Wiggle Your Fingers' ten songs are canny and beautifully executed pastiches of West Coast soft rock, sunshine pop, jangle pop, and polished psychedelia, and he's even moved forward enough to add a dash of new wave to the formula, as evidenced in the slightly angular keyboards on "Second Chance" and the power-pop crunch of "The Dropouts."

Beam has done this kind of thing before, but he seems to be digging a little deeper lyrically here, while crafting arrangements that are truly lush and lovely, better than any on previous Iron & Wine albums. That's a high bar, but he soars over it with plenty of room to spare, and in the end Light Verse turns out to be one of the most enjoyable, varied, and well-crafted of the band's records.

Clark has more than earned the freedom she gives herself to express so many different sides to her music, and it's a thrill to hear her stretch out on these ferocious, heartbroken, and ultimately life-affirming songs.

The first half verges on sluggish -- the call to "Release the pressure -- big, big fun" comes across as unenthusiastic, maybe even sarcastic -- but most of the songs do have an alluring quality. There's considerably more verve and buoyancy to the second half.

While the feelings here are melodramatic and overexpressed, sometimes to the point of ridiculousness, this also has some of Swift’s best work, and much of the best pop music ever made.

It's rough-around-the-edges fun, with the warmth of familiarity and kinship that Neil Young & Crazy Horse have built by playing together for more than half a century.

Hawkwind still sound like themselves and nobody else on Stories from Time and Space, and if it doesn't break new ground, it's the work of a band with interesting ideas and the talent and imagination to make something of them, which not many groups can manage, let alone one that's been doing this for more than half a century.

Final Summer is another strong album from a remarkably consistent band, but it's the wisdom, maturity, and joy Cloud Nothings bring to it makes it an especially satisfying listen.

Jim White is undoubtedly a masterful musician, but All Hits: Memories never quite gets off the ground, and it feels like the type of record that might be of interest to fellow drummers but will have limited appeal for anyone else.

It's a richly orchestrated, superbly crafted effort that veers between several different emotional states before its time is up.

Most bands don't sound as fresh, confident, and willing to take chances three decades into their career as the Old 97's do on American Primitive; they've quietly but firmly matured into one of America's best roots rock acts.

Blue Eclipse is fully realized, a 12-track, groove-intensive set that's so smooth and delicious it's a top candidate for the summer soundtrack of 2024.

Time will tell if Lavers is snatched up for work in scoring or if he will develop his songwriting on future albums, but based on this under-30-minute taste, his handiwork seems destined for continuation.

Unlike such fine latter-day Hunter albums like Shrunken Heads, there's not a driving theme behind Defiance, but there doesn't need to be. The fact that Hunter can sound this tuneful, sharp, and engaged when he's well into his eighties is a triumph worth celebrating.

Rife with moments of artfully sustained anticipation, Orchestras is one of Frisell's most accessible and virtuosic recordings.

The Other Side is one of T-Bone Burnett's warmest and most emotionally resonant works, and if it's less ambitious than the Invisible Light albums, it's a powerful example of what he does best as a songwriter, a vocalist, and a producer.

At times, the mood is so sustained that the album resembles one slowly evolving song. At its finest, though, Dream Talk is an alluring reminder of the power of visions and fantasies from a group that's mastered how to bring them to life.

Rose is arguably still at her best on the more intimate balladry, such as on album highlights "Dusty Frames," with its rippled, watery effects, and the brittlely resilient title track. Nothing here, though, is a misfire, as Rose deftly navigates these new approaches.

Dark Matter is streamlined and purposeful, never overstaying its welcome on either the ballads or rockers. While that can be a slight detriment with on the album's loudest number--combined, the sleek sound and concise compositions give the faintest suggestion of restraint--the efficiency is ultimately to the band's benefit, highlighting their empathetic interplay by pushing melodies and hooks to the forefront.

Tarantula Heart's five tracks contain more than an album's worth of weirdness and power. It's a wild ride, even for the Melvins, and further solidifies their status as seemingly invincible practitioners of heavy, messed-up music.

Ohio Players isn't the most frantic celebration the Black Keys have delivered, but more than enough of it will get your body moving that it qualifies as a success.

Rampen contrasts Neubauten's hard and soft sides, recalling the spontaneity and inventive instrumentation of their beginnings, but framing them in a more mature and hopeful perspective.

Our Brand Could Be Yr Life may not be the group's most exciting album (Endless Scroll) or their most immediate (Broken Equipment likely gets that nod), but it is the one fans are likely to go back to more often as it provides the richest, best-sounding release they've had so far.

