The album goes on to offer a range of dreaminess, arguably reaching its lushest and loudest point on the jammy outro to "Superglued," its liveliest on the appreciative, post-breakup "Lights Light Up" (though there is a case to be made for the jaunty but fatalistic "Pick"), and its sparsest on the brittle, comfort-seeking "Henry," which still features a full band. The musical contrasts aren't far-ranging, however, and similarly, even the most optimistic lyrics seem to be biding time.

Perhaps the most impressive thing about Multitudes is that virtually any of its 12 songs would be showstoppers in less consummate company.

Balancing both his vulnerable and fiercely intense sides, he manages to reveal more of himself in 20 minutes than he has to date.

It's crowded, confusing, ridiculous music, but despite its scary intentions, the album's renegade production and impressive performances make it more exciting than frightening.

The songs that make up Sremm4Life are lean, purposeful, and to the point.

The whole set affirms the band's continued relevance with a clear sense that they're having a ball with their past and influences while linking with another cohort of homegrown talent.

While it may not cull from her deep well of personal experiences, Heaven still ends up being one of the most immediate and compulsively listenable efforts in her catalog.

Produced by Tonra and bandmate Igor Haefeli, Stereo Mind Game is an album that sounds like it was assembled with care, as Daughter change things up while remaining instantly familiar.

Plastic Eternity shows Mudhoney are capable of surprising us (and themselves) thirty-five years in, and judging from the results, it won't be the last time they'll pull that off.

Gately's meditations on mothers and daughters, and bodies creating and betraying, are fascinating, and Fawn/Brute's expressions of the darker corners of childhood and motherhood might be even more revealing than more conventional musical memoirs.

Even though With a Hammer is Yaeji's most cathartic work to date, it's still playful and optimistic, preferring joy, comfort, and creativity over rage as a form of release.

The Who integrate the orchestra quite seamlessly throughout the performances, especially during an extended segment focused on Quadrophenia material; the orchestra helps Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey summon a bit of the old Who's flair for bombast. Even so, the moments on the record that cut the deepest are when the band plays without the orchestra.

Cherry Stars Collide is a worthwhile deep dive into the lucid, spaced-out realm of alternative music.

While the Nude Party come awfully close to quoting well-known riffs, grooves, and vocal affectations here, the fun they have doing so is contagious, and they nearly always bring enough of their own wry, irreverent, working-class moxie to the table that contemporary concerns as well as sheer charisma overpower any potential pastiche.

The very nature of the group's hyperbolic and perpetually exploding design means they're still inherently polarizing, love-it-or-hate-it kind of music. For those who love it, 10,000 Gecs offers more -- so much more, always more -- to love.

With Desire, I Want to Turn into You, Polachek breaks free from outside expectations and transforms her inner anxieties into an intoxicating pop euphoria.

Other One feels like it was pulled through a wormhole from a universe where a committee writes Babymetal's metallic pop emissions, intent on flowing with the current instead of against it.

The LP is another work of sophisticated simplicity with deliberation seemingly eschewed in favor of spontaneity. Due in significant part to Leach's active hands and the frequent presence of Hone's woodwinds, the material evokes gentle spiritual and Brazilian jazz almost as much as it does smooth private-press soul.

London Brew is wonderfully eclectic, strange and beautifully realized. In keeping with its inspiration source, it's a vanguard electric jazz album, abundant in communication, immediacy and imagination.

If the Hold Steady sound a lot more polished and accomplished in 2023 than on 2004's Almost Killed Me, they're gained far more than they've lost in the course of their evolution, and The Price of Progress finds them writing and performing at the top of their game.

Miracle-Level is about seizing the opportunity to come together to create music and change -- a message that, like their other 2020s work, is just as eternal as it is timely.

While Continue as a Guest may not have the immediacy of career standouts like Twin Cinema or even Brill Bruisers, it succeeds more subtly on its own terms and begs for repeated listens.

Collectively, boygenius feels heftier and hookier than Baker, Bridgers, and Dacus do on their own, and this collective instinct towards immediacy pays great dividends: it's bracing to hear such introspective singer/songwriters embrace the pleasures of a united front.

