While it may be a brief career diversion instead of a new direction, Butch Walker adds to his long list of accomplishments with an album that’s as impressive in its laid back way as any of the tougher, edgier, more aggressive entries that dominate his catalog.

With his latest, Jonny Fritz cements his standing as a first-rate satirist whose off-kilter sensibility expands and challenges the very boundaries of what constitutes fair game in pop songwriting.

Remind Me Tomorrow actually does take a less-is-more tack in terms of its lyrics. Yet this album manages to be striking even when the words are minimized or backgrounded. Van Etten may be transforming, but she’s still triumphing.

The Nashville by way of Texas singer-songwriter ups his game for this self-assured sweetly melodic sophomore release.

The album, sees the pop maven realize her own strength and let it take her somewhere new while keeping with her characteristic candor and energy.

This is an auspicious solo debut. Auerbach backs her with studio pros who have played on dozens of classic albums from Aretha to Neil Diamond, but she rises to the occasion with her commanding presence, terrific songs and powerhouse voice.

Crockett is not aiming for edgy but neither is he slick, overly smooth or worse, commercially motivated. Even when the songs describe the titular hard times, his affable approach makes them go down easy and, like the best performers, leaves you wanting more.

Rather than an uninspiring photo copy of the previous collaborations, the fourth go-round of this feisty association shows that it’s getting better and tougher, whetting our appetite for the next iteration.

The sparse production rightly focuses on the vocals with a backing band that's in the pocket yet appropriately reserved.

With the buzz silenced and the rag headlines but a thing of the past, it’s encouraging to see that The Libertines have lost none of what made them worth the hype in the first place.

He comes across as a man still deep in the throes of religious and romantic upheaval, invigorated rather than intimidated by the nearness of death.

Benson writes about life’s ups and downs. But musically this short (just over 30 minutes) yet taut collection delivers all the power pop goods you’ll need.

St. Vincent is an overwhelming listen the first, second, maybe even third time around.

Simpson lets his band, and his songs, do the talking on Metamodern Sounds, which is surely one of the very best straight up country records of 2014.

An album that succeeds on all fronts, both as an artistic endeavor and as an expression of conscience and clarity. With Georgia Blue, Isbell and company have made an album for the ages.

It’s still early in 2019, but with the striking, often churchy Painted Image, the half-Dominican/half-Italian southerner Liz Brasher sketches a claim as a breakout Americana soul-singer with crossover potential.

With T Bone Burnett's production and Burnett's usual cast of top-notch players (including Sara Watkins on fiddle and vocals), Earle's got another winner. Grammy or not.

Bahamas Is Afie is a triumph in soulful, roots music, and instead of just trying to sound old-timey, the record is full of personality.

The music’s not raw enough to be considered outlaw but it’s melodic, sharply arranged and driven by passion. That balance makes the Turnpike Troubadours both one of Americana’s preeminent purveyors and this album arguably their most accomplished set to date.

While continuing to deliver the intimate songs of hopeless love and regret for his longtime fans, he stills finds ways to surprise as he works with his magician-like collaborator.

Each track lists a dozen or more players. And while that creates complex, occasionally ornate instrumentation, the songs never feel cluttered or overly busy. Rather Weller carefully crafts this music, shifting moods and using the players to enhance songs that are as well, soulful and heavy, as anything he has created.

It’s an album that both looks backward and forward, reprising the dusky feel of the music that first inspired the Dickinson brothers to start their band while pushing it into electric boogie and even psychedelic directions its founders might not have imagined.

It is 1989 reimagined, with often startling results.

Even at their most carefree and explorative, these tracks are tight, well crafted, and time conscious.

If artistry is the product of passion, then Wainwright has demonstrated yet again that she’s capable of channeling it better than most.

Ronnie Dunn is an admirable solo effort and is as rock-solid as any Brooks & Dunn album, which should appease old and new fans alike.

If the first 45 minutes don’t convince you this is the best garage rock album in years, then the closing 13-minute epic “Ghost Cave Lament,” one of two new tunes, will seal the deal.

Good stuff all around from a band that makes it look easy by keeping true to what got it here in the first place.