The eponymous 2024 debut album from South African singer Tyla showcases her vibrant pop, R&B, Afrobeat, and rhythmic amapiano dance style.

Up on Gravity Hill is a significant step forward for a group that already was doing mighty work, and it suggests any number of places they could take their talents next. Anyone who doubts METZ are one of North America's best bands needs to hear Up on Gravity Hill and find out what they've been missing.

The album was produced by if i could make it go quiet's Matias Tellez (AURORA, Gracie Abrams), whose colorful, high-contrast approach bolsters the lyrical frankness of the onetime bedroom pop artist, who, true to her origins, keeps the ten-song set's playing time under 30 minutes.

Maggie Rogers embraces her creative and emotional independence on her third album, 2024's nervy and candid Don't Forget Me.

These tunes, as rendered, are far more complex in arrangement and presentation than they appear. Combined, they reveal the artist's pursuit of creative excellence as an aesthetic practice with a spiritual dimension.

One Deep River doesn't necessarily break new ground for Knopfler, but it does add a clutch of well-written, impeccably played songs to his canon.

It revisits familiar electro-pop territory while upping the anguish and explicit content. Essentially a set of danceable power ballads about people who get past the bouncer at the club ("You'll never f*ck somebody hotter"), it may have some cringy, bratty lyrics at first listen (catch also "Joyride"'s anthemically delivered "You were in my dreams/Now I’m in your bed"), but, supported by performances, the raw vulnerability is the point.

Artful cynicism comes easy to intelligent twenty-somethings, but in your mid- to late fifties, life's consequences add some depth to your perspective, and that's a big part of what makes Who Will You Believe so rich and rewarding.

Even though her lyrics can be a bit on-the-nose at times, she's always sincere, and her best songs are fully relatable. No one else is making jungle that's this introspective while staying true to the genre's sound system roots, sounding raw enough to ignite a rave yet catchy enough for the radio.

An album that is at times campy, earnestly romantic, and endlessly listenable. Part of the fun and endearing aspect of Gray's turn towards '80s Euro-pop is just how well he and his production partners captured the studio textures and anthemic energy of the genre.

If the individual songs don't quite differentiate themselves, that's not precisely a detriment, as King is on an explicit interior journey, ensuring that his music mimics his moods. He doesn't avoid darkness, but he chooses not to wallow, finding instead a measure of peace in the emotional expression itself.

It finds the rap luminaries more or less staying in their respective lanes. Metro Boomin's beats are typically cold and ominous yet lustrous, and Future sticks to familiar subjects such as drugs, sex, and luxury fashion.

While the Libertines still haven't fully seized the opportunity to define what they could be as veterans instead of upstarts, All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade still sounds more like the product of a working band than Anthems for Doomed Youth did, and offers enough good and great moments to keep fans believing.

Bob and weave as he might, Harcourt never fails to land an emotional punch on El Magnifico.

Six years after Whack World, Whack has only grown more accomplished at contrasting brightly colored surfaces and what lies beneath them.

This is one creatively askew pop-R&B delight after another, all voiced with captivating and confident flair by a razor-sharp songwriter.

Even though they lighten the mood ever so slightly with "Lip Sync," a collage of detached vocals and lurching blasts that's the closest they've come to a pop song, every moment angeltape announces Drahla as a band worthy of far more attention.

Though there are a few more abstract pieces -- like the brief, scattered "Got Me" -- as a whole, The Sunset Violent focuses on impressionistic snapshots and daydream-like reflections. It's easily the most unified record Mount Kimbie has produced, especially in stark contrast to their previous effort.

Only God Was Above Us isn't just a great album in its own right -- it's one that enriches the understanding of Vampire Weekend's entire history.

Weaver's songs still sound beamed in from distant galaxies, but here she seems to be coming to grips with the feeling that love and loss are more universal than she thought, even when happening on planets far from Earth.

Exotic Birds of Prey sounds like it's broadcasting live from an unknown galaxy, giving us an idea of what music will sound like on other planets in the future while nodding knowingly to some of Earth's most exciting sounds of the past.

A LA SALA is Khruangbin's most stripped-down effort since their debut, but it isn't threadbare, and fans of the group should find it worthwhile.

Like Deacon before it, Grip suggests serpentwithfeet's confessions and declarations can take many forms, and its light, limber songs don't sacrifice any of his innovation or soul-baring.

While Echo Dancing is uneven, the hits outnumber the misses by a margin that qualifies this as a successful experiment.

