Even though Because The Internet is kind of strange and kind of a bummer, it does show Glover’s range as a musician.

And things simmer along just fine like that right ’til the end with 3 Seconds To Cross, a breezy, snare rim-tapping rumination on sunny California.

The trio proves it has a fat bag of tricks: floaty fast rhymes (Get’n Drunk), high gravity boom bap (Troublesome) and haunting alien lullabies (Nobody). But the fact that it’s Earl Sweatshirt’s heavy-lidded guest verse in Cold World that’s still stuck in my head probably means MellowHigh still has a few kinks to work out.

Surrender To The Fantasy is a reminder that Magik Markers is sort of an absurdist band at heart, willing to moon their audience and then have an intellectual conversation about it.

Despite some loopier diversions, DeGraw’s solo flight is more precise than GGD, and the appeal of his technicolor melodies rely on that cleaner simplicity.

Those with some patience will eventually get a smattering of the heavy, grainy goods on This Song Is Over, Warble Womb‘s tellingly penultimate track. This certainly doesn’t make the album a wash--the swampy tunes are still fairly enjoyable. But it does change the formula for the band.

Detroyer missteps are rare, and while Five Spanish Songs won’t go down as one of his most memorable albums (even the title implies this is a somewhat tossed-off diversion), it shows that he can continue to take risks and create albums that both placate and challenge his listeners.

The only mild complaint would be that some tracks feel a little too long (even for the genre) and sometimes a tad repetitive.

This impatience turns into a tension, and this tension is what allows for ten tracks of what are essentially love ballads to remain interesting after repeated listens.

A little more daylight would balance out the vibe. But that’s a minor complaint. In fact, on further listens it becomes the album’s appeal.

Fulvimar has, all at once, figured out what works and built up the self-assurance to do just that.

Frustratingly, the album’s lowest point comes directly after one of its high points.... That’s not to say that Surfing Strange isn’t impressive as a whole.

Matangi‘s top moments aren’t riddled with thumping bass or explosive mania. They are steady builds, relatively simple and not of a too specific trend moment, plus they have feeling.

YT // ST is not subtle, yet it’s still simultaneously visceral and generally accessible, while maintaining its unique voice.

It’s stickily saccharine with spiky edges.

Plan The Escape and No Crimes are largely uplifting, though the descending bass line and drum combo on Crimes sounds like Queens Of The Stone Age doing Go With The Flow Light; and pseudo-ripped Depeche Mode lyrics like, “All you ever wanted, all you ever need” make for the album’s most clichéd moment.

My Night, My Time is a pop album that’s offbeat in its self-awareness and on point with the steep hooks and expansive beats that make pop music pop.

Cut 4 Me ends leaving the listener with a dizzying feeling and a cooly slowed pulse. Now we have expectations.

The album a treasure, yes, but unarguably generic too.

As its title implies, the record is full of a dynamism that sometimes sets it apart from others out there, and will undoubtedly show listeners a good time.

At 19 tracks, Old can get a little taxing, as if Brown, in an effort to be expansive, just decided to be everything all at once.... But you’ll forget about that once you realize that Handstand‘s beat is a dizzying tornado of synth and buzz that’s unlike anything you’ve heard before.

Its stargazed, overly ambitious arrangements sometimes become so intricate that they deplete some of the fun. That said, multiple spins produce a mind-numbing experience that echoes the duo’s desired midnight, candlelight aura.

This sixth, self-titled album shows a noticeable maturation.

[A] fine new Joanna Gruesome record.

His delivery is raw, at times off-key, almost too rugged. Despite those lapses, the song retains the album’s overarching concept, which favors music in its most natural form.

Enough of the sticky, fuzzy guitar rush remains (“Middle Sea”), though often only sneaking in and out of songs. Overall, the band continues towards an unfussy clarity to the instrumentation.

There’s no doubt that Royal Bangs are fully capable of splicing a broader set of influences into their quixotic mix, and Brass offers several great glimpses into a sonic evolution in progress. It’s just a shame that the metamorphosis isn’t quite complete.

“Organic” seems like the best way to describe Alexis Georgopoulos’s MORE. But paradoxically, it’s also an overstuffed, satisfyingly bloated fantasy as well.