If you give the album the chance it deserves you will be rewarded by one of the strongest LPs you are likely to hear this year.

Her eighth studio album may be her most ambitious yet, but that added weight can lead some songs to run too long or feel overstuffed. She may still be trying to find the right balance between her larger soundscape and storytelling, but Home, before and after is an exciting evolution that feels both old and new.

Overall, while Blondes' debut album isn't quite as dynamic as the EP, it still serves its purpose as a notable standout from the upstart duo.

As a product of Yorke’s mind, AMOK represents a measurable progression over The Eraser. It’s more experimental, varied, nuanced, and likeable.

ME REX have taken a leap and tried something fresh, and depending on how much the thought of an album with instructions thrills or annoys you, you’ll get varying degrees of enjoyment from it. Equally though, that’s kind of the point.

It can be taken as a given that any longstanding fans will immediately enjoy Algiers, but for newcomers, this is also a perfect access point to what is one of the most consistent bands of the 2000s.

Through the steady flowing of Allison's vocals and the constant strumming of the chords as well as the steady drum beats, the band proves that they are more than just robots and distortion; the Kills are indeed talented musicians.

While a more harder-edged and rougher sound certainly could have upped the ante a bit and helped the songwriting talents of Brian Fallon reach a wider audience that would most likely have required an entirely new band, and this is after all "only" a side-project--but it's a very fine one, worthy of attention from both newcomers and already converted.

Ultimately, Skullcrusher gives you a small yet satisfying taste of Ballentine’s blossoming internal world—it will be exciting to see where she takes us next.

This EP is a fine stopgap between Morbid Stuff and their next full-length; nothing more, nothing less. The mixture of self-deprecation and unceasing anxiety remains. This Place Sucks Ass: it’s actually the whole world that sucks ass right now, and PUP know it.

Something about The Fellowship makes one want to listen to it again and again, but it’s not something that can be put to words, it needs to be experienced — just like a lifetime and the memories made in the process.

Overall, Ceremonials leaves everyone's opinions of Florence + the Machine in stasis; if you loved or hated her before, you'll still feel the same way, if you were unsure, you'll still be unsure.

A fairly unique record that shape-shifts through electronic tones all while giving us a clear view of her inner monologue.

Be The Void matches guitarist Scott McMicken's clever lyrics, precise riffs, and quivery vocals to the rare glottal gift and intricate bass work of Toby Leaman in this jumble of freaky throwbacks, reflective ruminations, and spontaneous psychedelic bursts.

It's the kind of record best fitted for when you're unsure as to what to listen to or when you've got an autumn or winter evening to yourself.

Like a lot of Andrew Bird albums of late, Inside Problems needs some time to reveal itself. Its frustrations and lidless graspings at the world are part of the game here, so that it doesn’t nestle quickly into a box on first listen feels appropriate.

Most often, it delivers what you get on Departing: an enjoyable but still not entirely satisfying collection of songs that don't really work as well together as they do apart.

Only on a few songs does the album bear some weak spots, the most obvious being “Here For Now, For You”; with its under three-minute runtime and lack of evolution, the song feels like an obvious breather. Overall, however, Johnson and company sound completely comfortable throughout The Pet Parade, as if they’re working from a home-field advantage.

Mong Tong 夢東 have made something that’s rewarding in both the short and long-term, and they have the nerve to make it look easy.

While Vertigo Days boasts a heap of guest musicians, none ever outshine The Notwist, something that can often happen on guest-heavy albums. Instead, this cast of characters from around the world does wonders for their sound and makes for an intriguing and rewarding listen every time.

Food for Worms‘ greatest strength is to chronicle how incredible it can feel to be in the presence of this band, at this moment. It feels as if you could almost reach out and touch them, rip open their shirts and feel their sweat.

Hive Mind is confident in finding a throughway and becomes as much a joy to listen to for its toy-box experimentation as it is for its head-nodding immediacy.

Centipede Hz is dense and unforgivingly full-throttle--you'll find no "Loch Raven" or even "Chores" here – and home to some of the band's best and most involved lyrics to date.

