An expertly crafted experimental pop album that at various points suggests the work of singer Kate Bush, the effects-drenched work of the Cocteau Twins and British art-rock band Talk Talk--all musicians who mix a certain sonic delicacy with studio heavy production--No Shape exudes confidence and vulnerability in equal measures.

LaFarge backs it up with the joyful noise he and his bandmates bring to all 10 tracks

These are striking, expertly crafted songs containing left-field bridges and curious diversions, and the result is a memorable record from start to finish.

West Virginia singer, songwriter and guitarist Brad Paisley has proven himself a wizard at striking a canny balance among earnestness, whimsy, social awareness and party-hearty celebration. With Love and War he’s conjured another 16 tracks that skillfully traverse those lines.

As eager as he seems to establish a new context--to lift himself out of the realm of branded lunchboxes and touch down among the real rock artistes--Styles never overplays his hand on this winningly relaxed collection.

The fifth album by the Swedish avant-pop group since its 2007 debut merges synthetic R&B, modern textures and of-the-moment dance music. The result finds the quartet at its most magnetic and adventurous.

Her new album features 11 songs, and there’s not a dud in the bunch.

Album opener “I H8 Ppl” sets the tone: a misanthropic song about Moore’s distaste for anyone other than himself, it rolls along like an outtake from the Who’s early album “Sell Out.” There’s not a bum note on the gritty 17 songs that follow.

The world is undeniably richer for his guided tour through the trove of songs that helped lay the foundation for American music.

Lyrically, Drake embraces some of his pet topics on More Life. ... Yet Drake is also flashing signs of emotional growth--glimmers he might feel more confident displaying on a happily jumbled playlist than working into a cohesive album-length statement with its own internal logic.

“Painting a Hole” piles on more, including a stomping drum beat and a vaguely Middle Eastern synth line, while flavors of 1980s new wave crop up in “Cherry Hearts” and “Rubber Ballz,” each a vivid reflection of the deep record-nerd knowledge that Mercer played down on “Port of Morrow.”

Listen close and you can practically hear the frontman digging in his heels, pushing back on the idea of Spoon as a tidy lifestyle accessory.

His latest presents James as a futuristic R&B seducer, and if the crisp electronic production doesn’t always flatter his behind-the-beat phrasing, it’s still a kick to hear him go for it in the Prince-indebted “Last Night” and “Ladies Man.”

Alice is a studio album in the best sense. Erik Jimenez’s drumming jumps around in the stereo spectrum like he’s inside your headphones, and Ubovich’s double-tracked guitars duel for supremacy in the left and right channels. Taken at full volume, Alice rules.

For his part, Kingdom continues his exploration of experimental R&B.

Prophet mines Fuller’s energy in the pounding title track, which features the refrain, “I hear the record crackle/ The needle skips and jumps/ Bobby Fuller died for your sins.” Prophet described “Bad Year for Rock and Roll,” another album highlight, in an essay for Talkhouse as “an anthem for anyone who’s ever had a bad year and battles late-night bouts of loss of faith.”

A ten song rock record that draws on Segall’s strength as a catchy songwriter and riff manipulator.

As calculating as Sheeran can seem here, he understands there’s a fine line between universal and generic, which is why he gives his songs the idiosyncratic touches they need to stand out.

[A] wild new album. ... Complicated time signatures abound, but rather than extended jams, Thundercat keeps his songs short.

What emerges yet again is his deceptively downhome way of dropping pearls of wisdom into seemingly mundane scenarios, with plainspoken humor, with poignancy, with uncommon insight, and sometimes all three at once.

Though the songs are new, the album is hardly a departure. Each is immediately recognizable to anyone who knows the Feelies.

The Nashville-based artist loads songs with sometimes five or six guitars, and while she roots all of them in country, there are outreaches to vintage rock ’n’ roll or western soul. The precise genre sometimes remains elusive, but Lane’s boldness never wavers.

[Ryan Adams draws] from a well of sadness and confusion that seems only to have deepened by the time he gets to the album’s closer.

A vibrant batch of new songs that still rail against conformity with slashing instrumental and lyrical fury, but also find room for the occasional “la-la-la” sing-along pop hook.

The Molochs are on their own trip, one that spins old ideas with new energy.

On its ninth full-length, these Celtic-punk bruisers keep their guitars sharp and tempos revved for songs the band’s members have said were inspired in large part by the opioid crisis that’s resulted in the deaths of dozens of their friends.

On “xx” and “Coexist,” the xx was using sadness as a kind of shield; its stylish monotony kept you from regarding the players as real people open to real connection. Here, in contrast, the music’s dynamics make you feel closely involved in what they’re singing about--the highs as well as the lows. I See You presents a band willing to be seen.

The upstart singer-songwriter brings plenty of the same feisty outsider sensibility that’s made her first two albums so refreshing.