Though it may be a bit brief or spare for some, Roxanne’s hand on her sound is tighter than ever. While it’s on, Because of a Flower gives us a glimpse into a very specific world of sound — aquatic, earthen, and airborne, all at once — and it is a treat to get lost in.

Anthemic, emotional, powerful – The Tipping Point is a very good record.

Nothing here quite reaches the fizzy highs of something like “Come Together” or “Hey Jane”, and he can’t quite recapture the slow, sad, and syrupy balladry of past tracks like “Broken Heart”. But he can still kick up quite a storm when he wants to, and though perhaps a bit too streamlined for some fans, this is another fine album in Pierce’s and Spiritualized’s repertoire.

Each track on Nothing To Declare feels like a condensed, expertly-aimed Hadoken of fun, furious energy.

Origin of the Alimonies is an astonishing piece of work that leaves the listener breathless and euphoric. It is haunting, stunning in its ambition and scope, and a rapturous piece of art. It is beautiful, brutal and bruising. It is challenging, pretentious and uncompromisingly complex. It’s ace.

Ekstasis is a challenging listen, but a rewarding one.

Celebration Rock is in perpetual motion, driven by a visceral sense of urgency that most modern guitar music is so sorely lacking.

Beginning with another Strokesian riff, Geese build momentum for a catastrophic finale and deliver the goods in an almost Deerhunter via Monomania-like fashion, before abruptly pulling the plug, and ultimately leaving us wanting more.

His continuous work positions him as the Bob Dylan of the alternative rock era, and By The Fire sums up every aspect of his artistry.

Furling is a surprisingly dense record, its sonic pallet feeling deep and widescreen, even in its sparsest moments.

These nine songs will still speak to those willing to listen, speak of the arrogance of those claiming superiority, of the delusion of lovers and anger of those left by the wayside; of the loneliness of the mortally confused, and of the jealousy of those left behind.

TNGHT may clock in at under 16 minutes, but it's the most satisfying quarter-hour blast you'll hear this year.

The Bible is undoubtably one of Lambchop’s most mature records, but it is also one of their most honest, most unguarded in its emotional and historical perspectives.

King Woman perfects the approaches outlined on Suffering here, constructing soundscapes that are gossamer and pummeling, sparse and layered, heavenly and apocalyptic.

Lament is not the harsh noise monster that might be expected from this team up. In fact, it’s turned out to be the band’s most accessible album yet.

At heart, it’s all too modest, too fatigued, too lacking in ambition and attitude.

Here he has never sounded more confident and purposeful, building layered and incredibly rich compositions out of his blissful loops that more than justify the length they inhabit.

Ugly is so rich, so dense, so full that you forget there's just three of them.

It’s all put together under one roof in a neat, unassuming way, made refreshing and palatable by his persona.

A Color of the Sky is now a beautiful summer record, perfect for consumption during long-awaited family reunions and Saturday brunches.

It’s impossible not to come away beaten and bruised by the undulating savagery that emits from a Show Me The Body record. However, from the same wringer, hope miraculously springs eternal. On Trouble The Water, the New York band burn more intensely than ever.

While at this stage of his career a new Dylan release may only be heard by longtime listeners, it must be judged against all music. Even by such lofty standards, Tempest succeeds enormously, placing it not only in the upper half of Dylan's catalog, but also with the better submissions of 2012.

She’s basically incapable of making a song that isn’t at least pretty, but this album shows that some songs are simply meant to have more meat on the bone, and others are meant to be left out of the conversation altogether.

Blunderbuss is a quiet album that that doesn't yearn, instead unfolding slowly, from an artist known for his stark music and desperately longing lyrics.

No one's asking bigger questions of himself or more from himself in music than Flying Lotus is. These records are the only appropriate answers and Until The Quiet Comes is his most accomplished yet.

Nothing here is overtly thrilling but ultimately the record is a real joy to listen to.

Pilgrimage of the Soul feels like a statement of intent from a band now entering their third decade of existence, and this is a fine record that both acknowledges past victories and shows desire to develop and progress to new ground.

