It would have been fascinating to see the band take a drastic turn and lean into experimentation, but instead they’ve returned with a relatively underwhelming fifth album.

Ventura is lean and lovely.

No Geography is sprawling, terror inducing, and absolutely primed for the dancefloor.

This is undoubtedly the band’s fiercest record.

With hits this tailored and successfully executed, the group’s roof-shattering popularity comes as no surprise in the least.

Where genre and production experimentation may lead others astray, Jones brings a particular grace to songwriting that allows her to adapt almost seamlessly to new forms. Begin Again revels in exploration, proving no territory is inaccessible to Jones.

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.

While she hasn’t quite inherited the pop monarchy from Swift and the other elites, Eilish’s debut makes a strong case that it won’t be long until we see her in a crown.

My Finest Work Yet is a strong collection of music buoyed by Bird’s mastery as a musician, recognizable whistling melodies, and , thoughtful lyrics. He does get political and inevitably opens himself up to criticism for it, but he does so with a light touch that doesn’t overpower the songs. Even if listeners disagree with Bird’s views, they’ll still enjoy the music.

Eraserland is a somewhat indulgent listen. While it can occasionally lash out for a moment (“Moon Landing”), it might be best to tighten up the compositions for the next go-round.

Empath is another fine addition to the ever-growing / never-ending Devin Townsend discography, and shows that Townsend should one day also be enshrined into this elite “musical chameleon” category, as well.

On the Line isn’t a breakup album, a death album, or even a “fuck-you” album, but one that encompasses all of it, ambitious and introspective, focused on embracing the mess and mistakes made along the way.

While wearing their influences on their sleeve, they deliver a lush and compact package of fleeting ballads to get lost in.

The resulting music ranks among Avey Tare’s strongest work of the ’10s, whether alone or with Animal Collective, and should be required listening for any old Millennial scared of turning 40 but even more scared of the alternative.

Live in London delivers more than an hour and a half of seamless music and comedy that doesn’t require skipping around.

Lux Prima is a beautiful little album: Ambitious, dreamy, and short enough to leave you wanting more.

Groove Denied is the sound of Malkmus truly untethered, and once you get past the initial jolt of its radical stylistic change, you’ll recognize it for being the great album it is. Don’t let the ascetic nature of the arrangements fool you. Malkmus is trying to blow our minds, and he succeeds spectacularly.

The carefully composed rock here reminds us that our journeys are our own, regardless of whatever else we tack onto them. No matter how full Donnelly’s hands get with the interpersonal frustrations of day-to-day life and the wounds of the past, the world is still hers for the taking, and she makes it feel like it’s all of ours, too.

It can wander into some weird areas, but it still feels tethered to a clear objective. It’s hard not to take notice when a bunch of like-minded friends come together to make something this personal and imaginative.

By Rap or Go to the League, 2 Chainz is a veteran rapper of a certain age who posits himself to be at the top of his game. Unlike the outsized projections rap stars routinely make to seem more powerful, 2 Chainz assessment of himself is actually correct.

Twenty years in, Dido knows what she’s good at, even as she’s learned some new tricks. She makes these influences seem perfectly natural and has stretched herself without sounding frayed.

Longtime fans will know what to expect from the indie-rock band that’s been releasing records since the mid-aughts, but predictability isn’t always a fault. The Brit rockers fully understand what they excel at, and they take advantage of the syncopated brashness that they best exemplify.

When I Get Home is universal because of Solange’s deep respect for her own home. The way she switches beats and flows constantly surprises, even on a tenth listen, unraveling new riches each time. Solange’s latest mystifies and stuns, leaving you awestruck as she cements her legacy as a true generational voice.

Sky Blue isn’t the Van Zandt record that’ll turn new fans on to his genius. It’s the type of compilation that’ll help his longtime listeners better understand the many shades of that talent.

Even though Hozier doesn’t bring anything immensely innovative to the album, Wasteland, Baby! is still a delightful experience that radiates with feeling.

Offset splits his time between personal stories and generalized trapping, with mixed results. When he finds the right flow, few can match him for sheer musical joy. Other times he sound flat and stale. ... You have to respect the work ethic that produced these 16 tracks, even if many of them don’t merit a second listen.

The album flow is really smooth, as focused and catchy tracks like “Paralyzed” co-exist well with songs that take longer to unfold and have lengthier progressive sections, such as “Fall Into the Light” and “Pale Blue Dot”. The musicianship is flawless.