While it's admirable that they're not content to simply rehash older material, the riskier new material sometimes hits its mark and sometimes flops. The edgier tracks on Different Game will appeal to die-hard fans and those following the Zombies' entire journey, but might register as confusing for casual listeners. As ever, all the surrounding details are reduced to afterthoughts whenever Blunstone sings.

Pure techno at its most exciting.

True Entertainment often feels like a culmination of Dutch Uncles' music. At its best, it finds them growing into the kind of cult-favorite act that would have inspired them at the beginning of their journey -- and that makes it a true testament to their creativity.

Whether it's with the themes of romantic heartbreak and bodily autonomy, or the global boundary-pushing musicality at play on Mélusine, Salvant's work is transcendent.

While 93696 will take several listens to entirely comprehend the wealth of ideas and techniques on offer here, it is more than worth the effort and time. When absorbed, it results in all-encompassing, immersive, aesthetically and musically sensorial experience, and Liturgy's crowning achievement to date.

The Town That Cursed Your Name is yet another step forward in the rapid and ongoing evolution of the Reds, Pinks & Purples. Donaldson's songwriting is brilliant and intelligent as always, and its wry charm shines through no matter what new direction he takes with his tunes.

Interestingly, five decades into his career, Billy Valentine & the Universal Truth may be the record that finally introduces him to a national audience, simply because it's the protest-soul album we need most right now.

The sense of fun that buoyed Loner and Superstar is muted on The Art of Forgetting, but the intelligence and songwriting chops are very much there, and this music brilliantly merges form and content, an exercise in pop music as therapy that's intensely personal and easily relatable.

A remarkable debut album, Yian's reflections on growth cement Chua's identity as an artist capable of deeply personal, honest, and beautiful music.

Where their previous record resembled the cozy reunion that it was, Celebrants is a more defining statement from veteran players whose chemistry remains undeniable.

A difficult, but defining statement, made at the height of their powers.

Gore and Gahan transform tragedy into something profound and universally relatable. Though not their most immediate offering, Memento Mori is their most heartfelt, thoughtful, and moving statement in decades.

So Much (For) the Stardust is a gloriously welcome return to form.

Lana Del Rey has honed a style so unique she’s almost a genre unto herself. Full of brilliant strides forward, Ocean Blvd. is a crucial chapter in Del Rey’s ongoing saga of heartbreak and enchantment.

While the energy level feels drastically different between the album's clubbier first half and its slower second, Friday's music is always dramatic, honest, and futuristic.

Closing on the soaring, bittersweet ballad "Performer," Black joins the ranks of other pop chameleons on an impressive and engaging reinvention.

Drag on Girard isn't a minute too long or too short. It's another invigorating chapter in Purling Hiss' ongoing saga, and their scraggly guitar rock is in its finest and most exciting form for the album's entire duration.

Under an Endless Sky is not the United States of America, nor does it need to be. This is music that confirms Dorothy Moskowitz is a seeker looking forward, and what she sees is well worth hearing.

September November is a collection of songs that says, "We're Still Here!" a subtle but vitally important difference, and the Long Ryders make us glad that they were alt-country before there was alt-country and haven't thrown in the towel.

On With Love From, Aly & AJ establish themselves as first-class artists, and it will be fascinating to hear where they go from here.

Moving On Skiffle is light and lively, an easy record to enjoy.

Altogether, Ben feels like the first time Macklemore has truly let listeners into his inner world, showcasing his underrated lyrical skills and enough varied production to keep the album moving forward toward a hopeful finish.

An aptly titled set that's more engrossing and intimate despite its much longer procession of guest collaborators.

U2 deliver smooth, polished performances that are handsome and, yes, intimate but not especially compelling. It's stylish background music that sounds a bit like it was designed to be heard in chain coffeehouses during the late 2000s.

Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against tha Wall, her first major-label release, is a more accessible refinement of her already fully formed aesthetic.

At once challenging and inviting, Praise a Lord Who Chews But Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds) is another dazzling work from a creative whirlwind. Tumor may never find the answers they're seeking, but hearing their search is exhilarating and inspiring in its own right.

Cyrus will probably never settle on just one or two sounds to express herself, but her voice and vision are strong enough on Endless Summer Vacation to suggest she'll never need to.