Open Your Heart is incredibly intricate and technically masterful.

It's a more than suitable followup to two solid collections of songs, and is the first truly solid coherent work in a career that will hopefully be marked by many many more.

And so here's what it all means: Hot Sauce Committee Part Two is a solid Beastie Boys record that will have something for any fan.

It’s a tender, chaotic, and messy experience that feels all the more natural because of Open Mike Eagle’s transparency with his audience. This is Eagle at his most directionless, and for the time being that’s exactly what we needed to hear from him, because that’s how many of us are feeling too.

This is a great and important record. Just listen.

While Skying is not as large a leap forward as Strange House to Primary Colours was, it's still the work of a band firing on all cylinders, and an exceptional offering from a group that, out of nowhere, is quickly becoming one of the most exciting young acts around.

A laser-focused record that’s their longest studio album since The Hawk is Howling, but has a lightness of touch that feels nothing of the sort.

There’s a wealth of sonic variety on display but the concise run-time--clocking in at a fraction over 40 minutes--keeps matters focused and thoroughly engaging.

Despite being almost twice the length, It’s Almost Dry very much adheres to the wisdom of its predecessor: there isn’t an ounce of fat on the lean, mean machine that is the album, with every second aimed with a precise, sinister purpose.

Most of this review has been spent trying to use genre to back the record into a corner, but there is still so much ineffable that can’t be captured in words. Menneskekollektivet is impossible to pin down. That’s the thrill.

Yeah, Gang Gang Dance's idea of accessible and pop-ready is just as trippy and emotionally affecting as ever. Now, you can play it in the car on a Friday night, too.

Hopefully none of the charm of Special Affections is lost in the process, and the record is seen as more of a building block on which to add, rather than an early turn at which some distance is required. As the former, it is a great start to which greater things are implied, anticipated, and, eventually, expected. No pressure.

It feels akin to waking up, still groggy, and taking in the world before you. It’s surely a different world, now, with them gone. They’ve left us with all they had to offer.

Whether her words come from personal experience or not, Yanya’s able to swell with empathy in ways few current songwriters can convey. It’s audible how she places herself within the circumstances of a song, maybe to feel herself, but in doing so she connects with her audience on a different level.

It's rare that an artist finds a voice in the unsaid. You could call her loss our gain.

These twelve tracks are full, they're self-aware, they're straight up funny, and it's these traits that immediately separate Father John Misty's folk-rock from what Fleet Foxes do.

Past Life Regression doesn’t craft any new formulas for Papercuts, but it’s still consistent with what people have come to expect from the band.

It requires an open mind to absorb so much in one single LP, but whether you're looking for sing-along choruses, meandering instrumentals or just a damn-good listen, all three boxes will surely be inked by big fat ticks by the time the disc stops spinning.

There's much beauty to be found here on the fifth Mountains LP, Centralia.

Despite Laurel Hell‘s unevenness, Mitski’s persistent vulnerability makes her music inherently beautiful and honest, reminding us all of how primal and painful the experience of being human is.

The dire gloom of the early years is gone, and the garbled mutations of Some Rap Songs and Feet of Clay have grown in clarity without losing any of their labyrinthine and gothic dynamics. Without calling a masterpiece just yet: this is a very special moment, both for Thebe and his fans. I leave the rest to Two-Face and the flip of his coin.

Yeah, sometimes you can't even hear the lyrics, and when you do they don't make sense (although that's improving by album). But the music is endearing, and most of the time spectacular and that's a great feature to have in any rock band.

Their voice is more supple and sensual than we’ve heard before, even as they present themselves as anhedonic, numbed by “meaningless space”.

They're not reinventing the wheel, hell they're barely even reinventing themselves, but that's a good thing on this occasion, as they've created an album that will appeal to fans both new and old.

Even with guests and layers stripped away, she can still construct ambient moments that stick in your head.

There’s no predicting what genre he’ll take on next or how far his frightening productivity can go, and by delivering albums this spirited and melodically rich, with no signs of watering himself down when he’s already 10 releases deep in one year, Romano earns the trust to follow him anywhere.

