Are The Roaring Night brings the Montreal group’s potential down to earth, expanding what were sweeping, almost classical compositions into gut-wrenching, prog-y panoramas. A lot of the same cerebral, chamber-music-meets-guitar-wash elements are still there; they’re just a bit beefier this time.

More or less adapting his own approach to sound with the sonic atmosphere and materials provided to him by the filmmakers, he managed to create a work that, guided by their vision, ties a satisfying knot between the two disparate ends of his catalog. Lacking the singularly textual and conceptual punch of his recent work, it’s both a practice in versatility and a sign that there’s still something of an enigma to Oneohtrix Point Never after all these years.

It is a delicate alchemy of tight metronomic grooves and carefully parsed instrumental interplay, to the point where nothing steals the show.

It's unfortunate that 13 & God neither succeeds nor fails.

A journey into their liberated, tie-dyed consciousness and their best project to date.

Everything about Everything is Love feels superficial, from the artists’ constant pronouncement of their love for each other to their engagement with topics like fashion, art, watches (this gets its own category), social issues, how great their friends are, sports, and, indeed, their own lives. The most boring aspect of the album is its centerpiece: the couple’s obsession with their wealth.

Assume Form, at its center, feels like genre gloop spread over toast: good but too-easily digested. Sometimes it cloys. Sometimes it gets you through the day.

If you are looking for light-as-air indie rock doused in melancholy, you won't do better than We, The Vehicles.

The album is too overbearing to be much fun and too paint-by-the-numbers to feel dangerous.

If this isn't the album you are blaring out of your car all summer long, you aren't having enough fun.

It’s comprised largely of several years of demos and “field recordings” and collected samples and experiments and improvisations. Perhaps that’s why it feels so novel at the precipice of a new decade; after 10(+) years of failed political experiments and improvisations, here’s a new songbook stripped of the arrogance and pretense of capitalist evangelism.

The music is often awesomely original.

While Toxic City Music hints at alienation, it never succumbs to it.

If you're a fan of the rock and the roll and the denim and the Rolling Rock, then snatch this record up tout de suite.

All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone isn’t the band reinventing themselves. Instead, you’ll have to settle for Explosions in the Sky perfecting their craft, which is nice to hear regardless of genre.

Give The People What They Want is an especially bright new feather in the cap. It’s towering, tempestuous, addictive, and available in a beautiful shade of marbled blue. Maybe we don’t deserve it, but it’s here to own us just the same.

As something along the lines of throwing an old Pink Panther soundtrack in a blender with a copy of Reason 3, every track on Denies The Day is a scene from a different film you can't quite remember seeing.

Overall, a handful of great songs, no clunkers, and one absolute classic is more than should be expected of any album.

DS2 finds a hellish, motivating power by articulating how it’s possible to have the best time of your life during the worst time of your life. And it all sounds so good.

It's like an audiobook with the best music ever featured in the medium.

With 16 thoroughly-developed tracks, clocking in at a little under an hour, Infiniheart is a tedious listen. Though its moments of faltering are few, it's a lot to digest.

Dee's lyrics consistently reveal a formidable intelligence and a deep and deeply-felt cultural repertoire.

Beyond Belief is at its best when exploring the conflict beneath.

It is an album of specks dancing in the dust in an amorphous bubble of babble and bawling thoughts, yearning to be unthought.

Like an imagined conversation set before the waves, Still Trippin’ folds and unfolds. It is still unsettled, in me and out.

The greatest aspect of Tournament of Hearts is Bry Webb's singing. His voice convinces you of the truth of the emotion and power of his songs.

It’s a party album, which means it’s utopian. It’s a solo album, which means it’s rebooting. “Next Level Charli” doesn’t sound like a version we’ve never heard before; it sounds like the very same, not even accelerated but integrated, at 100% synchronization rate.

This music on this self-titled release is perfectly and tightly composed and arranged.