Placing aside what amounts to unfortunate filler (the friends portions aren't as evocative), Family & Friends portrays the inevitability of growing up and keeping up with outside expectations with a deft touch.

On In a Bind, she reaches for a more spiritual musical expression—taking a page from the mesmeric rhythms of Ali Farka Touré. She finds herself at ease, picking out an arpeggiated pattern flutter over a meditative choral showpiece. Less impressive, though, is how Tamko derails into the dreamy, meandering synth jams she seemed to be at odds with from the start. ... These mood shifts show Tamko at her more inquisitive, proving how far she can expand her reach while using her own resources. And it'll be intriguing to see where her ever-changing nature takes her next.

Much of April is quite lovely. Sure, it sounds like one long song to me, but it’s a nice song, with subtle variations.

Reflections may have required a more rigorous process to complete than any other project he’s ever done, but it is also his most compact to date, which rejects the common belief that bigger always means better.

Dear Tommy may still be lost in the ether, and who knows when Jewel decides to complete it. But Closer to Grey feels like a fully-fleshed concept, and it should be considered the long-awaited follow-up to Kill for Love fans have been clamoring for for years.

Dig into it deeper and you’ll find a surprisingly rewarding account tell-all that sounds like an extraordinary premise to a film. And the score they write for themselves, as thrilling as it is, can be somewhat overwrought at times, resulting in an aural mood that could've used some dramatic nuance.

Jennings appears on the album’s penultimate track, the fine Hurts So Bad, where his harmonies pop out of an average song. It’s one of the few moments on Wyatt’s album where her usually honest writing feels more cliche than distinct. Jennings’ harmonies are fine, but it feels like the tune easily could've been cut. Still, this album’s got plenty of superb moments.

Ultimately, Allison is a pleasure to listen to even in the space where she floats right through your head.

What Terrestrials does reveal about Sunn O))) is their amiability, their unique potential to bring the concept of Sunn O))), if not its distinct sound, to an album that really isn’t quite their own.

If there's any downside, it's that their sophomore album doesn't do anything to distinguish itself from its predecessor. But you know what? When you write songs that are just as strong as your past work, evolution is less of a necessity. If it's not broken, don't fix it.

Many of the songs here are too over-burdened by the minutiae of lives half lived to be transcendent, perpetually on the verge of something greater, yet too often falling just short of it. However, as with life, there are enough small moments of insight and beauty to make it worthwhile.

An epic, widescreen journey which is busy and bonkers but constantly entertaining.

Thought it doesn't make an impression at first glance, The Chaos crosses The Futureheads' entire discography into a wholly satisfying package.

What emerges is a fascinating, infinitely bleak break-up album, but one without the scope of Disintegration or the raw, intellectual power of Blood on the Tracks.

At times, the band's genre-bending excursions sometimes result in slightly deformed arrangements that are impressive in scope but not in efficiency. But that shouldn't deter one from Deafheaven's wondrous and impressionistic creation. It is, like most of their polarizing body of work, equal parts off-putting and fiercely inclusive.

Although there's nothing spectacular or innovative here, it has to be difficult to simultaneously have a foot in a variety of styles while constructing something that's this easy to listen to.

On an album where Taylor nakedly reveals his most pressing moments of despair, it’s only in the album's handful of brighter moments that you wish for maybe just another small taste of the darkness. Taylor manages to flip his career-long look for the silver lining by acknowledging the pull of the worldly can only be put in a tidy little box for so long.

His performances are impassioned, though sometimes slightly tedious, adding strings and keys over scruffy folk-rock. Ounsworth even alludes to his past brush of fame on CYHSY, 2005, though what we really get are broad, everyday depictions of the mundane.

With a steadfast attention to his orchestration, it helps to illuminate his musical exploration of the West.

Compared to this summer's pop offerings—think of the similarly themed efforts by Billie Eilish and Lorde, both of which deal with the trappings of fame with serenity and blissful detachment, respectively—If I Can't Get Love, I Want Power is provocative, and even ugly, in its most vulnerable moments. Self-indulgent, sure, but its emotional chaos feels earned.

True, most of the themes on 1000 Forms of Fear are pretty generic, but Sia’s lyrics are bold and visceral, and the production is dynamic without being gimmicky.

Goat Girl achieves a new clarity to their dense lyrical content when their murky antics turn more accessible.

YACHT’s music is as simple and enjoyable as their philosophy. You won’t end up ruminating on it all night, but you are very likely to enjoy it while it’s on.

It'd be a stretch to tag them as soul revivalists, but there's no denying these combustible pop tunes are still 26 of the most promising minutes you'll hear all year.

The tracks highlighting Vik are showstoppers as usual, and his dominate wordplay only reiterates why others should drop the mic when any of DOOM’s personas enter the booth.

It's not up there with their very best, but it's actually not that far off.

Over the past few years, it may have seemed like Bridgers was a team player, but on Punisher, she reannounces herself as a solo songwriter reaching her peak.

A Classic Education have created a set that demonstrates proficiency while leaning heavily on an established style.