Regresa is a perfectly produced, fully realized debut from a promising, intriguing act. Its vibes couldn’t be more relevant in 2020, and beyond its vital plea for compassion, justice, and progress from a duo hailing from a cruelly maligned place, on a more simple level, its music is simply damn enjoyable.

The Universe Inside might not be insanely memorable as a whole, but will still make for recurrent vivid flashbacks in the days after you’ve listened to it.

Haram feels like the truest representation what they set out to do at the start of their journey as a duo. As a result, it finds them asking the questions everyone is avoiding.

A record that far surpasses the necessity of any and all comparisons. With their highly-anticipated record, this ballistic band birthed from the Brixton Windmill have constructed their own world, where self-abnegation abounds and anxiety festers, yet experimental ingenuity shines a light through all its darkness.

Gone are the old voices of the city, the tales of the Wu-Tang and the sense that there is real struggle or strife. Instead it's a heterogeneous mix of international talent devoted less to teaching lessons or passing down wisdom as it is to making twenty-somethings dance.

It’s a decent follow-up, but one that unfortunately comes off less Bartees Strange and more Bartees Safe.

It sits comfortably in the middle of the vast catalogue of albums released by Radiohead and its members. It’s reassuring to hear that, 35 years after the start of their artistic journey, these musicians can still come up with compositions this elegant and exciting.

There’s enough going on across the 43-minute running time of WASTELAND that the listener shouldn’t go into it expecting to have grasped the whole thing on the first pass; perseverance is greatly rewarded. LICE’s debut album is nothing short of fascinating, and the best part is it offers little in the way of clues as to where they may be headed next.

Seek Shelter isn’t the big, era-defining statement, but a transitional album for the quintet, opening up the possibility of rock’n’roll in their arsenal. While this stylistic choice doesn’t fit 2021’s overarching trends, it proves just how good Iceage are at transforming their sonic interests into full-blown epics.

All that need really be said is that it is sublime; both in terms of execution and aesthetics.

One of the year’s most daring records, he signals his intent – this is an artist not merely requesting his seat at the table, but demanding it.

Thematic and lyrical motifs find repetition throughout the album like a musical director slowly pulling the strings together.

Lianne La Havas is a grower of an album, perhaps more than her first two records. It’s slow, patient, and deliberate in its pacing – almost to a fault. ... Most of all, though, it is a staggering showcase of La Havas as a singer.

By reaching every-damn-where he could, ASAP Rocky both sidesteps this pitfall and becomes one of the year's most exciting voices.

There are no bad songs here. Some fans might even be thrilled with the more consistent approach. For Their Love often feels like the more meticulously produced sibling to Tamer Animals, both to its credit and discredit. There’s not a lot of staying power on this record, but at least it’s well done.

The Hill comes alive and is best enjoyed when under close inspection. With each subsequent release, the band have placed greater value in texture as a driving force for eliciting emotional reactions, and this album continues that trend.

A final gorgeous, understated moment to close out a record full of them. Even without Powell’s signature voice, it sounds like Land of Talk and no one else.

On Island, Pallett reaffirms their status as a special brand of artist. With their compositional flair they can inspire you to bone up on music theory, whilst simultaneously, with a flash of their writerly pen, have the ability to break, rebuild and strengthen your heart.

This is an achingly human journey into the vast mischievous subconscious, never trying to manipulate how you should feel.

I ultimately feel that the original version, in all its hypnagogic glory, retains a certain charm as an unstreamable lo-fi curio. By removing all elements save voice and organ, we have what is essentially a different album. Whether it’s better or not, another Alice Coltrane album is nothing less than a gift.

The irony of Collapsed in Sunbeams is that Parks’ greatest strength also gives the album its most noticeable weaknesses. We are mainly here for her connecting songwriting, which means that the production – by Gianluca Buccellati – is restrained to allow her direct words to flow at their own behest.

Cheat Codes captures the glory of rap’s classic era and brings it to the present through thick mesmerizing samples and the rapper’s incredible vernacular.

