Only by placing the music in the context of David Bowie's death has that roadblock been removed--something I'm quite certain was deliberate on the part of the artist, as musical context so often is. And once that context is realized, so is the dark beauty of Blackstar.

Experience may be a cruel messenger, but Daughter’s success comes not from pulling away, but from embracing that. In doing so, Not to Disappear comes out the other side, not beaten and lost but vibrant and alive.

Strings, masses of fans, and stadium-size choruses make up the patchwork for the majority of this album; the end result is pretentious and overblown, but that doesn’t stop This Is War from succeeding--well, for the most part anyway.

Brimming with the caustic darkness of his later material, the album feels wholly new while still featuring the same haggard nihilism that Wrest is known for.

There’s rhyme to their reason, and the album’s flow is dictated with confidence rather than precarious doubt. The whole thing is refreshing, and Black Rivers’ willingness to experiment is a trait that will definitely resonate with you following the album’s conclusion.

Swallow the Sun should have released this as three separate albums. The connection between the three pieces is frail, and given the relative lack of direction this is not a surprise. The album’s strengths are numerous, yet scattered, and its weaknesses are unfortunately a lot more concentrated.

Subtly exploring pop, soul and contemporary R&B, the nineteen year old recalls everyone from Lauryn Hill to Alicia Keys, and Lorde to Rihanna, on this thirty-five minute record... Often within the same song!

It has moments of genius (‘Grand Canyon’, ‘The Remedy’) as well as questionable missteps (‘Simultaneous’).

Though this isn't Maserati at their finest hour, it shows the engine is still running and possesses a lot of potential too. Their universe expanded with VII and Rehumanizer successfully brings all those influences together.

Fading Frontier’s signature is focus though, and it’s evident in the concise and tightly controlled songwriting.

At some point or another, we all feel as though the electricity of our existence is being trapped in a confined space, waiting to break loose. The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us pops the lid, vigorously releasing that energy into the atmosphere. It’s liberating.

Despite its frustratingly monadic nature Howl does hold attention.

The quintet still perform pop-punk better than many of their contemporaries, and it should be noted that this LP sounds significantly more effective when played out loud, rather than through head or earphones... But it’s difficult to ignore the feeling that they are capable of better.

An Atreyu record is still very much about the feel, and this definitely feels like it's one of their own. Any of these songs could easily fit in alongside the material they have put out since 2006.

Unfortunately, it’s an LP which simply lacks reward... Both for listeners and, ultimately, the band.

Although the new album is a solid affair and a step up in tightness/structure, it needed that previous edge to be truly compelling.

Deciphering the message in her words relies on just how much time the listener is willing to devote to the album, but with music this brilliant, the task seems all the more alluring.

Every Open Eye proves Chvrches to be a band that hones in on its strengths, develops them, and uses those strengths to consistently release quality material.

What Silversun Pickups have done is settle into a sweet spot. It might not sit well with everyone involved, but it takes nothing away from what this is: a gorgeous if slightly safe album that proves this band hasn’t lost their edge when it comes to making captivating music.

The melodies just aren’t flowing and the choruses are rarely memorable. The instrumentation is lacking to say the least, and their brand new ideas are questionable at best. There’s absolutely no lyrical, emotional, or musical substance.

The point is to not look at What a Time to Be Alive as any sort of triumph of ambition and music, but rather as a solid assortment of irresistable bangers from two artists for whom that shit comes easy. It's not the accomplishment, it's the victory lap.

Polaris is well-produced (even if the bass is dialed in several clicks too high), decently written, and properly executed for what it is. Critically speaking, however, it takes few musical risks and fails to launch any sort of vocal or instrumental melody, relegating it to a position as the sort of album you could take or leave in an artist's discography.

As gorgeous a Ryan Adams record as anything in his own catalog.