Although she is a great poet and lyricist, a little restraint would help in these situations. Seeds is still a great record nonetheless, and shows Muldrow hasn't yet lost focus since Umsindo.

Wide-ranging and full of thoughtful lyricism focused on the passage of time, life, and death, This Stupid World is exactly the album I’d hoped Yo La Tengo could and would release in 2023. Even if this record remains a step below the band’s defining releases, it’s a strong contender for their best outing in over two decades.

Sadness Sets Me Free is a truly consistent affair, one of the most pleasant Gruff presented us to date.

Desire is an amazing record the story of Monch and his recording career is admirable in its own right.

There's enough fun, intelligent rock n roll to give anyone their Hold Steady fix but in context of their discography, and with a little bit of prodding, this is something grander.

Back To Black is by far the best popular soul album I’ve heard this year.

Fantastic songs that have an uncanny ability to lodge their way firmly into your head.

Introducing Joss Stone has the sound of an artist who is beginning to go places, not of one coming from somewhere or standing still.

The energy and personality which flood out of every melody give this album its own stamp of authority.

The overarching takeaway from Get Sunk, at least for me, is a reminder that few musicians can write a better sad sack meditation.

Hush not only breaks down new barriers for the band, but more importantly, is just a pleasure to listen to.

Blue Raspberry sees some extremely slight but thoughtful experimentation from Kirby. A playfulness that, on the one hand, gives greater depth to Kirby's music—or otherwise make that depth more obvious to the shallow listener—but also, on the other, reemphasises to you—to me—just how good, how delicate, how thoughtful a songwriter Kirby really is at her core.

They’re some decisive stuff, yet tend to leave the listener strangely alleviated, especially the title track: it’s the perfectly weird, yet high-energy song to get anyone out of their bedroom. That is, when they return to listen to this album again, of course.

This album is Madeline’s garden, a flourishing melodic/electronic progression from Night Night’s straightforward indie-pop, and a shell-shattering statement of confidence to boot. Kenney has come into full bloom, and Perfect Shapes will forever capture that moment.

When the last few tracks roll around, it becomes clear that Tobacco and Aes are sticking with the same formula for the album’s duration. Tobacco will gradually layer more variously-filtered keys, Aes will find something to chant for the chorus, and then some distorted vocals will close the track out. Two albums of this might get tiring, but for 34 minutes, it works perfectly despite the predictability.

It all combines to create a very particular aesthetic, perfect for late night drives or dank smoke sessions, and the album doesn't have any higher ambitions than perfectly fitting these particular situations.

This is unsettled music for an unsettled era, the kind of songs which can sometimes make you feel euphoric and sometimes make you feel down-hearted (sometimes even both at the same time). Through it all, though, these tunes are the sonic equivalent of living, breathing, human warmth.

That decision to expand their sound and focus more on the links between where they were and where they want to go is the true treat of Happy to You.

The production quality does most of the work here, because when you listen, everything seems relatively simple. And that’s not a bad thing by any means.

These aren't ferocious songs and they aren't always playing with everything on the forefront, and it's compelling to see that; the band has rounded up the edges of their songs and put them into the ground.

Gossamer is huge, bombastic, and all over the place, spraying synths and outsized choruses like confetti over some deranged future-pop festival.

Super Taranta! is easily the group’s most accomplished effort to date, and an exciting prospect of things to come.

That an album can match enjoyment with artistic merit in a year that has largely seen albums go one way or another is a joy in itself.

Between the organic and artificial sounds found in Actor, St. Vincent’s voice melts the two clashing styles into a divinely pleasurable experience.

None of these songs are entitled to be the album's best and none of them work towards anything other than creating the quiet, gloomy album that it is. And yet there's so much of this focus given to each song.

Kala is definitely a song-based album, but, that being said, the songs fit together perfectly, and even more surprisingly, they’re all good.

Widowspeak’s greatest accomplishment is maintaining that same sense of simmering, uncertain wonder over the course of one wonderfully blurry album.

Chinese Democracy is comfortably the most consistent record the band have put out since "Appetite For Destruction," and proof the ginger midget can put out genuinely great rock music without the blonde giant and the black guy.