Fantasy isn't for the skeptical; Gonzalez demands you dive in with him, and a lot of fans will be happy to take the plunge.

Racing the Storm is a potent return with quality songwriting that nods to her past, but introduces a new element that suits her quite well.

Gracie Abrams focuses in and doubles down on the wispier ruminations of prior EPs, this time in full-on collaboration with This Is What It Feels Like contributor Aaron Dessner, who co-wrote and produced the entire album.

It's just as easy of an album to drift off in thought to as it is to obsess over its patchwork of details and strange coloration, reaching a deeper, more thoughtful expression of the kind of bizarre beauty the band excels at.

Some of the album's most gripping moments directly draw from Holley's storied past. ... The album ends on a puzzling note with "Future Children," in which Holley's gruff intonations are processed into a stark, robotic tone over jittery, post-minimalist recorder sequences.

A maverick saxophonist and sonic experimentalist, Sam Gendel applies his distinctive approach to contemporary R&B hits on his inventive 2023 covers album, COOKUP.

It's perfectly fine that they chose to head backwards to a sound they were familiar with. Aşk is proof that there is plenty of mileage left before the sound, or the band, runs out of gas.

Gumbo isn't worlds removed from any of Young Nudy's previous projects, but it attempts a variety of styles he hasn't focused on before, further expanding an already vast range and continuing a streak of releases that refuse to limit themselves to any one lane.

It both makes the listener feel warmly good and tearfully bad at the same time. That's a satisfying dichotomy and one that's hard to pull off. With Le Bon and his band's help, Evans has done it and in the process made the best H. Hawkline record to date.

Sleaford Mods' range keeps growing along with their success. It's a slightly more disjointed experience than Spare Ribs, but Fearn and Williamson are making music for themselves first and fighting back against evil and stupidity the only way they can.

Dreijer often seems more relaxed and more forthcoming on Radical Romantics than on Fever Ray's previous albums. Fans may have anticipated another epic like Plunge, but the more approachable, more personal choices Dreijer makes here are often just as risky and just as rewarding.

All this radio-ready variety suggested that Wallen wanted to appeal to every audience everywhere, but in the wake of his scandal, this multi-purpose crowd-pleasing suggests an artist who wants to provide the perpetual jukebox within a walled garden.

The Soft Struggles is a delightful addition to the Field Music-adjacent family with plenty of its own personality to set it apart.

It's a lovely album to get lost in, offering sounds which might go unnoticed on the first few spins, but will rise up as repeat listens make Manzanita's insular and mysterious dreamworld a more familiar place.

The lush synths and bubbling beats carry the same wild dreaminess she achieved on songs where she was covering D.I.Y. rock songs in sheets of reverb, and it's more Rose's exacting and specific songwriting design than the instrumentation that makes Love as Projection feel so wonderfully strange, secret-keeping, and exciting.

A copy of Soul'd Out should be in every public library. Stax fanatics will find that it superbly complements the four Complete Stax/Volt Singles boxed sets.

It's a loud, celebratory album that perfectly boils down Birch's 40-plus-year journey as a tireless, boundless, and most of all fearless, creator.

Much like contemporaries Sleeping with Sirens and Bring Me the Horizon, they've changed with the times -- for better or worse, depending on the fan -- and the results are no less immediate and impactful.

The tracks on Quest for Fire go for instant dancefloor gratification, but they're far more refined and nuanced than the brostep ragers that made Skrillex a household name in the early 2010s.

It’s vital and authentic, confident yet emotive, refined in its simplicity; Karol has produced her best work yet.

Few bands of their day, and especially those of the post-punk '80s, are as consistent as the Church at writing songs that sound like more sophisticated and mature versions of their classic material.

Strange Dance is gentle enough to constitute adventurous background listening but complex enough to reward a closer inspection, a curious combination that is not without appeal.

More often than not, he delivers on High Drama, particularly on the insistent glitter march of "Holding Out for a Hero" and a smoldering electro makeover of "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me."

Afterpoem is surprisingly thrilling and wholly original.

This collection wasn't intended to be a memorial, yet this deep dive into one of his last major collaborations pays worthy homage to his skill and dedication to craft, and every moment testifies to Costello's towering respect for the great man.

