It's a shame that the sequencing and the overall flow isn't quite right, because in all other regards, this is a beautiful album to stick on and just drift away to--this is music of impressive texture and depth.

McMahon shows that he still has as firm of a grasp as ever on his unique brand of piano pop-rock, or whatever you’d want to classify it as. This album--while straightforward from a songwriting perspective--is just a collection of powerhouse pop tunes, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that when it’s executed to perfection like it is here.

Reachy Prints is yet another tedious exercise in modern IDM attempting to stay relevant, and failing to do a very good job of convincing us listeners that it is.

Every journey back to Meridian offers one more dazzling gem, shimmering in the music’s translucent waters just waiting to be discovered. Immerse yourself and become beautifully adrift.

Greenwood has pretty much stacked the chips up against himself by deciding to get involved in this album in the first place. There's no need for him to be seen as a competitor to any canonical composer at this point in his career, but by putting his works side-by-side with Penderecki's, he inadvertently puts himself in that light, and it leaves us with an album that tells us very little about his work that isn't obvious to anybody who knows how long he's been composing (young composer still learning his trade--gasp!), and nothing about Penderecki that we haven't already known for over forty years.

Her hit rate is a tad more consistent here than it was on Perfect Shapes. It won’t be the most memorable outing you hear this year, but if you’re reading this in anything approaching a wistful funk, there’s a decent chance Sucker’s Lunch might be exactly what your mood calls for.

Freed from the weight of being some kind of statement on a legacy impossible to define, and sans the walking-on-eggshells of the first CZARFACE/DOOM collab, Super What? looks more and more like three excellent rappers just chipping away in the studio, no expectations or external pressures.

There’s something here for every fan of his works, and it’s all executed concisely. More importantly, The Great Satan just brings that fun factor again, and frankly, that’s all you can ask for.

Phantom Island is King Gizz at their best producing yet another album that can not only be heralded for its precision and progression, but for once again showing how to take a bundle of diverse ingredients and transform them into a cohesive, intriguing, and overall fun experience, while remaining introspective and exploratory.

The Last Act of Defiance isn’t here to dazzle you with musicianship and diversity, it’s here to bludgeon in a way that only good hardcore can.

It’s the kind of music that nobody, perhaps not even Moderat themselves, expected from this record.

This is a laid-back kind of record, inclined towards porch sitting or walks in the wods. There’s still plenty of exceptional musicianship on display, though, with the guitar work remaining immensely appealing. In addition, despite the mellowness of the material and the seemingly-throwaway album title, Yay! can be surprisingly emotionally potent upon occasion.

Sarah and Josh have created a very well-written balance between depth and melody that sets them apart from many pop acts that are around today.

While it may not have that instant classic feel of Caution, it more than lives up to its older brothers in every way possible.

It's a case of every sound in its right place, every idea developed in a way that is thoughtful and skillfully executed at best and pretty at worst, every track clearing that rather translucent bar that separates “that was boring” from “that was nice”.

The Men have given up on trying any sort of innovation here, and instead seem to have set out to simply jam some rockin’ tunes at high volume. Call me a simple man, but yeah, it’s pretty great.

While the ceiling is low and the majority of So Close To What is annoyingly undercooked, there is still a lot of promise to be found. Tate and her team clearly have an ear for sticky melodies and the lack of necessary lore is appreciated, but there still is a very pervasive sense of figuring things out here.

There's enough brewing under the sedated surface to make Hvarf-Heim (and especially Hvarf) a satisfying listen.

Trouble is a brave step forward for a band unafraid to test its limits and a frontwoman unable to see any.

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.

Regina has basically mastered everything else too; it's hard to see her making a wrong move anytime soon.

It's the very definition of a grower, and this record has something Born to Die never had: more reflection.

It's just a sludgy, grumpy record from a band who once knew pop music needed whimsy.

What Do We Do Now is a smörgåsbord of everything we have come to expect from a J Mascis project, and while a multitude of listeners may find themselves clamoring for fresher ideas or a deviation from his tried-and-true formula, it is borderline impossible to listen to the indie rock legend’s latest output and deny that they got what they came for.

Yes, they still have a few kinks that need to be worked out--for instance, they need to address the game of musical chairs at lead guitarist--but a whole, The Afghan Whigs look just as unstoppable as they did in their prime.

The Drop Beneath is the first record of their career that truly feels like the start of something special.

At just over thirty-five minutes, the length of the album works to its advantage too, not overstaying its welcome as well as solidifying the fact that there's nothing exceptionally challenging about In Evening Air.

The great thing about Red is that Dia had a hand in writing every song, and it's that personal stamp that allows the album to appeal to longtime fans despite its musical direction.