This kind of high-emotion, omni-genre electronic music is becoming the measure of artists working without geographical or scene ties and Held is one of the best examples

Rarely does music feel this much like a celebration, and though it might not get to you emotionally, that doesn't mean you can't sing along.

Rainforest is an EP and it does leave the listener wanting. It works as a sort of mini album, finding enough variable direction to point toward a future template for Clams Casino with a myriad of aural directions when he does decide to craft a full-length.

Best to sit back and bask in the confident warmth of a job well done.

We Must Become often hints at Joy Division's stylish brand of post-punk ennui, but by treating it as little more than a gimmick, Maus loses the urgency that makes Curtis's music so endurable.

Even if the highs aren't as high, like the rest of the reunited lineup's work, there really aren't any noticeable lows.

While there may not be a song to soundtrack an Amazon advertisement in this bunch, it'll work nicely to soundtrack bleary summer nights–probably for years to come.

On Bitchitronics, Bitchin Bajas make the journey from unconscious creation to physical expression in a way that few of their electronic peers would understand. Brian Eno and Robert Fripp would approve, I’d imagine.

Mark Lanegan has accomplished something truly magnificent with Blues Funeral.

In The Runner, Boy Harsher deliver variety for new listeners and for devoted fans, something new so they can continue to experience the band live but safe behind the big screen.

Aisles doesn’t take many risks, but perhaps that’s for the best. Over the past decade, Angel Olsen has proven herself a more-than-worthy voice in indie rock, and a fun little aside from her album output is something to welcome.

It’s clear that OH NO will not be remembered as one of Xiu Xiu’s most stellar records. Yet, as usual with collaborations, it’s likely that each listener is likely to find their own tracks they ditch, just like different ones will stand out, given the varying degrees of artistic touches these additional musicians bring with their own aesthetics and histories.

It's big, open, cavernous, so much so that it feels like it could swallow you entirely, and so you let it because it's comforting, warm, and safe.

awE naturalE is at least a great, deep listen, and all that THEESatisfaction has done to challenge the listener warrants serious admiration.

Host is a consistent record in its drive towards freedom, and both sound and lyrics embody that. At times this really allows them soar, and at others there’s the struggle to go it alone. It’s great to see Cults taking risks and pressing forward, but more than anything it makes you long for their past.

Taylor takes that responsibility as a solo artist and runs with it, throwing everything and anything into the mix; there are the standard sounds you’d expect from him, but there’s also country, blues-based hard rock, punk and some rap-rock thrown in for good measure. And therein lies the issue with CMFT: rather than those disparate influences somehow mixing to become a whole, they’re left to stand on their own. The more you listen to CMFT, the more it comes across as ‘Corey Taylor does (insert genre here)’ rather than something cohesive.

This record does indeed feel like a natural continuation of Sadier's previous body of work.

He’s fulfilled every promise made by Badlands and then some, and despite whatever depths of pain made such an eruption of shattered awesome possible, he’s managed not just one of the best albums of the year, but one of the most genuinely moving, as well.

Brun has such control of her craft, and that is made brightly plain across these two albums [After The Great Storm & How Beauty Holds The Hand Of Sorrow]. Which one you prefer will likely depend on which genre or style you have deeper inclination for, but taken together, they’re both excellent representations of an artist honing her tested and true style while also venturing out into new waters, easily proving just how capable she is along the way.

The Defamation of Strickland Banks is most certainly a success.

Like last year's A Frightened Rabbit EP, State Hospital lacks some coherency in style, but its brevity makes this less of a problem.

Usually, Blanck Mass records should be listened to at intense volume, whereas In Ferenaux is so densely packed and beautifully mixed that headphones whilst walking alone late at night are your best option. Trust me, you’ll thank me for it later.

Even the addition of pop icons to the Rome album can't allow it to rise above its previously stated goals. There is little, if nothing, wrong with Rome, but rather, it is limited by the confines it sets up for itself.

Unsure whether he wanted to create a sunny, party album, gangstafest, or a record of cool pop vibes, Rocky seems to have tried to make them all, and with minor successes in all departments, he sacrifices something stronger.