She uses the body and the spaces it consumes and shrinks within as a driving theme throughout Crushing, uncovering the journeys her own body has taken as a romantic partner, a friend, a woman, and a world-touring musician.

Lyrics have never been the strongest part of either of their music, and this is no exception. But there’s enough skill and joy in this music to make the listening worthwhile, even if Lennon and Claypool can sound at times like the cranky, old uncles of psychedelic rock.

At only nine tracks, Methyl Ethel has no time for filler, so they make a statement whenever they can. During the first listen, you may pick up on some of their faults, but multiple visits can expose you to all their hidden treasures.

Of course, the album is a highly polished product and not some diary page. But it feels lived in, truthful, authentic.

Over the course of its 12 tracks, the record manages to redeem the spotty moments of the band’s comeback record, remind listeners of the endurance of the hits that came before, and, in Whang’s increased vocal role, even hint at some potential evolutions to come. Most importantly, it gives us the best picture yet of a live act that’s always been surprisingly difficult to commit to tape.

The lyrics paint a picture of discomfort and restlessness, which grows over the course of the album into a fully formed portrait of personal strength, creativity, and hard-eyed refusal in the face of the harassment of time.

Some fresh attention on Gentry’s short but blazing career with the help of Mercury Rev and their co-conspirators here is a welcome development. That notion alone helps ease the minor disappointments that this well-meaning tribute serves up and elevates the best work on Delta Sweete Revisited even higher.

Pratt astutely portrays the hole that grows during a profound loss, the questions that emerge that can’t be answered. Quiet Signs offers solace in place of definitive resolution as it drifts by, able to capture so much with so little at play.

For a moment of respite, a calming breath against the rush of modern life, Buoys is a fine balm in spite of its shortcomings.

The central conceit of the album is one of growing up. This comes through on a track-by-track basis, like on “All Blacked Out”, an older, folksy demo expanded in its new form into something much richer. But it’s also a sweeping feeling that the arc of the album as a whole supports, as it travels from gritty early tracks like “Lucy’s” and “Pretty”--a lovely, economical introduction to the band’s style--toward more exploratory ventures, like “What Chaos Is Imaginary” and the adventurous development of “Swamp and Bay”.

It’s like live band karaoke, and everyone is invited, which is all this really boils down to at the end of the day. They’re not reinventing the wheel; they’re using it.

More a revitalizing burst of energy than a passing of the torch, Better Oblivion Community Center frequently finds Bridgers and Oberst bringing out the best of each other.

FIDLAR have always been creatively bold, and their dabbling with musical variety is merely an extension of that. Making a starkly different-sounding record is a creative gamble, but FIDLAR rolled their dice and made off well.

In U2 terms,That’s the Spirit was BMTH’s Achtung Baby, where they introduced a new sound, and amo is their Zooropa, where they’ve taken that sonic evolution one step further.

Across 11 tracks, the band keeps listeners engaged thanks to a spread of bluesy rock. Electric rhythms intertwine with warm vocals and glowing melodies throughout Feral Roots, making for an experience where listeners will find something different to enjoy in each track.

A 20-track album is a lot. But with The WIZRD, one can barely feel it because of the smooth flow from track to track. Even the few misses don’t disrupt the rhythm of the project.

This isn’t so much an evolution, but a complete restructuring of Van Etten’s sound. It’s her OK Computer if you want to get frank.

Even with a finale that slightly underwhelms, Assume Form is a remarkable achievement by one of the most original songwriters of his generation. Blake hasn’t lost his love of percussion, and his gift for melody seems without limit. This is Blake at his most focused, stripped of electronic frills, and down to his emotional underwear.

Though less immediate, Why Hasn’t Everything Already Disappeared? still bristles with the spirit that makes Deerhunter’s work mystifying. Along with Fading Frontier, the album presents a new era for Deerhunter, one more contemplative and spacious yet continually beguiling.

It’s clear that Rogers took her time to create a project that encompassed her journey thus far and is bursting with energy and daring you to dance. More so, she doesn’t stray from slower, emotional ballads like “Past Life”, a track that bears a resounding similarity to early Stevie Nicks, proving the duality of her craft. If anything, this record is a formal announcement: Maggie Rogers is here to stay.

21 Savage’s ability to express a variety of feelings allows the music to stand out at times and become more than a generic gangsta rap presentation. It’s unfortunate, then, that the record finds itself held back by unfeeling and monotonous takes on issues like gun violence. Overall, i am > i was is a mixed bag of experience that offers enough solid tracks to keep fans latched on.

