away from typical patterns and artifices. Yet, even as they explore what it's like to take on the personas of their influences, the Melvins still manage to sound surprisingly natural throughout.

The Spark as Shikari-lite, a poppy album which forsakes the sound and fury which made the boys so interesting in the first place. But making the same album twice is anathema here, and the sound of the band isolating the human element and expanding it into their most beautiful, focused work to date is a wonder to behold.

Further focus is rewarded with a deeper experience, sadder and more upset than you might hear the first time.

Overall, Life Is Good is a cogent evolution in Flogging Molly's trademark Celtic folk sound and a welcome gift from a band celebrating their 20th anniversary this year.

Evan and co have set out on, their latest foray into the thicket may well be their most patient and under-dramatic to date. Organic and breathable are its tunes, blooming in real time with warm swirling arpeggios (Iodine) and the spindly swaying of oak and pine (Habitat).

Appaloosa Bones demonstrates that Gregory Alan Isakov remains standing as an essential voice in the folk scene.

The latest album by indie rock's stalwarts of subtle evolution and refinement will not disappoint those of us who always delighted in their hidden textures and atmospheres as much as barn-burning screamalongs; it is a resolutely peaceful affair, totally unconcerned with forcing drama or histrionics onto its gorgeous landscapes.

It may not inspire a revolution or magically fix the problems of the Trump administration, but it's a comforting and rewarding listen.

In the end, this is a very good, borderline excellent, album, weaving together a delicate atmosphere with well-crafted arrangements and (unsurprisingly) beautiful lyricism, but strokes of genius are few and far between.

To Drink From the Night Itself returns to the peak of At The Gates’ creative side by delving into a more moody, nuanced and diverse set of songs that shares more in common with their first few releases than the one everybody seems to remember. In the process, they very well may have released the best album in their history.

Overall, The Gaia II Space Corps is the most focused Motorpsycho album yet, crafting a truly cohesive listen from start to finish.

Synthetic synapses spark and crackle via the Boston 5-piece’s revered fusion of nu-metal revivalism and modern mathcore shenanigans, each track adding another glorious jerking movement to their macabre, digital death rattle.

Tremors finds time to be adventurous with its feet firmly planted on the ground; it moves maturely.

Aura pronounces the spirit of each piece very clearly, which is cause for gratitude; there’s enough weight to these eight intricate articulations of the ineffable that each offers a distinct glimpse at something ordinarily invisible and ultimately quite precious.

A lot of the gratification of this record is in the production, which takes the age-old hip-hop trick of taking a fractional melodic idea, barely a song by itself, and spinning out of it a thick sonic weave.

Reaching for Indigo transcends the traditional appeal of a singer-songwriter. Whenever Haley Fohr sings, it’s as if the instrumentation around her is momentarily frozen in time; quite the compliment for an album that surrounds her with so many uncommon vibrations.

On all counts, “Let’s Rock” succeeds in its mission. Hit the road, roll down the windows, and play it loud.

Strange Timez doesn’t break a whole lot of new ground, but it’s Damon Albarn’s strongest release since Plastic Beach and an infectious celebration of the unique legacy of Gorillaz.

At the end of the day, Parker proves good songwriting can hold the basis of a band’s sound, and despite the lack of guitar here, The Slow Rush does just that. It’s not as pristine as previous entries, but it certainly holds up Tame impala’s incredible reputation.

For now their debut release shows great promise, deftly combining the ferocity of punk with soul-baring lyricism.

Let's Start Here. is messy, ridiculous, admirable in its ambition and absolutely insane in its execution. If the albums you love are loved because you get tangled in the weeds with them, be absolutely baffled by them and come out wondering what the hell you liked about them, time to go in for another spin to find out? Then, hop up on the ride and keep those damn questions to yourself.

The record’s stylistically confused (and confusing) bookends prevent the project from being a straight dream pop homerun. Nonetheless, the bulk of The Last Thing Left is essential summer listening: don’t overthink it, just enjoy the vibes.

This is an album that might be best digested in smaller doses, in order to avoid the feeling that all these songs sort of just wash each other out--but there’s no denying that Blaqk Audio have stumbled onto something really entertaining here.

On the one hand, this is a record which sees Destroyer recalibrate their formula, quite successfully, to avoid any potential staleness in the fifth incarnation of their recent run. As such, it feels like a record that most, if not all, music fans with any interest in Destroyer could enjoy. On the flip side, this album also continues the trend that Have We Met began, accentuating Bejar’s idiosyncrasies in a more pronounced way than before.

Though it may not match its forebears’ ambition or near-flawless execution, the speculative and nostalgic centrifuge spinning like a catherine wheel at the heart of the record assures listeners of the usual cutting insights, by way of brazen bars and some of the finest storytelling of the group’s career.

Sunrise On Slaughter Beach is far from a perfect effort, but it’s good to have the merry band from Maryland back again regardless.

Grandaddy’s latest feels slightly remote but wholeheartedly nostalgic, the synthesis of deeply personal loneliness and some kind of cosmic greater meaning, and all three of my theories seem perfectly suitable. Weary but still imbued with plenty of heart, Blu Wav is all you can ask for as the return of Jason Lytle’s long-running indie project.

Modern folk fans take note; it’s not every day we get the pleasure of hearing such an accomplished debut.

In the end, Interplay feels like something of an incoherent mess if looked at with a microscope, but zoom a bit further out and it maintains enough of a “vibe” to feel at least somewhat cohesive, while also being a fun listen which should be even more enjoyable as the sun comes out and the temperature climbs.

Great albums don’t need to define a generation or open doors to other worlds, they just need to make great music--and Inquiry does exactly that. It’s a batch of quality pop songs--nothing more, nothing less.

There’s no delusion going on that Sum 41 have reinvigorated pop-punk, but Order In Decline certainly qualifies as a pleasant surprise. ... They’ve proven that there’s still something left in the tank.

Nothing feels forced, the tunes’ order plays like a summary of a night long DJ set that starts slow and ends at the crack of dawn with downtempo/trip hop. Some are highlights, others fly by making less of an impact, yet they are not throwaways. Despite being released as separate singles, the LP plays very well as a whole.