And Agnes, the gloomy, anticlimactic closer, ejects the listener out of the edgy world that much of the album finds strength in by relying too heavily on a mainstream radio sound that feels too safe. Nonetheless, as a whole, HTBAHB is thrilling enough to achieve replay status.

At a time when many musicians seem eager to gain currency from identity politics and sociopolitical events, Mangy Love satisfies by being rooted in a nuanced observer’s perspective.

The lyrics are vivid and occasionally rote in their romanticism, but the formlessness of Endless is deceptive.

Only a handful of songs are beat-driven, but the electronic sounds are often subtle and organic. It’s rare for any one element to overtake his voice in the mix, but there are times when he fades out.

While the best moments prove the country queen is still at the top of her game, missteps like spoken word breaks add unneeded cheese, and Pure & Simple isn't all that thematically diverse.

No matter how sobering Hypercaffium Spazzinate gets, Descendents keep things light by playing these wistful, grown-ass songs like teenagers.

The distance between men and women--emotional and physical--is at the core of many of these songs, yet the album manages to be the most playful PARTYNEXTDOOR record to date.

Sonically, Nothing's Real is in line with the gliding, easy-listening 80s pop that's back en vogue thanks to Blood Orange, Haim and La Roux.

The amount of fatigue and cynicism baked into 14th album Innocence Reaches is not just a bummer; it's verging on ominous.

The acoustic Clumps strips down for a particularly moving two minutes, but for the most part, Loveless commits to the stunning sonic evolution. Embrace it.

There are rhythms and sounds that instantly come off as nostalgic, but in the best moments the beats and textures merge to form something wholly unidentifiable.

Like all Hip records, this is a snapshot of a band constantly moving away from their past and toward a strange musical unknown.

Morning Report finds Arkells lost and deep outside of their comfort zone.

It's a bold move to pick up the scraps from the floor, finish them up and declare them worth hearing, even if they don't fit tidily on any previous (or future) albums. Song by song you could be forgiven for asking "Is this the same band?"

Give A Glimpse Of What Yer Not is 45 new minutes of Mascis's solid-gold shredding, but there has never been less to hang it on. The hooks that bracket the bouts of soloing are almost instantly unmemorable and the chord structures uninspired.

It's a solid denouement to Elaenia's touring cycle, and perhaps helps us appreciate that album for its use of exactly the right tools for the job and appropriate scope for its ideas.

Seventies and 80s soul and funk influences shine through on nearly every track.

For All We Know could make a stronger statement, but that doesn’t change the fact that Nao’s voice is one of the most exciting--and fun to listen to--in modern R&B.

On Operator, MSTRKRFT seem uninterested in fitting in with current mainstream EDM trends, and that gives them the freedom to come up with something that still has just enough in common with their past to satisfy long-time fans.

At worst the album gets a bit too cutesy (lead single Frankie Sinatra), but its unrelentingly cheery harmonies and melodies are so effervescent that it practically makes the air sparkle.

Ultimately, it’s Rubinos’s unflinching lyrics that linger long after Black Terry Cat ends.

Hit Reset, the Julie Ruin’s second album, is super-spunky.

Q might appear masked on the album cover, but his explicit tales of hardship, prosperity and loss hide nothing.

The tongue-in-cheekness can create a distance that prevents the songs from hitting hard and/or stirring up your feelings. But you can still sit back and appreciate Arner's songwriting craft, knack for memorable hooks, the intelligent places his songs go to, his and Delisle's harmonic chops and the lo-fi production aesthetic that speaks to a talent for doing a lot with a little.

As the narrative grows sleepier, it feels as though she wants to see how much she can reduce her theatrical pop image into something small and seemingly impermanent.

While IV shows a progression, it lacks the progressiveness that would keep BBNG in a league with their aforementioned jazz/hip-hop predecessors and peers. However admirably, it stays in its own lane.

Each woman's distinct singing and songwriting style is front and centre, but their voices blend beautifully.

Recorded in Los Angeles during the summer of 2015, the 10-song release is noisy, messy stuff. What sets it apart from Segall's other numerous bands is Shaw's contribution: he brings a punky, tough sing-shout to the lo-fi, overdriven tunes, while Moothart and Segall (on drums here) go in for a thrashy vibe.