Ice Cube’s social consciousness makes Everythang’s Corrupt a refreshing release. From beginning to end, Cube’s maturity as an artist shines; the songs in which he acknowledges his achievements feel well earned because the primary focus stays on social injustice.

At her best, she turns simple observations into complex emotions. The Pains of Growing has its flaws, but altogether it’s a cohesive statement and a marked improvement from her debut.

These albums are as close as we can get to traveling back in time to see one of our greatest at his best.

While the Audemars-Piguet and Rolls-Royce Wraith have not disappeared from the equation and Meek Mill’s affinity for the finer things is still intact, his conscience is the crown jewel of Championships.

It’s yet another deep, personal, reflective album that’ll impress listeners but, in this instance, leave them only partially satisfied.

It’s the work of a seasoned songwriter proving that he’s as good at penning powerful, personal songs in a traditional vein as he is layering records with bells and whistles.

Previously, Mariah Carey has made it clear that she’s been through too much to care what anyone else thinks, shrugging off critics and denying all drama. On Caution, Carey has channeled that energy into the music itself.

The 1975 don’t presume to have all the answers, but their sincerity and vulnerability make for a tremendous record that speaks to the state we live in. It’s their best work yet.

A slight lack of focus, and an ending that’s more of a whimper than a bang, detract from an otherwise impressive major label debut.

It does work as a bulwark against the cherry-picking, playlist-happy listening habits of the modern music fan. It works best as a complete dose of bitter medicine; a groove-happy message of fear, love, and measured hope.

Though “experimental” may be a bit of an overstatement, the best parts of Delta prove that, in the hands of the right producer, Mumford & Sons remain capable of recording radio-ready earworms that challenge expectations (a little, at least) while still retaining the major qualities that made them superstars in the first place.

It might not be the same magic, but something magical is coursing through Shiny and Oh So Bright, Vol. 1., hinting at a future we can all embrace--especially Corgan.

FM! features the rapper in his raw form and representing his love for the west coast. Whether you decide to hit play in chronological order or skip around, this album will have you bobbing your head at any point. FM! is a sunny day that not even being stuck in LA traffic can ruin.

Pieces of a Man might not be what you whistle to in the bathroom or what you have on repeat for days, but Mick Jenkins’ lyrical and creative performance make this an album that you’ll need to return to.

Suspiria benefits from Yorke’s attention to atmosphere. But there’s no getting around the fact that perhaps half of the soundtrack is unmemorable and (out of context, at least) incredibly dull. There’s a right way to experience this music, and that’s by viewing the film, just as Yorke intended.

It’s sad and sweet and lovely and brutal.

While some edits could have crafted a more concise record, this grand, indulgent piece finds Holter at the height of her ability. Even the quiet periods are always entrancing.

Fans hoping for a repeat of the accessibility and groove of the self-titled album or the spasticity and rawness of earlier albums might be disappointed, but You Won’t Get What You Want is a brave and excellent addition to Daughters’ discography.

It’s arguably the most modern score he’s ever composed, cutting with a minimalistic edge that might make Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross blush. Even so, the score never loses that Carpenter charm, keeping a tight grip on its origins without sneezing from all the dust.

The heavy songs on Evolution should please longtime fans, with a couple harkening back to the dynamism of Disturbed’s first couple of albums, but the glut of softer tracks may have been served better on a separate acoustic EP.

A ferocious album that finds them diving headfirst into experimentation, it is filled to the brim with a driving energy that rarely lets up. Striking the precarious balance of melding their pop inclinations with uproarious noise, Cloud Nothings push the dial back in the right direction.

These woozy explorations don’t always result in anything more than a pleasant 10 minutes or so, but taken together, they combine to form one more data point for the argument that Kurt Vile’s artistic trajectory remains, as always, on an upward slant.

There’s an uncommon chemistry and flow between Gunna, Lil Baby, and the producers that makes this far more than your typical collaboration.

Look Now is another solid entry into an already healthy and vital body of work. It’s not his absolute best, but it still earns a spot in the meatier part of his iconic recording arc.

I Loved You At Your Darkest is another strong addition to Behemoth’s remarkable run, which has now lasted more than a quarter century. It reveals some welcome growth within a subgenre of heavy music that has often been resistant to evolution.

