Home Video is undeniably a Lucy Dacus album; one that’s a reflection of not only the rise of her star but of the ever-growing liberation that comes with emotional vulnerability.

A honed songwriting approach from Rankin seems to fuel Blue Rev, with only a few songs inching beyond three minutes. This excess-trimming approach makes Blue Rev the leanest the band has sounded, but also makes it their tightest work to date.

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

Sonically, Jenks and his crew opt for a simplicity that borders incidental music, a soundtrack to his existence as quotidian as the city streets. A familiar mixture of soulful jazz, jazzy soul, and beats that range from distorted snares to spartan R&B have one goal: stay out the way.

The music never gets in the way, and works pretty much perfectly to help the songs ebb and flow, and to heighten the best moments.

Three Mile Ditch is living proof that lightning does indeed strike the same place twice — and sometimes with a vengeance. Rumours of their death have been highly exaggerated, as The Wytches have never felt so alive.

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.

At only eight tracks, Badlands is a short album, but it packs plenty of ideas into its brevity.

nature morte is a wonderful, difficult album that requires patience and indulgence. The rewards are huge, though.

Her vision of R&B is unfiltered and uncompromising. At her most modern, she is advancing her genre rather than watering it down for current tastes. Things her songwriting could only hint at in the work of others are here in full, and they make for a beautiful end product.

The album is all about big and big is what you get.

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.

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

Scoff at them for being a bit too obvious with their name but Fuzz and Fuzz deliver the garage rock roar we’ve come to expect from Segall and Co.

Sonically Song For Our Daughter offers up a familiar feel, which is no doubt from the return of producer Ethan Johns (co-producing alongside Marling here). His touches feel light, but help add weight where necessary, be it with the greater presence of strings or the additional percussion (which never seeks to take the attention, regardless of how busy it is).

On her sophomore effort, Monsters, Kennedy doubles down on the eclectic nature of her music, offering up a lengthy set of songs that range from experimental electronica to a capella ballads.

It plays to their strengths in most places and often challenges them to retain the will to be original and innovative in their established modus.

As one of the most polarizing records in their extensive discography, this release is sure to divide certain fans, especially those who were disillusioned by the relative inaccessibility of Embryonic. For listeners looking for a noisy and thoroughly experimental album, though, The Terror is just what the doctor ordered.

For all of its well-intentioned flaws and near-immaculate production, this record hums with a life of its own, confident in the abilities of its creator.

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.

A Beginner’s Mind proves the two are not only capable of making beautiful music as a duo, but bodes well for their solo work to come — it’s yet another captivating plot point in their overarching narratives.

Granted, as they’ve smoothed out the rough edges a bit, some of the rugged immediacy has been lost, but they’ve more than make up for it in a newfound sense of lively rhythmic interaction.

Overall, the album occurs as less incendiary than previous work (with the exception of the opening track), DBT at least temporarily setting aside their polemical blowtorches, instead mindfully venturing into vivid inventories of their own lives, choices, and karmic trajectories.

Quite simply, Plumb is how pop music should sound.

With Again, Lopatin captures the numbing clutter and volatile emptiness of post-digital, post-humanistic life: the silence that chokes, the clamor that drowns. And while these aren’t original themes (numerous artists have explored these polarities), Lopatin’s response seems notably relevant and largely his own.

There is an efficiency to this album as a whole, a clear sense of purpose and direction which cannot be claimed for many of their albums, which tend to wander in a beautiful haze for however long it takes.

Telas continues to display his determination to explore completely new realms, even if that means sacrificing moments that immediately jump out, like a beat or a hook or even a repeated melody. This is one for the intrepid sonic explorers, unafraid to enter a world that doesn’t cohere to any structure they’ve known before – and if you go in with that mindset, there’s plenty to be unearthed.

With repeated listens, even the least of the songs still reach for that relaxing, carefree Best Coast vibe, but the feeling takes more work to achieve compared to the immediately lovable, attention-demanding nature of their entirely natural, easy-as-pie debut.

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.

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

Ultimately, Grace/Confusion is a production best staged in the theatre of your mind.

House of Woo suggests an artist who’s still coming into his own without being afraid to play chameleon at the DJ booth.

Now, clearly, the group has momentum on their side and seems locked into a promising direction. On the strength of these six songs, it now seems fitting to resuscitate those declarations.

