Janka holds the reigns here, expertly blending the warmth of his half-tuneless lyrics amid a mad swarm of instrumentation and voices. Still, the songs come across as a massive group effort.

The music carries the listener throughout each track, making for a meditative experience. With Birth of Violence, Chelsea Wolfe offers a compelling work brimming with emotion and dreamy wonder.

With its gritted teeth and threats of violence, “If This Tour Doesn’t Kill You I Will” sets the tone for the rest of The Dream Is Over, a feral animal of an album that frequently lashes out without warning.

Her newest release, Pain is Beauty, takes listeners to the highest of highs, all thanks to Wolfe’s willingness to get low and descend even further into the gloom-hole.

Saturation III is the shortest, hookiest, and best, though, for no better reason than they are cooking by now, pithily commenting on police brutality, drug addiction, and receiving head.

Wolf Parade isn’t afraid to dive deep. While they don’t always emerge with pearls, the effort is commendable, and one that leaves us hoping that the next time they swim away into the dark, they won’t take so long to find their way back.

Every aspect is written and performed impeccably, with track sequencing that highlights both the variety of the material and the wisdom of its concepts. True to its intentions, then, The Million Masks of God is a gorgeously tuneful and thought-provoking gem.

There’s nothing new under the sun or on this record, but when the riffs are crisp and the harmonies tight, that’s a complaint that’s at least a couple of spots down the list. The Raconteurs won’t save rock and roll, but they’ll certainly help us pass the time until we find whoever will.

She offers a deeply internal side to her world, buoyed by a production style rich with grains and echoes.

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.

At nine songs and just over 36 minutes, Fading Frontier is a filler-free opus of experimental rock splendor that never lags and always intrigues.

Dropkick Murphys continue to do what they do best on Turn Up That Dial, churning out an album full of upbeat Celtic riffs and sing-along choruses.

One has to dig deep and fight uphill to connect here, but that climb results in a rewarding, fascinating listen.

Banga doesn't just preserve a petrified version of Patti Smith circa Horses; rather, it's fresh and innovative, albeit disjointed.

If you want true avant-garde hip-hop, you’re better off looking elsewhere. If it’s a melodic, cohesively produced collection of rap songs you’re after, you could do a lot worse.

They [the songs] all sit well next to each other, but that feeling of “next to each other” rather than “supporting each other” can be difficult to shake.

It’s hard not to wish Never were the way she was would stretch further and reach out to the horizon the way each musician’s solo albums have. But much like a masterfully rendered novella, Stetson and Neufeld leave you wanting more.

Van Etten has all the right tools to make a great album.

Thanks to Cronin's studio drummer, producer, and fuzz friend, Ty Segall, the record has plenty of dirt all over it, placing the overarching tone of the album somewhere between Velvet Underground's Loaded and The White Stripes' White Blood Cells.

It’s hard and sinister like a gangster rap album, but it’s also sprawling and even psychedelic at times. Nothing else sounds like it, and that’s a joy to behold.

Now that the percussive elements are conspicuously absent, however, Actress requires a more thorough listen–and those that give it full attention will be rewarded with layers upon

Some reunions suck; others are a relief simply because they’re not embarrassing. Vivian Girls have defied the odds by reuniting for their best album yet.

On Ivy Tripp, Crutchfield creeps further into adulthood, expanding both her outlook and sound without losing the intimacy that endeared her to us in the first place.

Atlanta Millionaires Club is a masterpiece of claustrophobic intimacy that brings compelling immediacy to a time-tested story.

More Faithful is a genre-bending record with explosive yet concentrated sound that stays true to No Joy’s signature shoegaze rock.

After sees her returning, confidently, to her role as a modern-day pop experimentalist.

On Honey, Samia finds her power in being an open book.

Their music is suddenly sexier, no doubt a credit to Turner’s vision for AM, and continues to mature.

There's a consistent intensity and power in Oh No's production.

Slinky enough for the club, down-tempo enough for a rooftop soiree, Settle traverses boundaries and expectations.

Visions of a Life is often full, seeming to overflow. But the substance is lacking, resulting in a tiring trip through a band gamely trying not to merely cover itself.

Love Is the King is the work of a songwriter with clear eyes and a full heart. Tweedy leans on the two constants in his life, music and family, to find hope in a year where such a thing has too often been absent. In doing so, he’s left behind more than just another solid record to add to his oeuvre, but also some reassurance that maybe things will be okay, so long as we keep sight of what’s important.

Morning Phase makes for an interesting return to form.

While it's still a worthy comeback for a band way past its prime, Researching the Blues is similarly only a few solid tracks away from greatness.

