Even by Isbell’s lofty standards, Weathervanes is a big swing, and the band hits a home run.

Eight boasts too many potential singles to be written off as another wishful reunion. The record proves that they’re not only back but also thriving.

While it might not be her most eclectic work, Chemistry grapples with this condition in the most human ways.

The Good Witch isn’t just a breakup album with attitude and vigor. It’s a continuing saga of what it means to be a 20-something female musician in an era where people come of age on social media, which can be toxic and empowering at once.

On Formal Growth in the Desert, Protomartyr have ever-so-subtly evolved their sound into something not quite mellow and not quite as expansive as its titular reference – and yet also not as claustrophobically volatile as previous efforts. It’s something gloriously in between.

The less you know about how unfun Bognanno’s life sounds like it’s been while she wrote and recorded Lucky for You, the more pleasure there is to be had here.

Produced by Tassa and Greenwood and mixed by Nigel Godrich, Jarak Qaribak (translating from Arabic as “Your Neighbor Is Your Friend”) constantly and refreshingly brings together a variety of styles – not just in terms of country of origin but also eras and genres.

A selectively expanded instrumentation that enhances, rather than negates, the sentiments of Monterey. This record is the culmination of the band’s work up until this point, and it is as transcendent in sound and feeling as it was in the process.

There’s plenty of variety in what El Michel’s Affair and Black Thought are doing, keeping what could be a static-sounding record fresh and exciting.

Guy is an admirable and occasionally affecting project that balances personal vulnerabilities with uplifting and life-affirming music.

A rollicking experience from start to finish, Tomorrow Never Comes shows once again why Rancid are so fondly regarded.

Bands can stretch themselves and grow without going off on tangents or completely overhauling their signature sound. Some that have mastered this are now considered institutions, and Versions of Us puts Lanterns on the Lake in a position to join those ranks.

MICHAEL is a terrific work from Killer Mike. Personal, spiritual, revelatory, open, proud, triumphant, and above all else, undeniable, unshakeable, and fiercely independent.

With ten tracks and roughly 35 minutes, Heaven Is a Junkyard is beautifully executed from a musical standpoint, with Powers’ piano and synthesizer often providing a bright and cheerful counterpoint to the dark lyrics at hand.

What Matters Most ends up being a mixed bag. Musically, this is a strong record. .... As much as I like Ben Folds, though, hearing him come back with a new pair of songs about women who are borderline crazy is disheartening, and it casts a pall over the rest of the album. Some longtime fans might not have that same visceral reaction, and they’ll probably enjoy What Matters Most more than I did.

Spread out across three continents, the Amatssou team has nonetheless created a tight and exciting package of assouf (the term Tinariwen often uses for their music, translating to “nostalgia”). Tinariwen link Nashville and North Africa in ways well suited to a definition of outlaw country that includes their rebellious rock.

Though Space Heavy is more emotionally preoccupied than its predecessors, Krule hasn’t lost his assured, inventive style.

The singer-songwriter sees herself and others with a well-trained eye but doesn’t always reveal what she has learned. She needs to step outside of herself more lest she not realize the significance of what her emotions are telling her.

You have to give kudos to anybody doing their best to circumvent blueprints and well-trodden paths. They’re really good at it too! So if this album doesn’t resonate quite like the one before, blame it on the difficulty of the assignment than the execution.

If Bunny has a fault, it is in the way it is so poised and delicately produced that it sometimes sounds like it should be behind glass. Ultimately, though, it succeeds at the none-too-easy task of providing plenty of familiar pleasures in the present while making one curious about where Payseur might take Beach Fossils in the future.

It has gorgeous moments that replace silence by reorganizing the background sounds of everyday life, which is arguably what all music should do. With Romantic Piano, Gia Margaret has perfected her voice.

Brown and Amos have intelligence to burn. Everyone’s Crushed soundtracks our present frenzied moment in new ways, portending a mutual future neither bright nor grim but, like this band, is inescapably singular.

Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd is a 16-track, 78-minute album, and some of it will lose even her most ardent fans. Track eight is where it regains itself through the extended metaphor of “Kintsugi”: a Japanese term for a pottery repair technique that calls attention to the crack rather than hides it. .... [After “Margaret”] There are three more tracks, though.

Not everything lands with equal force, but what does land reminds you of the treasure that Graham Nash has been and continues to be in the ongoing narrative of rock music.

The answer is there is no answer until perhaps it is too late. He’s not the first person to come to that conclusion. The value of Simon’s record lies in its pondering of life’s mysteries.

In London Ko, Diawara uses a broader sonic palette than her earlier music and generally dials up the amplitude. While the music aims to move your body, its Bambara lyrics are also meant to move your spirit.

Anyone coming to RP Boo or footwork in general via this release needs to be prepared to have their bones rearranged and their senses overloaded.

My Soft Machine unfolds respectably, proficiently, even likable, yet not particularly memorably.