Thanks to the commercial success of the new class of R&B singers like The Weeknd and Frank Ocean, Otis’ sultry R&B has found a market in 2013.

Refractory Obdurate sounds a clamorous warning that something is nigh. Rather than a direct message, Edwards offers only a shatter of brimstone pieces.

Tonally, they hit the same nail on the head more than a few times, but each strike lands true and strong.

Popular Problems flashes the exact same brilliance and suffers the exact same setbacks[as his last album]--namely that Cohen’s vocals continue their dark, leathery tumble into the lowest registers and that the production can be too syrupy, respectively.

Whereas LCD’s previous album, This Is Happening, felt coherent as the project displayed a love of disco, American Dream feels happy sampling from many of the band’s established recording styles.

Altogether this album feels like its own artifact in the making, ready to haunt listeners and filter its Morse code and snapshot stories through their speakers for years to come.

Where the harsh, cold production of drill echoes the harsh, cold sentiments, Chance’s voice and the multi-faceted production are all about change, examining any little moment that might provide some fun and relief.

The missteps of narrative are easily paved over by the energy, power, and fun of the music. As such, rather than feeling constrained or overwrought, this is a concept album where you can forget the concept for a while and just dive right in.

There are too many impressive performances on Surf to focus on just one man’s achievements, and Chance has to be proud of that.

The more you spin it, the more you wear out that thin needle of your record player, you realize that Granduciel is discovering the problems of his life, not figuring them out or even reflecting on them. This all makes for an album that truly sounds like it’s coming to life.

With this collection, she proves that she was not just a shot in the dark or a blaze lighting up the sky for only a moment.

Lamar delivered untitled unmastered. as if it were a whim, and yet it works as such a powerful statement of the duality of his existence--driven yet humble, fed up yet excited, frustrated yet joyful, casual yet serious.

Throughout Whitechapel’s career, they’ve built constantly upon their sound; it’s with The Valley that Whitechapel not only provide their best work in years but take the next step up in their artistry.

Poison Season is beautiful, haunting, thrilling, but inherently challenging, as Bejar challenges himself and his listeners equally.

The rapping is impeccable, and the project doesn’t overstay its welcome.

Learning how to untangle one of the richest experimental albums of recent memory becomes a challenge well worth the undertaking.

A fascinating look at a day in the life of an artist at his absolute pinnacle.

While the individual songs have peaks and purpose, the album winds up functioning on the same level.

Stranger To Stranger is poof positive that Simon isn’t simply still here, but he’s kicking with gusto. In a year where good news has been fleeting for classic rock fans, Simon’s latest is worth grabbing onto with both hands.

Morbid Stuff is a bold step forward for PUP, an incredibly mature record given how filled with anger and contempt it is, containing true moments of insight. Even the more straightforward bitter break-up songs like “See You at Your Funeral” and “Closure” have a self-awareness to them to offset the vitriol.

Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers is another bonafide masterpiece.

While looking for 50 Words For Snow, she has found 50 other original ways to express herself effortlessly, creating another intriguing piece of work.

There are gems here.

The rest of the album sees the group continue to rip from the history of punk to make something decidedly fresh.

For its lyrical and musical scope, Malibu brings to mind a number of excellent albums, ranging from Stevie Wonder’s Innervisions to, yes, Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly.

This record transports listeners through an intensely vivid journey, presenting a different side to PJ Harvey’s creative genius, one that proves profound art cannot be forced.

Impossible Truth is flecked with everything from jazz to psychedelic and Spaghetti Western. Maybe this kind of depth is more common with instrumental music, but regardless, this is an uncommonly good album.

The Detroit rock veterans’ most refined release yet, Relatives in Descent is a sermon on truth, anxiety, and our lack of understanding of the world around us. As ever, Casey is our trusty narrator, leading us through the darkness with his signature brand of wit, wisdom, and bitterness; like a winning combination of Drunk Uncle and Mark E. Smith, he is both commanding and pitiful in his delivery.