There's a fluidity and looseness to White's approach on Fear of the Dawn, giving the impression he's having a good time kicking it with his buds in his garage.

Its authenticity is what makes it so addictive, so accessible.

What she's gained in the process is more focus and confidence, and as PAINLESS proves, an intriguing foreshadow of things to come.

She’s emerged from the thickets of Laurel Hell more assured than ever before.

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.

Weaving in dustier threads to Beach House’s ever shimmery fabric proves that the cyborgian approach of mixing the organic with the mechanical is an increasingly winning formula.

The result is the most compelling case in years on the potential of the journey—the insights to be gleaned, the friendships to be strengthened, your own potential waiting to be untapped. Albums like DNWMIBIY make you believe in magic again.

It's in Spoon's ability to remain so forthright while keeping their intentions a little bit hazy where their songwriting presents itself in the best light. We've never asked them to spell it out for us, especially when they're at their most direct, and that's why they continue to keep us guessing after all these years.

If APTBS have fallen off your radar in recent years, then this is the one worth reintroducing yourself to their work.

Dissolution Wave is a phenomenal record with a broader appeal than you’d expect. If you like your shoegaze heavy or your metal atmospheric, you’ll love it.

With her lowkey yet glistening collection of songs, she jumps back into the light with clearheaded confidence and a more mature outlook.

Throughout these skeletal observations, Horn turns cryptic when she's about to give out more than she should—stressing ominous implications while using the mundane as a backdrop of her stories à la Raymond Carver, a writer she cites as an influence.

This is the most esoteric, thinking-person’s cloud rap album I’ve heard since Shabazz Palaces’ Black Up, and I mean that in the most endearing, complimentary way possible.

It may lack some of the avant-garde experimentation and concepts of her full-lengths but after all she’s been through and all that she’s given us, CAPRISONGS feels like a victory lap.

Archive Material is a strong release for fans of Fad or newcomers to Silverbacks, the type of album that feels like it’ll only get better with time.

As Marshall proves time and time again, you don’t need original compositions to express how you’re feeling; Covers exudes confidence and hints at a new-found peace. It’s a delightful listen.

Green continues to take us on a steady ride on Fragments.

This album shines when Barnett allows some light to get in. There’s no immediate pull here but it rewards a listeners' patience, especially for those who preferred her breezy EPs over the bustle of her first two albums. It may be less consistent than her previous albums, but Barnett’s newfound willingness to be vulnerable means there’s every chance it will be remembered as her most significant work to date.

Three tracks and two genre-shifts in, it’s a wonder how well the pieces fit together. Vu’s voice is a connecting thread, a honeyed contralto as distorted and disconnected as her affect, doubled onto itself and pulsing with uncertainty.

With Buds, Ovlov prove once again, and perhaps more effectively than ever, that the alchemy of passion and songcraft is undeniable no matter where your devotion resides.

While Waysides is unmatched in quality and execution, it sometimes feels a little too neat compared to the lush orchestrations of her breakthrough 2019 LP Bird Songs of a Killjoy. But there are some surprises to behold, coming in late into the album.

These remarkably self-assured ten tracks stand on their own with joyful inventiveness, as McGreevy tries to make sense of his past mistakes (Old Times) and alcohol-induced pseudo-intellectual babbling (Fit to Burst) through their joyous outbursts.

One of the most insightful pop records this year.

Some of the naggier aspects of her music remain, especially her strained, prickly inflection, still somewhat forced and certainly an acquired taste. But all told, there's no denying that Valentine is a singular statement that is profoundly genuine at every turn.

Shade, Harris’ most varied release yet, feels like the broadest and most crisp view of this vista yet, with clear, starlit openings (Unclean Mind), vast ambient gaps (Ode to the Blue), and hazy nebulas (Disordered Minds) coming together to form a stargazer’s dream.

They used to make little records like this in the anything goes early 80’s. It’s nice to see Konigsberg bringing it back.

From Old Skin to Harmonia’s Dream, I Don’t Live Here Anymore has plenty of new War on Drugs classics that will sit comfortably next to Red Eyes and Strangest Thing on a setlist.

If not as instantly infectious as Wide Awake!, Sympathy For Life imparts the group’s unwillingness to stand still.