Prophet is both eclectic and balanced, and the powerful imagination behind it makes it easier to forgive the occasional overindulgence.

There may only be 26 minutes of material in Book of Curses, but the amount of unsettling ideas and reflections of modern disenfranchisement are more than enough for it to leave its impact.

Arrangements shows the band as a whole accessing a new sense of purpose and creative liberation, planting another flag in the crowded postpunk landscape.

An inveterate realist, J Mascis isn't one for romanticism, and there's not a wealth of it to be found on Several Shades of Why.

This tendency that Williams has of interweaving her inner emotional climate with the breathable aura of nature was on magical display through last year’s debut album, I Was Born Swimming, and it’s something she hones further here.

Filled with drug-addled bangers and overcast slow-burns, each track on Starz is cut from a single cloth that veils the ever-evolving future of cloud rap, beginning with the explosive “My Agenda”.

This is a mini-album that does exactly what it’s meant to, in exactly the time that it takes to do so.

This is a good record, but I can't help thinking that The Low Anthem are on the verge of something great.

On the heels of the brilliant My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and the misunderstood Recovery Minaj follows in style by putting out an album interested in both hip hop and music that simply sounds great.

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.

Pinned up and thoroughly artistic, Field of Reeds is affecting, but it’s also hard to get genuinely excited about.

the record does manage to impress despite being vaguely familiar and prone to flights of guitar fancy for no other reason than it can.

It’s a shame there are a couple of tracks here that don’t quite meet the quality of the rest. ... Where The Loneliest Time works best is in its ability to provide sheer, plain honest fun.

Viagra Boys have successfully captured a side of the working class that demands empathy, and it’s their strongest statement to date.

For all its shortcomings, Watch the Throne is still damn good.

The production by Hollow Comet is bright and clean, and the instrumentation is tasteful — almost too tasteful, sometimes verging on a lighters-in-the-air radio pop sensibility. ... Regardless, Shamir has delivered arguably his finest album yet, by engaging with his pain and his curiosities about life, and giving us the privilege of bearing witness to it.

Mark Reign of Terror down as a fairly successful, but ultimately transitional work.

Rolling Golden Holy exudes a communal, back-to-basics charm. The threesome operate within an eternal country-folk formula of less-is-more that fosters a sense of instant familiarity.

Rhinestones might not make it on most publications’ year end lists, but it is the sort of record that will be cherished and rediscovered by those who need it for many years. It’s the kind of music that, when you meet somebody for the first time and they share their appreciation for it, could signify a kindred soul.

A new album from a new artist, with an old sound newly restored, think of this as a letter of recommendation to you, dear America.

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.

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.

As his catalogue continues to accumulate faster than just about every other artist out there, you can feel him growing more confident in himself and the ideas he bases his music on. Parallax can't help but feel like a win for this cause because it symbolizes growth more than out-and-out excellence.

It’s a topsy-turvy balancing act that she’s playing, but for the most part it’s successful. Clark flips between that groovy funk of the 70s, then back to her guitar rock days, and then, sure, she employs some more experimental and electronic moments that might come across as jarring to some. But it’s also just part of the brand that is St. Vincent in 2021.

You'll find records this year of greater agency, but you'd be hard-pressed to find one that renders pleasure with such poignant lightness, control, and willful attention to difference.

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.

There’s no point on Atlas Vending that feels wasted, no meandering or time-sucks; it’s just pure adrenaline rock expertly produced and delivered piping hot.

Villagers may not hit the feels like All My Friends Are Funeral Singers did, but it’s nonetheless a prime example of an impeccable songwriter still operating at a consistent high.

Rentals is uniformly great, and each track boasts its share of both gorgeous instrumentation and lines that are alternately poetic and prosaic.

Post-punk bands tend to veer dark and brooding, but Dehd avoid that here, putting all of their energy into sunny anthems filled with dizzying coos, lighthearted hooks and charming rhythms. It all helps them bounce across the record and into our hearts for good.

His voice soulfully conveys the journey in all its deviations and obstacles unflinchingly while still providing listeners with the means to immerse themselves and bop their heads along.

The music feels traditional, yet modern and accessible.

Release definitely sees Pangaea staying ahead of the game, voyaging without hesitation into unchartered territories while keeping a foot in familiar UK bass strains.

While it's not as subtle or as elegantly constructed as Beast Rest Forth Mouth, this record has a kineticism and momentum that Beast lacked.