The 10-song, 34-minute project crescendos, Powers perfecting his multifaceted craft while forging one of 2023’s more hypnotic sequences.

Even if it’s a bit much at times, Even in Exile could well be the best record Bradfield has lent his voice to since 2009’s Journal for Plague Lovers; it’s not a classic, but a very strong, autumnal call to arms.

Fans of the harsher tone and aesthetic may grumble at him leaving the sound of NEGRO behind, but it couldn’t be clearer that his nearly manic, uncontainable sense of creativity is not only still present, but is grasping further, sounding more expansive and less controlled than ever here. For those in a rut over the seemingly endless absence of Kendrick Lamar, you need look no further for boundlessly creative and irresistibly unique hip hop than GUMBO’!.

Shabazz Palaces have pushed the music forward, so that it once again can be raw, real, and unconventional.

This black abyss that Loop created is vast and infinite, and yes, even monotonous at times, but Hampson is shooting for the moon on Sonancy. He understands that it takes a rocket ship to get there – and those take time to build.

Such is the elegance and detail of Knox’s songwriting and voice – not to mention the exquisite instrumentation – that one can’t help but get swept up in it and extrapolate from it. In that regard, Won’t You Take Me With You is an unmitigated triumph from an artist who continues to dazzle and enthrall with each release.

The Whole Love is a solid return for Wilco, and hopefully them pushing their sound in more new directions as they have done here, particularly on the first and last tracks.

For those who can appreciate his brew of melodic honesty and sentimental openness, The Vivian Line provides one of the purest pop experiences you’re likely to have all year.

Cenizas is easily Jaar’s most experimental work, one that steers him far from his significance tied to dance-driven excellence. It exudes a different kind of excellence; though there are no hooks nor beats to catch listeners in his web of brilliance, Cenizas’ sonic allure and complete diversion into sounds rarely explored makes it Jaar’s most compelling project yet.

The results are fun as hell, yet it's hard not to feel like LV have accomplished something with some legs on it.

Nine Types of Light sounds familiar, but it's a good familiar.

Panda Bear has enough talent to make one of his less-than-monumental works worth a listen. And although Sonic Boom sometimes overstuffs the record with unnecessary sounds, his chemistry with Panda Bear is natural. Perhaps next time they’ll leave the toy in the box, though.

The tracks on G_d’s Pee AT STATE’S END! share a sense of triumphalism brought about by the communion of music. The album soundtracks the end times, while offering glimpses of hope.

The sonic corruption and disquieting sense of dread are accomplished with pure muscle alone. But instead of keeping this mindset out in the open, Metz just sweat it out over thirty jarring minutes.

With Creature Marling has delivered something that has her own personal sound throughout, but still manages to explore both lighter and darker territory.

It makes for one of the most challenging yet rewarding techno oddities of the year and we get the priviledge of seeing a producer honing his craft into something especially unique and cohesive.

It may demand time and focus, but for those interested in a hip hop album that seeks understanding rather than any immediate gratification, this is a quiet, restrained, and uniquely giving world.

All in all, Crawler is a return to form for IDLES, albeit with a handful of sub-par offerings. There’s still more than enough here for them to be rabble-rousing festival headliners, but also some tracks that offer up new ideas that they could carry forward.

With His Happiness Shall Come First Even Though We Are Suffering, Mutinta completes her heroic triptych. Processing her own fury and the fury stashed in the world’s memory. ... Leaving us stunned, devastated, ecstatic.

It appeals instantly with its impactful and unforgiving sonic palette, but feels much better when we delve in deeper and engage with the emotion of the words – and for that we must leave rationality at the door.

Cousin carries just about the same level of uniqueness as any other Wilco release. Icy and poised, with support from Cate Le Bon on production, it’s their most emotional yet composed record in some time.

The music, in all its messy beauty, hits like a sack of bricks to the head.

Now on the other side of forty, this is QOTSA as weary of mortality as they’ve ever been. They also sound as vital, forceful and rough around the edges as they have in over a decade. Welcome back, gentlemen.