Moves in the Field is more Philip Glass than John Cage (in fact, Glass' longtime engineer Dan Bora recorded and mixed the album), with Moran's thoughtful writing and restrained use of what could have been show-stopping technology creating an insulated world of understated, wintery elegance.

The amount of courage and skill on display is massive and apart from a few times where he falls off the high wire -- mainly when the balance tips too far to the inward-looking lyrically or he strays too close to played out trap territory -- this reboot just might win the band some new fans, while shedding none who have stayed the course thus far.

Gary Clark Jr.'s catalog shows he has the talent, intelligence, and vision to make a grand scale musical statement out of any style he chooses, and JPEG RAW only reinforces that notion; he's been creating some of the boldest and most interesting guitar-based music of his time, and this is as exciting and rewarding as anyone could hope.

If this isn't Shook's best album to date, it's very close.

Maybe Chastity Belt aren't always laughing and loving on this album, but the music is alive and eloquent, and this is a welcome return from an interesting, consistently rewarding quartet.

There are two expertly executed albums here, each highlighting just how this group has grown from being rascally jokesters to hardened, concerned members of society. As far as swan songs go, Heaven :x: Hell is a heartfelt goodbye to fans, an overly generous gift that aims to please the full spectrum of diehards and thank them for all their years of dedication.

While it won’t be able to please everyone, that’s not the point: this is an intensely personal statement about reclamation, belonging, and legacy, celebrating the past with hopes of changing the future. One can only hope Act III finds Bey going full rock.

On the whole, Interplay is interesting but inconsistent, landing more like a collection of ideas being fleshed out than a cohesive album experience. Ultimately, it's commendable that Ride continue to reach beyond their past, but the best moments of Interplay are the ones that remind the listener what made the band so unique to begin with.

The vibe is familiar but the sound is fresh and, better still, Evolution isn't ponderous: it's brisk and bright, keeping its focus squarely on the gifts that brought Crow into the Rock Hall.

The Sky Will Still Be There Tomorrow stands as one of his best late-career master works.

While arguably Sam Evian's strongest set of songs yet, he's nothing if not consistent, and Plunge sits well alongside project debut Premium (2016) while at the same time offering something a little "more so" thanks to a live-in-studio recording philosophy that shunned headphones and playback and kept overdubs to a minimum.

El Perro del Mar stares into chasms of being and nonbeing on Big Anonymous, calmly dictating back the horrors and revelations she sees in a steady voice.

This is an essential entry in Coltrane's catalog and a remarkable kick-off to Impulse's "Year of Alice."

Even more than any music that came before it, this album highlights Rosali's unique voice, one that communicates full-hearted intensity without ever resorting to heavy-handedness or overstatement.

Whether it's the caressing connectedness of "Evening Mood" or the air of pensive devotion on "Who Brings Me," this emotional immediacy makes Something in the Room She Moves an exciting and affecting addition to Holter's body of work.

On Real Power, Gossip don't try too hard to recapture the past or fit in with the sound of the sound of the 2020s, and that's what makes it a dignified, down-to-earth return.

Skip the dogs, stick to the weird, raw, and experimental songs and Glasgow Eyes might be considered one of the band's best albums in a very long time. Add them back and it makes for a frustrating and exhilarating listening experience that's brutally honest, completely ridiculous, and in some ways it sums up everything good and bad about the Jesus and Mary Chain all on one slab of plastic.

When the final piano twinkles of the heartbreaking ballad "Última" close the first half, the album shifts to mixtape mode with the flood of additional hits that pack the back end, making Las Mujeres Ya No Lloran a great two-for-one set that is essentially a short new album and a de facto "Greatest Hits 2022-2024."

For a band that often got lost in a hippie haze, this all-business approach pays off great dividends: it's easy to hear how the Robinsons are ideal collaborators, tempering each other's excesses and accentuating their shared love for the best of classic rock.

Some of the tracks on Three cover similar territory, but overall, the album is much more tightly focused than the abstract yet personal Sixteen Oceans.

Akoma represents another impressive step in Jlin's remarkable evolution as an artist.

Tigers Blood is the rarest of things: an album that feels familiar upon its surface and idiosyncratic in its details.

Bright Future is the type of no-filter album with enough variety and poignancy that each song is bound to be somebody's favorite.

Like the open-ended, amorphous production, the tunes all accentuate the record's general thrust of interior contentment. Musgraves, along with her regular collaborators Daniel Tashian and Ian Fitchuk, do manage to capture and sustain this delicate sensibility, creating a record that's every bit as pretty and memorable as gentle afternoon rain.

