The roominess and the variety are what make this album so interesting.

It's a wise, mature labyrinth of an album that's both filled with vibrant life and haunted by death.

With her experiences and experimentation, she has combined and refined her sound to make it something that is similar and yet totally separate from anything she’s done before. St. Vincent isn’t afraid of being different or taking risks, and thinks we shouldn’t be either.

It’s that sonic gluttony that makes Holter’s production an alluring tryst that’s hard to let go of come curtain call.

["Be Above It"] sets the tone for an album that follows closely in the sonic footsteps of its predecessor while occupying a more streamlined headspace.

And if you are a big fan of the band-and if you invested in the reissue, that's probably a given--this will give you hours of quality material to get lost in. But if you're not super familiar with the band, aside from being able to identify that Corgan is that vampiric-looking bald guy, then use this reissue as an excuse to revisit--or just visit--this album.

The result is a beautifully poignant and cinematic album, a post-hardcore masterpiece.

You’ll be hard pressed to find another album that’s this much fun to crawl inside.

Too Bright is a near immaculate work. It’s bold but vulnerable and finds Hadreas taking risks in structure, content and sound.

It's a complex listen that strays from the tropes of standard R&B.

Unbound by convention, Daft Punk seamlessly included whatever the hell they wanted on this record. Not just because they’re musically sublime robots from a future of hovercrafts and Judy Jetson discotheques, but because Daft Punk knows when to edit and when to fall free.

This is very much her record-it's a fractured gorgeousness, with Garbus embracing her oddness in a gesture of self-love that results in an alarming, startling, fun and playful record.

A clean, laid-back production and ambitious lyrical themes.

Written and recorded herself, Are We There, her fourth full-length, is a Sharon Van Etten record through-and-through.

Where For Emma, Forever Ago thrived on its sparseness, the new record's sound is richly and carefully layered.

It's definitely not pop-more like battery acid-but in such talented hands, chaos becomes catchy.

Of the two rappers here, Killer Mike gets the most quotable lines, turning simple statements into punchlines and investing each syllable with a sense of rhythmic possibility.... Despite abandoning some of the more layered and mannered production flourishes of his solo work, El-P still packs these songs with stray details--the roar of a tiger, those gorgeous organs, the squeal of a dolphin--that can be jarring on first listen but gradually reveal themselves to be essential.

Everything feels full and complete, with each song taking a life of it’s own, while still contributing equally as much to the larger concept.

Space Is Only Noise is a paradox. It's a dance album that can't be danced to, a lounge album that you actually want to listen to, but most importantly, it's an electronic album with emotion.

LP1 takes the humid isolation of Twigs’ EP1 and EP2 and twists it into ten tracks of relationship Hail Marys. But there’s a subdued sense of strength running under Barnett’s pleas that translates into a dark confidence, and in that tension is where LP1 finds its best moments.

The record is engineered so that he never has to. Listen past the last track and be introduced to Acid Rap all over again as a voice promises on loop that it’ll be “Even better than the last time.”

To hear the band members tell it, David Comes To Life is the record they've been working up to for the past 10 years, a grandiose statement that closes off the first chapter of Fucked Up's history. It's anybody's guess as to how they'll follow something like this, but we're already excited for chapter two.

We know that there’s still plenty of life and love and pain to come, but we’re pretty okay with it. In fact, we’re ready to hit the road and let Lost In The Dream pull us in again and again.

It would be incorrect to say that the duo is pushing “weird” to its sonic limits; “curiosity,” mostly in the space of the extremes of human personality, would be most apropos.

Whether he’s softly plucking away or spinning a complicated web of chords, Tyler’s music is transportive in the sense that it can offer an escape from just about anywhere.

In between the soul-searching, Fleet Foxes cranks out some pretty great singalong songs. And that's what it's all about, isn't it?

As Phosphorescent continues to evolve as a project, widening its range and sharpening its lyrical acumen, that commitment has become more apparent, culminating in his best album yet.

Instead of feeling like a testing ground for a series of wild experiments, White has crafted a collection of hushed character sketches worthy of Randy Newman or Bill Callahan.