I Can Wonder is not really a success musically, but it is worth recommending at least for the ideas that work.

As a first attempt, Tremors is stirring, maybe, but not earth moving, unfortunately.

The chances Young Jesus take here in a songwriting sense are commendable, and with technical chops to boot. But overall, it's not quite the powerfully compelling, or approachable, experience that Rositter will have you believe it is.

The lyrical themes in the album about living a quiet domestic life are aptly mature, but also a tad empty and lack much insight, literal to the point that you’d assume main songwriter Ben Bridwell was peering through a window during sessions to write about anything he could find.

Charging power-pop anthems like I’m So Free and Dear Life agree with his current stature as an elder statesman who can try to keep it cool, except that when he veers into strummy gloss pop (Up All Night, Square One) it makes him sound out of touch.

The beautiful melodies and harmonies don’t actually go anywhere, they just kind of float in and out of earshot, failing to develop or do anything harmonically interesting.

I Love You, Go Easy is an uneven album, not just going from song to song, but within the songs themselves. It offers a variety of moments, some brilliant and entrancing, but not without a few distracting decisions.

At 50 minutes, there is the overriding feeling that the album outstays its welcome, with the blueprint lacking the dynamism for it to maintain its focus.

While they haven’t quite found out how to convert that into an entirely compelling experience as an album, Wash the Sins... is still very much a welcome step in the right direction.

Tracks like Silver Timothy and Silver Joy showcase what Jurado does best, crafting songs that despite being a bit gloomy are beautiful and heartfelt.

Good Sad Happy Bad ultimately comes across as frustratingly hollow, a hodgepodge of unvarnished ideas that don't amount to their true potential.

Whereas those earlier songs brought to mind a stream of sunlight trying to break through a grayed sky, now there's a battering of haphazard lightning striking against a furious ocean.

The album definitely has its moments, and the first half is very engaging, but they lose it in the long run.

Musgraves plays up her lyrical prowess to the detriment of the instrumentation, which is crisp but generic and unremarkable. Neither is there much stylistic variety in terms of vocals or even the attitude Musgraves brings to her songs.

What makes You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere frustrating is the knowledge that Grote has all the right ingredients (including Fridmann in this case), but somehow isn’t consistently stringing things together.

Lasers is an expressive album, more so than his previous records.

These songs feel more accessible and much less significant. There are a few tracks here that reanimate that sense of excitement which permeated his previous record but they are few and far between.

There's a lot to love in Dedicated, but Jepsen tries to cover too ground even if they follow similar song structures, to the point where it may bring some boredom--it's best to stream individual tracks instead of listening to the album's fifty minutes straight through.

How long this approach will remain fresh or whether Hoiberg can maintain the quality of his productions after the novelty wears off are questions for later records. For now, enjoy Wedding Bells. It was made for no other purpose.

Very, very few people have something clever to say and the musical ability to put it into song. That leaves us with ten pleasant songs about nothing much in particular, sung by vocalists of middling charisma.

If they are willing to try out different moods and feelings, while still using that winning formula of tones and instruments, they could be a great band. On Mordechai, Khruangbin gets one step closer.

The more tastefully formulated tracks just can’t offset the profusion of soppy lyricism and the tedium of weaker songs. Ultimately, Odd Blood reads as a well-informed but poorly executed homage to the ‘80s.

It’s a good comeback for De La Soul, and there’s plenty to really enjoy here, but there are too many occasions where tracks loiter for too long, not outstaying their welcome as such, just not doing a great deal with it.

Static is remarkably self-assured and meticulously produced, but such traits cannot disguise its throwback trappings. It’s hard to look away from its unfortunate backstory, and the music never really makes a point to consider it outside of its context.

Like their past work, subpar filler holds the album back. It’s worth joining them for the climb, just know that it’s going to be an uneven ascent.

It’s certainly one of the edgier twee recordings in recent years, almost an oxymoron in itself, one that falls short on its promise to channel its internal chaos with sprightly reminiscence.

Ultimately The Weight's on the Wheels works on the whole. Its finest moments are excellent examples of the wry electro-pop that TRF are certainly proficient at; at its worst, however, the album lacks any evidence of an evolution in sound or style, suffering from mediocrity rather than being distinctly poor.

Challenging and proudly disjointed, Innocence Reaches showcases a deranged songwriter whose fickle character knows no bounds.