ScHoolboy Q flexes just how easy his craft is for him throughout Blue Lips, switching his styles without blinking while telling some of his most difficult truths.

Girl Friends isn't a great Dion album, but it's certainly a good one, and worth a spin for anyone who digs the Pride of the Bronx. He's still got it, and you can hear it on Girl Friends.

Some focus and editing would have really helped because there's a great album buried somewhere in here.

This is a return to the epic 12-minute suites of releases like Truant and Rival Dealer, flashing back to some of the same samples and themes. Second side "Boy Sent from Above" is the more soul-searching of the two, with lonely vocals calling out from the fog of vinyl crackle and spray can shaking.

Letter to Yu's thoughtful sincerity seems far removed from the biting sarcasm of Pupul's acclaimed work with Charlotte Adigéry, but it's just as emotionally potent and artistically creative.

While at this point there's some unavoidable self-awareness to their craft, it does nothing to take away from the exhilarating fun and lawless excitement of the album.

Here everything feels like a copy of something that had already been done better by another band. In the end, there's little to no reason to pull this record out instead of Siamese Dream or Nothing's Shocking. Or the other three Meatbodies albums, which have all the oddball thrills and unique perspective Flora Ocean Tiger Bloom seems to have lost along the bumpy journey to completion.

Eternal Sunshine is Grande in peak form, a magical maturation that is elevated, resilient, and confidently restrained.

The ever-shifting tone of Speak to Me asks the listener to keep up with the Lage's quirks and mood swings, but the sum of its parts is quite dazzling.

While Dabice and Mannequin Pussy might be worried that their destructive Dark Phoenix energy is too much to take, I Got Heaven is an album of apocalyptic rock & roll bliss.

Though she's never been a hesitant or unfocused artist, listening to Gordon come into her own on The Collective is a wonder, especially because she's not remaking herself to stay relevant -- it's the rest of the music and pop culture world finally catching up to her.

Bleachers occasionally borders on indulgent, but its tangents and loose ends are part and parcel of Antonoff's process -- and part of what makes it such a complete self-portrait.

Her concentration on an especially brutal historical subject makes it one of her most bracing works, and it becomes more compelling and powerful with increased intention and awareness.

Visions is clear and light, its textures vividly articulated and its rhythms mellow and fluid. It's music that feels alive, inhaling and exhaling with a gentle insistence; it's never rushed, never clipped.

There's no denying the sensibilities of Liam Gallagher & John Squire lie in 20th century guitar rock, but there's a freshness in how the duo's sensibilities intertwine that gives the record a warm, welcoming pulse.

A revelatory experience that's somehow been hidden within her all these years, Girl with No Face is a bold reclamation of artistic self from a thrilling pop auteur.

Yeat's creative drive is admirable, but unfortunately 2093 just doesn't live up to its lofty concept.

Scope Neglect is a disorienting, sometimes deceptive work, but it's thrilling in the way it dismantles genre tropes.

Focus on Nature is thoroughly pleasing and beautifully crafted, the sort of album Saloman's cult following will delight in while those new to his work will wonder where his somber joy has been all their lives.

While Kaiser Chiefs aren't starting many riots these days, these shiny tunes will keep the body bouncing and the spirits high.

Half Divorced is Pissed Jeans' chosen form of therapy for folks who really, REALLY don't like Mondays. Or most of the rest of the week.

With Playing Favorites, Sheer Mag have made an excellent rock & roll album, and yes, sometimes that is all you need.

The appeal in this refurbished soft rock lies in the atmosphere and supple interplay, how the musicians twist melodic clichés without refuting their power, an execution that mirrors how Webster writes songs that feel slightly off-center: she delivers subtle surprises without neglecting basic pop pleasures.

The sturdiness of the craft and its faithfulness to Cast's body of work means Love Is the Call could indeed function as a handsome farewell, but it also suggests the band might have more plenty of road left ahead of them.

Grey's voice is sometimes treated in a way to further emphasize the urgent bulletin-like quality of the material, but otherwise, this crackles with spontaneity, and the band at times plays with nearly the same ferocity displayed on some of their 1980-1982 output.

Y’Y a singular meditation on ancestral history, environmental awareness and spiritual devotion, is wide ranging, complex, and in places, quite mysterious. It is also utterly compelling.

Wry, riveting, chaotic, and infectious throughout, Where's My Utopia? easily upstages what was an impressive debut.