Lenker doesn’t always do pretty things--she can most certainly craft a beautiful song, but she’s canny enough to know that the ways in which we subtly alter our lives to be more aesthetically appealing often obscure a far more interesting truth.

The Inheritors jumps and squeals and writhes and blossoms. It’s music that you can’t help but hear as if you were a kid again.

This is Nas' strongest album in 18 years and three months--yes, since his debut album Illmatic.

RR7349 is a more complex affair than Stein and Dixon’s work on Stranger Things and for obvious reasons, above all being the involvement of Adam Jones and Mark Donica.

These nine songs have the potent rumble of a muscle car revving its engine as a show of strength balanced with that poignant ache that country music does so well.

It’s not as fun as 2007’s Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga or 2005’s Gimme Fiction, but it’s just as punchy, while also sticking with the ambition that made Transference arguably so intriguing despite its muddled demeanor.

Even the sharpest pain, the deepest hell can be survived, and Abandon is a reminder of that.

Cold Spring lives on contrast, on stitching together mismatched parts into living mutants. It’s less whole than Crooks & Lovers, less content with the lines drawn around it.

Shamir’s music makes the listener want to wake up. Listening to it is like being shaken awake, blinds thrown open. And it’s not like learning that anything sad or dull or particular was a dream all along.

For now, as a clue, we have this album of nuances, a revue of a career, where the delight is consistently in the details, some of them random, and others masterfully intentional.

Down in the Weeds is still a Bright Eyes album, with its share of obsessiveness, narcissism, and angst. Many songs have their sights set on calamity, from climate disaster to Oberst’s failed marriage. And yet, there’s also a refreshing maturity, a perspective that seems a bit wiser, a bit less ready to revel in self-loathing. ... That culmination — from grief to love — is what truly makes these Bright Eyes songs feel new.

Wye Oak should be highly commended for expanding their already strong sound. Let's just hope they leave in a tad more of their younger selves next time around.

Fear Inoculum lives up to its daunting expectations with songs that showcase Tool in peak performance as musicians and compositional arrangers. For the diehard fan, there’s a lot to consume here. Likewise, the album offers little respite for the uninitiated; its accessibility comes in the form of its vastness and eerie psychedelia, not through hooks or common pop structures. This is deep prog-rock as only Tool can create it.

There’s a powerful cohesion to the collection that makes it feel greater than the sum of its parts, with several standout fusions of singing and instrumentation/production as only Lopatin could yield.

While gentler than its predecessor, Salutations is his bulwark against the tide, a warm record that offers calm in the cacophony, comfort in the struggle, the darkness amid the hope and the hope amid the darkness.

Platform is continuously emotive, although it never quite tops the peak of “Chorus”.

By closing the door on the philosophies and musical approaches he used to take, Tyler discovers an open window, leading him to new, peaceful strength and mastery of his craft.

Punish, Honey moves forward powered by the tension between what it keeps hidden and what little it shows.

Goon vocalizes a timelessness through the mouth of a man playing simply to start over, earnest as he’ll ever be--and getting to hear it from inside the practice room, not outside the door, makes all the difference.

R Plus Seven might be the first album to crystallize the simultaneous joy and terror inherent in a life of constant connection and constant surveillance.

Richly arranged, masterfully sequenced, and full of brooding, Push the Sky Away combines the stately beauty of The Boatman’s Call and No More Shall We Part with the intensity of Grinderman/Lazarus-era Cave while managing to sound like neither.

As always, Kinsella comes across as well-read, thoughtful, and concerned, reflecting the veteran musician’s early Cap’n Jazz days as much as his new fatherhood.

Whether or not you’re willing to put in the time, Lese Majesty holds attention as soon as opener “Dawn in Luxor” kicks in. That’s plenty to like.

Whether working in strands of hip-hop, house, funk, or whatever next might come to mind, there’s something inherently glowing about his beats. All those genres are jammed together into a single album, just like they are within Celestin; he finds joy and fun in them all.

Rather than be pulled into the darkness, Harris boldly searches for meaning in this gorgeously reproduced world.

Channeling the traditions of Southern music without getting caught up in it, Lateness of Dancers proves the genre’s vitality.

Futuristic and still visceral, even sexual, Movement's strength gleans itself from the subtleties.

he songs are tighter and leaner than on Mines ("One Horse" throws off the mean), rarely wandering, with lyrical themes prevalent rather than all-consuming.

Potential not only makes a shockingly strong case for the top tier of contemporary sample-indebted achievements (alongside pillars including Burial’s Rival Dealer EP and Jamie xx’s In Colour), but does so while insisting that the universe, much like ourselves, will never be explored in its entirety.

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.

It’s a powerful start to an album where power is par for the course.