Through it all, Mason's distinctive voice -- a hushed croon belying a hidden depth of thunder -- give his narratives gravitas and the album's production, a joint effort with London's Tev'n, builds an exciting world to match it. It's another solid effort from one of Scotland's finest.

Stewart, Seo, and Kendrick make every tragedy and outrage feel fresh, and those who thrill when Xiu Xiu are willing to go to the places many artists won't will be awed by Ignore Grief's ferocious empathy.

The low-spirited moments are typically as alluring as the bliss-outs, and though there's a breakup in the mix, Red Moon finishes as Uchis pushes the reset button on a relationship with a strong sense of optimism.

It's clearly a challenging, confrontational album, but it also feels like the artist's purest expression yet.

What's particularly enjoyable about Mehldau's approach is how he keeps each song recognizable while making it his own.

On their debut album, Miss Grit questions norms more artfully than ever.

On Food for Worms, Shame don't so much discard everything that came before as they strip away what doesn't fit anymore. Occasionally, the results are a little muddled, but at its best, the album is a thrilling testament to creative bravery.

Balancing bright, colorful electro-pop with a slight air of melancholy is hardly a new trick for Albarn yet there's a clean, efficient energy propelling Cracker Island that gives the album a fresh pulse.

Travel is very much a Necks album and lines up seamlessly with the trio's vast catalogue. It blossoms with new ideas, fluid spontaneity and fresh ideas. For newcomers curious about the longstanding trio's music, Travel is a truly excellent place to begin.

Should've Learned By Now makes it clear things still aren't always a breeze for them, but they've learned sometimes you just need to plug in that guitar and shake off the bad times as best you can, and they've done so like the great band they are. Put this on, turn it up, and join them in the party.

It's brave, smart, honest, and expressive -- an uncompromised vision from musicians with something to say and the means to say it. It's another triumph from one of the finest, most satisfying bands in the indie underground.

The presence of primitive samples and Casio presets suggest that Khotin has been experimenting with electronic music since youth, but through years of experience, he's now able to produce more finely detailed work while keeping the spirit that inspired him to start creating music in the first place.

It's the band's most dynamic, full-bodied recording to date, and a clear improvement over their somewhat rusty-sounding early releases, moving between lulling spaciousness and cathartic violence.

Bless This Mess is another chapter of U.S. Girls' consistent evolution marked by pristine production and a deft balance of hooks and soul-baring beauty, with Remy pulling off the feat of intertwining some of her most emotionally complex material with what might be her most accessible sounds yet.

On The Vivian Line, he hits the sweet spot between challenging himself and not fixing what isn't broke. It's a gem.

Darker and more assured than its predecessors, Land of Sleeper parses the outrage and catastrophizing of the social media age with gravitas, yet it does so with a watchful and curious eye.

More immediate earworms are scattered throughout to appease anyone looking for a radio-ready hit, but they cede the bulk of the album to more reflective fare that provides a different kind of spiritual nourishment.

It's a great reminder of how weird and one-of-a-kind Avey Tare has always been, and how he's still refreshing his strangeness with every new record.

Consistently theatrical but intimate, the song increases in volume, adding components like strummed guitar and active tom drums as Savage's plea -- "Stop haunting me/Please/Just leave me be" -- gets more insistent. While the rest of in|FLUX maintains that song's often captivating sense of brewing urgency and poignancy, arrangements alter as it passes through even sparser balladry ("I Can Hear the Birds Now," "Hungry"), skittering, full-kit indie rock ("Pavlov's Dog," "Crown Shyness"), the eventual acoustic cacophony of "Say My Name," and an art-funky title track.

Heavy Heavy pulls in the listener with an empathetic lust for life that, whether brimming with optimism, steeling for a threat to survival, or reckoning with a perceived futility of existence, somehow never wavers.

Liv.e's growth as an artist has been remarkable, and the vivid self-portrait Girl in the Half Pearl is her most impressive work so far.

Even at their most dystopian, Orbital never lose their excitement for exploring new sounds, and Optical Delusion doesn't get bogged down in cynicism or nostalgia.

The holistic, evolutionary approach and stellar performances on Dance Kobina make it Chambers' finest as a leader for Blue Note.