There isn't a weak moment here, not even a middling one. Auerbach's Easy Eye Sound is forging a unique path into the future of blues, one artist and one impeccable track after another.

Shows a refreshing rawness that was absent before.

Ultimately, Fever to Tell might be slightly disappointing, but it delivers slightly more than an EP's worth of good to great songs, proving that even when they're uneven, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are still an exciting band.

The Ugly Organ is greater than the sum of its parts, with tracks that flow into one another seamlessly in spite of the wildly varying tempo and stylistic changes, not surprisingly like a classical piece in that regard.

Wind's Poem strikes a balance between accessibility and ambition that offers something for every kind of Elverum fan, but never sacrifices its purpose in the process.

Crushing is riveting right from the spare, noir-tinged opening track, "Body," which remembers the moment Jacklin decided to leave the relationship after her partner got them thrown off a flight.

The Path of the Clouds was constructed by Nadler sending frameworks of songs to long-distance collaborators; Seth Manchester (Lightning Bolt, Battles, METZ) later mixed the album after judiciously adding feedback and distorted guitars. These adjustments perfectly suit the album's epic, aching songs, which refuse to keep tragedy at arm's length.

Where previous outings like This Night and Streethawk: A Seduction mined the '70s for inspiration, 2011's Kaputt utilizes '80s sophisti-pop, New Romantic, Northern soul, and straight-up adult contemporary to deliver a flawed but fascinating record.

[Everything Hits at Once] proves there are few bands more adept at giving the venerable best-of compilation a refresh.

King Gizzard are restless and brilliant and listeners must follow everything they do like a hawk because they might unleash something classic, just like they did with Ice, Death, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms and Lava.

Yonder Is the Clock is the band's most nuanced effort to date, an effortless piece of Catskills folk and narrative know-how that shows just how far a band can grow in one year's time.

While this effort may not be Welch's surprise transformation into a full-on pop diva, Dance Fever is a generous offering to the goddesses of dance and restorative energy.

While the first ten songs would have made for a strong return on their own, the final three put Second Chance over the top as one of the year's best R&B albums.

While The Living Infinite is certainly a whole lot of record, it's filled with enough vigor and creativity that it doesn't feel as though it's dragging along.

With 17 incredibly complex songs clocking in at almost an hour, the San Fermin listening experience is a commitment, but one that rewards greatly.

Any Human Friend sounds sleeker and more polished than Hackman's previous releases, but at the same time it takes the playfully libidinous tone of I'm Not Your Man and cranks it up a few levels.

These songs are crafted in the best sense of the word, with the lyrics delivering sublime twists that the music matches. As such, Mental Illness becomes something of a balm for troubled times; it's an album that finds reassurance within the darkest corners.

In the vein of Kevin Rowland or Elvis Costello, Ted Leo writes lyrical rock songs that sprawl out and rarely depend on a chorus.

It's a resolutely lively and slightly dazed exploration of misshapen pop forms.

If Big Day in a Small Town occasionally feels like nothing more than a collection of great songs that don't quite gel into a larger picture, that's a minor complaint: songs rarely come much better than these.

The Age of Immunology is an idealistic, impressionistic rebuke to Brexit and the other xenophobic movements of the late 2010s. ... On The Age of Immunology, they set this message to beguiling, fantastical soundscapes that are as welcoming as they are unusual.

Balances the adventurous and traditional sides of Tiersen's music in a way that honors the sense of wonder and beauty in his work since the beginning.

Starmaker is a subtle, yet quietly powerful record that feels like it's been hiding in your record collection for decades, just waiting for the right rainy day to make itself known.

Treasure of Love isn't a pathbreaking masterpiece for the Flatlanders, but that's not the sort of album they were likely to make at this point in their lives. Instead, it's an affirmation of their friendship and their love of music, and if you've ever cared about any or all of the group members, this will make you very happy.

The end result is vast and ambitious yet deliberately welcoming. Its many sounds and rhythms greet listeners wherever they are and compel them to invest in an altogether wondrous sonic journey for body, mind, and soul.

Her lilting, rough-hewn cadence carries with it the weight, strength, and spry humor of her homeland, and her storytelling rings true and grounded, even at its most mystic and confounding.

While it doesn't always reach Sinning's heights, the deeper sexuality, deeper grooves, and deeper understanding Daniel seeks and finds on Is It Going to Get Any Deeper Than This? make it a triumph in its own right.