Beneath the lyrics live a less-than-cohesive batch of songs. But when the band allows each track a little more breathing room, they show some growth and have a good time doing it.

It’s a cagey, manic record that tethers the band’s new-American muscle to Cox’s longstanding self-immolation.

Chemtrails over the Country Club is a gorgeous listen: charming, clever, and vulnerable. Del Rey is as effective as ever in painting American fantasies, evoking nostalgia for realities always out of reach.

Short Movie lacks the seamless thematic and tonal cohesion of Once I Was An Eagle, but it offers more immediate pleasures.

McCartney III will likely go down as one more intriguing artifact from this deeply strange year: an above-average quarantine album from one of the highest-profile artists yet to share their lockdown material. Left alone with his thoughts like the rest of the world, Paul McCartney turned solitude into something unifying. The end result has its flaws, but the sentiment certainly doesn’t.

Mutant unfurls like a singular body, and its nuanced empathy with the shame and horror and joy of corporeality makes it an enthralling piece to experience.

Allelujah!'s defiance of strictures of classic post-rock cinematic crescendos, or extended kraut-rock grooves, or popular musical modes and tonalities are what makes it work more as political album than it does as a traditional emotional one.

By doubling down on their brand of frenzied political aggression, they show how consistency can co-exist with growth.

Maraqopa spans genres, production techniques, and songwriting styles, all while retaining an overarching and unifying aesthetic: a cohesive haze of distance.

James Blake is an essential for anybody interested in witnessing how pop music can and will continue to change, progress, and grow into something new with time.

Though Russian Circles haven’t eclipsed their best work, Guidance is more a subtle nod to the coexistent depths and heights that have defined and run through the band’s music from the very outset.

This album is about self-realization, unbarred honesty, and the act of becoming transparent to those around you. Earl is stepping up by letting his guard down when trapped in the walls of his mind.

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.

It’s a showcase of versatility that plays to its creator’s strengths enough to feel like a definitive statement, no matter how many other projects he’s released before it.

Water Liars’ songwriting has been compared to veterans such as Dawes, Grizzly Bear, and even Fleet Foxes, but their sophomore effort, Wyoming, has more mental meandering and grit than all of the above.

At a mere 35 minutes, Kannon is a fleeting journey. But in that allotted time, Sunn do what they do best, crafting an inescapable atmosphere of flowing drone metal, and as a whole, it’s arguably their best composition to date.

In addition to their more fully formed sound, one of the more exciting things about The Internet is the music’s point of view.

While it's more "mainstream" musically, its subtlety will still melt faces.

As a whole, Lost & Found finds Jorja Smith making a name for herself with presence and poise. Throughout these 12 songs, she commands a mastery of various styles, with enough experiments to flesh out a varied, captivating album.

Another Self Portrait is highlighted by songs we’ve heard before but present here in different versions.

Price created a country-rock record for both twentysomethings and their parents to listen to together. Despite at times feeling too true to form, there are breakout moments of Price’s fervor that illuminate the album as a whole, something we’ll hopefully see more of in the future.

She is mourning and healing all at once here, and while at times it can feel a bit tedious, overall she’s delivered one solid collection of songs.

It weaves a pleasingly expanded set of instruments and styles, all under the watchful eye of producer Mike Mogis.

It’s all at once contemporary enough to thrive in a market that demands constant innovation, yet nostalgic enough to shepherd the spirit of a bygone era on which the genre is founded.

This is the first Hot Chip album that channels the appeal of their live show. There’s no need to go out. They’ll bring the club to you.

II feels like a collaboration in the purest sense.

The actual flow of the record may feel a bit all over the place, but that’s kind of the point. Rammstein thoroughly enjoy keeping their fans on their toes, if not attempting to purposefully irritate them even slightly.

The dynamic range of this record, both lyrically and musically, makes it one of his most versatile and assertive releases yet.

Ode to Joy reminds us of how good the band can be with the benefit of time and deliberation.

Even if Sore isn’t the most refined debut you’ll hear, even if it opts for feeling over detail, at least it’s got an attitude you’d be hard-pressed to argue with.

Those looking to understand the evolution of electronica across the pond will find that Barbara Barbara, we face a shining future will welcome them in nearly as much as Underworld’s debut LP.

Like the trauma that plagues him, however, the record is deflated slightly by songs one might be inclined to forget. Son Little’s latest is otherwise abundant with magic. Had he left a few of his weaker tracks in the woodshed, he might have realized the balance necessary to sustain it.

A Distant Call finds Sheer Mag growing in terms of their palette, thundering with confidence in their ability as musicians as well as their beliefs. Luckily, they don’t linger too much in the details of the overarching story line, treating the narrative as a vehicle for the songs rather than the other way around.