Articulation balances the sterility of machine commands with the vivacity and pensiveness of the human experience like few other albums in the field have managed. Just at the moment when you feel as if you know where the music is headed it skews in on itself and refuses to accommodate your whims, moving itself to more unconventional spaces in order to breathe and react with themselves, not the needs of others.

Each track on in|Flux has a soul and heart of its own.

God's Father is nearly two hours long, and it's actually good.

At times, the measured approach he takes on some songs falls short of supplying the momentum needed for each part to hit in the exact way he wanted, but for the most part, Sheff creates a landscape of gentle dynamics that grow until they release their stored energy through unexpected eruptions of kinetic movement.

White Rabbits have made a record that is truly their own, so much so that at points it hurts the record.

Though it may lack a song with the immediacy of something like "Girls FM," the tracks on King Tuff represent some of the best work of the career of a man who's hopefully just getting started.

It’s rare for an artist to be so bold and blatantly fighting their fears on a debut album, but Lady Dan’s bravery is what gives extra life and depth to her songs.

While it is hard to pinpoint anything wrong with Sound Kapital on a micro-level (and a great many people are likely to be happy with the collection), the resulting picture of Sound Kapital as a whole is one of complacency, making the album easy enough to like, but difficult to love.

Outrun is exactly what it aspires to be: a fun retro-pop-dance album for those who like to drive fast through cities at night, perhaps behind a pair of sunglasses.

Frank Ocean might have a gutsier pen game–and Usher more moves and Miguel more sex appeal--but 20/20 is easier to fall into a groove with than any of the best contemporary pop/R&B albums out right now.

An Argument With Myself is nothing short of spectacular at any length, crowning Lekman as one of today's most fascinating and gifted musicians.

For all its gorgeous expansiveness and new perspectives, it never comes together to be incisive or essential.

As an experiment, the album hints at expansion but it feels restrained, afraid to really push hard. Even still, Present Tense has a little something for everyone and is a perfect launching pad for the next one.

When Woman On the Internet isn’t fun, bold, or thoughtful (or all three at once in some parts), it’s reflective.

Overall, When Fish Ride Bicycles won't convert any naysayers, but for both fans and those new to the group, this is a tightly-crafted showcase for the unique sound and style of The Cool Kids.

At first glance, Smalhans feels exceedingly necessary as reconciliation for Six Cups of Rebel, but it's quite a reliable document on its own.

Always grandiose and intimate at the same time, The Lemon Twigs have managed to perfect not only an uncanny reprise of FM rock (duly aided by producer and multi-instrumentalist extraordinaire Jonathan Rado), but also the type of excitement it provoked.

The songwriting here is just not very good. And even when the referential tracks are fairly decent, they only would have been minor entries of their era. Shades of Madonna and Avril can’t disguise that there’s no distinguished personality here.

Self-Surgery is punchy and full of potential, but that’s mostly what it rides on. It’s a quick fix, but its depths are easily plundered.

While Personality is worthy of praise for its feverous energy and detailed, hot-iron arrangements, there isn't a lot to make the album really stick.

They’re still capable of brilliance (particularly on the opening and closing tracks), but too much of Mosquito is bogged down by tongue-in-cheek frivolity.

Anyone who considers themselves a fan of unvarnished punk should listen to OFF! at least once.

Whole Lotta Red has a vibe the same way a TGI Fridays has an atmosphere; it just rides a wave of different shades of lifeless trap, an endless TikTok dance in purgatory. ... The problem is Whole Lotta Red hardly ever gives Carti a chance to be real. He puts on vapid personas like ‘rock star’ and ‘vampire’ like he’s at Halloween Express. Tracks are Seinfeldian in their nothingness.

Widowspeak are a perfectly enjoyable, if ultimately unexciting band.

It's another dose of what Dunn seems to be becoming a modern master of, while carefully trying out new textures.