Not since Everything’s Fine has Quelle Chris sounded so surefire and determined. He wears beats with flair now, and lyrically he’s in top form, moving like a chameleon behind the mic and in front. Deathfame is easily the best solo outing for Chris so far.

What makes Collapse Into Now so satisfying is that it isn't a return to form so much as a realization that the band R.E.M. are now isn't necessarily a bad thing to be.

These tracks strut with a more upbeat cadence and disposition, without straying from the same earthbound concerns that marked Erez’s previous material.

Though Ventriloquizzing doesn't demonstrate the best the quartet have to offer, it's a perfect overview of their different sides, and proof that they remain one of our most consistently entertaining bands.

It’s both grand introduction and complacent victory lap; both urgent and laid back, all at once, constantly.

The album still comprises some truly enchanting touches that could only have come from him, and often they appear when working around a vocalist. These pop turns envision a world where radio hits have a bit more depth and experimentation, and if Lopatin’s output can continue to minutely steer mainstream music that way, then so much the better.

The fact that this doesn't sound like a solo project at all is a testament to the success of its expansive vision.

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

The album, with all of its imperfections and warmly textured moments, feels well-worn and comfortable-despite its often acerbic lyrical habits.

The album is an alluring, heady mix of skewed folktronica, avant garde noise and opulent orchestral tones which combine to cement Eartheater’s place in every discerning music fan’s end of year lists.

While shame is less ecstatic than its predecessor, it certainly doesn’t find the duo of Megan Markwick and Lily Somerville holding back – there are a multitude more complex and tangled feelings to be unknotted here.

Without striving to be as overtly melodramatic as some of her contemporaries, Murray harnesses that desperation which Portishead's Beth Gibbons manages to pull off so well but by containing and internalising it, manages to offer a refreshingly navel-gazing approach to the pysche of the modern lover.

It’s fun, it’s furious, and just about anyone should be able to appreciate that.

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.

Instead of wry irony or wallowing in hopeless abandon, Pale Horse Rider achieves something more like a fellow soul joining in on watching a fire in the distance.

With Transcendental Youth, the Mountain Goats have proven that they're more than capable of engaging us with even without the unimpeachable witticisms of their frontman.

The diversity is so vast and so well done that it’s almost commendable. Mainly though, it’s just a bit much for one sitting, and instead feels more like you’re listening to The 1975 radio on Spotify.

A solidly realized full-length record, Radio Red is a welcome addition to an already outstanding catalog.

It’s big, heavy, and worthy to soundtrack plenty of dancefloors. The only thing Ghost System Rave is arguably missing is the real personality from its creators.

Clocking in under 30 minutes with only nine tracks, Cool Dry Place is a lovely breeze of a listen, and truthfully, a nearly flawless record. Except for a couple of moments of autotune and lo-fi weirdness, Kirby generally plays it safe, musically, which leaves one wanting a tiny bit more from a talent like herself.

Together with longtime bandmates Jason Narducy (bass) and Jon Wurster (drums), Mould has created his strongest album since 2012’s Silver Age. Their chemistry soars on the wild tracks “When You Left” and “Racing to the End” as much as on the somber closer “The Ocean”.

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.

Despite the varying shifts of the album, nothing feels bloated or outstays its welcome and that in itself is quite an achievement on a record like this. Direct when it needs to be, ethereal and gorgeously distant at other times, May You Be Held is not for the casual listener seeking instant gratification.

While there are some issues with the feeling of déjà vu, Unknown Rooms doesn't really do anything noticeably off the mark.

In the end Black Girl Magic accomplishes two very important goals of any record: reminding you Honey Dijon is an artist to watch, and being quite a fun listen.

While it has quite a few tracks that stand out, besides the glamorous opener, due to their use of pathos-laden synthesizer hooks (“Ben Franklin”, “Headlock”) and moody refrains (“Glory”, “Automate”), the gentle ballads and groovy mid-tempo tracks that make up the album’s second act don’t seem as stylized or aggressively emotional musically as their lyrics demand.

This is a generous, compulsively enjoyable statement, unburdened of commercial pressure in a way that’s all too rare in this numbers game.

As a stepping stone forward and backward, No Elephants preserves her musical legacy while subtly altering her own approach to these sounds.

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.

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.

Voyageur is a very fine record and only a couple of songs short of a great one, with Edwards' vocals and songs plus the warm-yet-crisp production being the main attractions.