Yes, the listening experience would have been improved with tighter editing, but there are a great many sins in the world, and a soundtrack being too-faithful to the movie is hardly the worst. There’s real joy in this music.

It’s more streamlined yet just as powerful as previous albums. Although the flow of Electric Messiah occasionally drags in parts, it’s a welcome addition to the band’s discography.

If you’re already a fan of Voivod, then you know how incredibly unique they are, and the quality of songwriting on The Wake is top-notch, making it one of the strongest metal albums of the year. Voivod have progressed exponentially since their raw punkish days.

Wanderer is neither as harrowing as Moon Pix nor as kaleidoscopic as Sun, but it shows a mature artist who rides the waves of tumultuous experience--no less excellent for containing her multitudes.

After this long of a layoff, we’d probably be satisfied if a new Chic record simply ticked all of the expected Chic-shaped boxes and nothing more. However, for its first two-thirds at least, It’s About Time never settles for a pure nostalgia play.

Despite its intimacy, Piano & A Microphone doesn’t feel like trespassing on Prince because it doesn’t truly expose him. This recording doesn’t reveal the nuts-and-bolts inner workings of one of the greatest artists of all time. How could it? We get to listen as a visionary works with simple tools--and in the end, Prince’s genius remains as mysterious as ever.

Though compact, For My Crimes is far from slight and marks another welcome addition into what’s become one of the best runs of the 2010s.

Iridescence is full-to-bursting; it’s like almost eating too much food, almost drinking too much booze; it’s getting close to too much, and still asking for more.

It’s groovy and funky and sultry, and it takes things seriously while still being joyful. It encourages freedom of form, in the sense of both body and art. It’s the perfect second album for Christine and the Queens.

For her sixth studio album, Carrie Underwood has taken some modest political risks without changing her full-throated style. She knows what she’s good at, and Cry Pretty is full of the kind of songs that made her one of the most popular artists in the world.

The pleasure of Room 25 is in hearing a master wordsmith turn words into feelings so that the feelings linger long after the words have stopped.

Collapse is another entry in a remarkable run of work that Aphex Twin has been releasing since his return from a long and clearly necessary hiatus. It may feel like he is on cruise control a bit, but James’ coasting is any other artist’s magnum opus.

A more focused sonic direction would have been more potent and a more adventurous one would have been more exciting. Still, every track delivers a bruising and it’s hard to imagine anyone interested in the group being disappointed by the album.

It stands tall as a late candidate for the year’s best rock record. Spiritualized has added yet another chapter to its wild, dreamlike musical legacy, proving that rock isn’t dead and that maybe everyone else just isn’t trying enough.

As a whole, the album may not be impeccable, but it’s the best he’s released since 2010.

Egypt Station is a minor entry in a major catalog, a Paul McCartney record for people who like Paul McCartney records.

Bloom is a fun record, dreamy and vulnerable and urgently horny. Sivan has a fresh perspective, and his force of personality enlivens tracks that otherwise might sound conventional. His best songs perform a kind of magic, with sentiments that feel universal to all of us and as personal as a fingerprint.

This is great pop music with an edge, a record full of good vibes and bad attitude that somehow manages to work everything out splendidly.

Negro Swan is a grand work that gives credit to the pioneers of the culture while building a path forward within that framework, placing Hynes firmly in the canon as one of the most insightful musicians of his generation.

While not the strongest of the band’s second-era output, it’s a nice addition to Alice in Chains’ impressive discography.

Marauder is still Interpol, and it’s still pretty good. It’s got mood and emotion for days. But because the album is marred by nonexistent bass lines and, most concerningly, production and mixing choices that run completely at odds with Interpol’s natural strengths and most beloved idiosyncrasies, it’s nowhere near great.

It’s rare for an album with so many stunning moments to suddenly become so aggressively mediocre. Still, the highs of Sweetener outweigh the lows. But with such lofty highs, it’s hard to be content with the album that is and not think about what the album might have been.

Be the Cowboy shows that love and loss can be grand and small at the same time. That two minutes is more than enough time to melt down emotion into a pure concentrate and nearly drown yourself in it. That every moment can be a epic love story, that every heartbreak can be as hard and small as a pearl and just as coveted.

At this point, she’s like a Starbucks coffee, a consistent product with a reliable buzz. The next cup probably won’t change your life, but it might just get you through the day.

Though it doesn’t quite reach the heights of his first two, his new album, Stay Dangerous, is another solid project from one of the best on the West Coast.