Nothing on Sleepless Night necessarily surprises, but nothing disappoints either. For a band with 15 studio albums (and counting), we unsurprisingly don’t discover anything new about them here, but this isn’t the point. We’re just glad to be in their company once again; this, one feels, will never change.

the rest can be defined by its most insecure and self-deprecating moments. “Black Hole” opens the EP with what is probably the lightest of the four tracks, but rest assured, the other three deliver the depth and emotional resonance that boygenius fans have come to expect.

An Usher album that is good, but not great.

Bnny’s debut balances the calmness of the instrumentals and the emptiness conveyed in the lyrics.

Ultimately, it might not be a more serious album than anything previous, but Shangri-La captures the spirit of uncertainty and restlessness that 21st century modernity has created.

Nocturne proves that Tatum is firmly at the centre of the Wild Nothing universe, and around him orbits his dreams, influences and abilities, which seem to stretch out infinitely.

This is a record unanchored by the lofty expectations of previous releases. It’s a series of notes and remembrances, fond and mournful and often whimsical in nature, which provides ample evidence that the band still hasn’t fully excavated all the mysterious beauty that pop music has to offer.

What an enormous room strikes as a means for Scott to prove to no one but herself that she can build her temple from scratch, embracing her inner non-conformist with steadfast spirit. Even within the sound of settling, Torres has plenty of charming things to say.

Minks' devotion to mood and texture may seem redolent of My Bloody Valentine's foggy experiments, but By The Hedge isn't nearly as sonically challenging or heady as Kevin Shields's work. No, Minks have more modest goals as it turns out, their greatest inspiration comes not from the music of others but rather from within.

Both Ways Open Jaws will strike you as both new sounding and classic, as both fresh and rooted in tradition. Most importantly, it will strike you as a treasure, and probably, as the best album you have heard in a long time.

We got an album entirely thrown on the shoulders of the cub, and like a growing king, J. Cole actually pulled it off, but scope, cohesiveness, and focus couldn't help but become somewhat lost in the disarray.

It's both the sleaziest album of the year and Diddy's intricate fantasy world of mistreatment and vindication presented as a bizarre mass.

It's the producer's most immediate album and tightest display to date.

The young choristers’ bright, buoyant singing brings an airy freshness to this singular set of synth-laden art-pop songs, a well-suited sonic palette for Jenn Wasner’s thoughtful musings on contemporary life.

Barn is a really solid Crazy Horse record, definitely in the upper third of Neil’s output over the last decade or two. There’s a lot of joy and atmosphere in the set, and while some of the tracks here might be a bit too typical of their genre tropes or Neil’s past, they also bring with them a timeless, warm sense of identity and perspective totally unique in the current music world.

People Who Aren’t There Anymore was not written as a reflection but a documentary of the emotional processes the band members were going through at the time. The meaning of the songs will continue to change for the band over time, just as they will for listeners.

With Passage, Exitmusic has turned in one of the more ambition, evocative, and engaging efforts of 2012.

one hand on the steering wheel might not have any clear missteps (though the jagged pedal twang filling the empty space on “violence” wears a little thin all too quickly), but it may take some time to warm to. Some offerings are more instantly likeable than others.

Indeed, Ancient Romans is a mostly good record that ends on a terrific high note; here's to hoping that Sun Araw can maintain this momentum on the future, instead of falling back on the reliable old drones he's offered us so many times in the past.

It's unlikely that the album will be a big hit, but the best songs will grow to have a life outside of Feel It Break, on dancefloors and party playlists, which I'm sure is something Stelmanis would approve of.

Simply as an album, this is good stuff, and nothing can take away from that, it's only hard to forget how much more the man who brought it to you is capable of.

This new release does function better as a cohesive work, but oddly enough they seem to have restricted their musical vocabulary even further.

Sometimes these lyrics are a bit stifling and confusing to place in context, but once more, these songs become something more due to Turner's impeccable vocal melodies.

Make Believe takes the listener from the same point A to point B as Santogold, but has no qualms about taking a completely different route, which is both more scenic and more difficult, but ultimately feels more fulfilling.

Although this may not be what all Sigur Rós fans were hoping for, standing on its own, Odin’s Raven Magic is a gorgeous, moving piece of neoclassical musicianship, performance, and composition.