The Unraveling is a perfect storm of anger, resentment, frustration and even glimmers of hope, wrapped in the sharp, terse musical invention we have come to expect from these veterans. In other words, it’s another classic Drive-By Truckers release.

The musical leaps Punch Brothers takes are invigorating, sometimes breathtaking.

Their music is unique and instantly identifiable, high praise indeed for brothers that have seemingly become tighter and more focused as their professional liaison has matured.

Not everything is so different though, and in a good way. The Foo Fighters still adhere to the formula that sells out arenas from London to Japan.

Shemekia Copeland might have been born into the blues, but the riveting America’s Child shows her continuing to push those boundaries, creating music reflecting a larger, wider-ranging tract of Americana.

The revised sound and songwriting on Undivided Heart & Soul isn’t an extreme enough alteration to alienate existing McPherson fans, but it results in his finest set yet and signals that he’s pushing boundaries and staying fresh in a business that doesn’t embrace change.

While the mysterious yet sumptuous vibe wears thin with tunes that start to sound similar about halfway though, Monophonics have staked out predominantly dreamy territory on the moody It’s Only Us and are intent on keeping the retro psychedelic soul flames burning.

The performance careens from tight, frantic and professional to shambling, erratic and wobbly... basically your typical Replacements show. In that respect, this is historically important since it finds the group at arguably their most incisive and edgy.

There’s soothing, but never clichéd warmth in this retro-style. Both LaMontagne’s craftsmanship in the composition of these songs and his easygoing, unaccompanied playing will come as comfort food to established followers who should welcome this most organic return to his roots.

There are enough twists to keep even longtime fans on their toes. It’s what makes them so consistently intriguing and will hopefully keep the members inspired, and inspirational, for the foreseeable future.

The result is a warm, generally introspective but far from musty set that revels in predominantly acoustic material sung with Hiatt’s increasingly gruff, whiskeyed voice.

Both haunting and harrowing in equal measure, The Love Still Held Me Near finds the bond that connects those emphatic emotions clearly and convincingly.

Sparkle Hard comfortably fits in alongside any of the other entries in his oeuvre, but it also feels like a more mature release. He’s mostly let go of the overt references to The Fall and Dadaist poetry that defined Pavement’s early material. Instead, he delivers the prettiest album of his recent career, one that still rocks but does so in a relaxed, contemplative manner.

The slower songs—“Stranger Things,” “Goodbye Mary,” “The First Time I Fell In Love,” “More Like a River,” and the aforementioned “When My Race Is Run” in particular—assure an emotional essence remains intact throughout. Taken in tandem, then, this City of Gold shines bright indeed.

Like its simple, evocative cover painting of puffy white clouds drifting by a window, Khruangbin’s music hangs and hovers, creating an ethereal ambiance beckoning the listener to explore more of their addictive, atmospheric sound.

Few songs immediately jump out but when the album is over, you’ll want to hit the repeat button. That’s what any band hopes for and what The Nude Party delivers on the subtly irrepressible Rides On.

It may not have a story of a lost classic, but it has the music of a freshly discovered treasure.

Reteaming with co-producers Ethan Gruska and Tony Berg, Bridgers pulls the listener into a weary world only she could master. It’s exhaustive but redemptive, and she casts her songwriting into fire and brimstone, only to later yank it free in the knick of time.

Nothing is rushed. Listeners should prepare to hunker down for 45 minutes to absorb the hypnotic and often mesmerizing U Kin B the Sun in a single, uninterrupted sitting where it hits the hardest.

Morrison and his always top-shelf musicians knock out these songs as if they’re hanging around the studio, having a party playing music they love without knowing tapes are running.

While fewer slow songs might better balance the often somber pacing, this hour-long program shows why Griffin is one of today’s finest singer-songwriters; one who never rests on her impressive laurels by consistently challenging herself and her audience and coloring outside folk music’s established boundaries.

Where Del Rey’s music feels icier to the touch and more pop-oriented, Olsen sings from the heart, reflected in the melancholic, often soaring, even experimental backing that hits home more than it misses. It may take some time and uninterrupted concentration, but the expansive All Mirrors grows on you with repeated plays.

Watch the Throne is one of the more interesting, envelope-pushing mainstream rap albums in recent memory.

Regardless of its compiler’s obvious intent to generate more cash from Jones’ name, this is a consistently enjoyable listen. It’s a lot of fun and a reminder of the enormous talent taken from us as she was hitting her artistic peak.

The beauty of Vile and Barnett being on such similar wavelengths is that each song would work just fine for either artist individually, but combined, their talents--particularly their vocal harmonies--often amount to a whole greater than the sum of its parts.

While you may wish this newlywed was a little happier, this is a superb, emotionally poignant album that displays and expands Andrew Combs’ impressive songwriting, musical and vocal talents.

A tough, tight and clearly inspired project as well as a most welcome return from the musical shadows for Steven Van Zandt.

The music is charismatic and chaotic, full of shouts, clanging and bright guitars--listen to it with your eyes closed and you'll see everything short of sparkling blue stars.