Foxing have long been one of our most ambitious bands, but Draw Down the Moon confirms they’ll keep going for broke for the foreseeable future.

It's a monumental return-pure, unfiltered American rock 'n' roll--and has to be considered one of the party albums of the year.

The fact the “Born Under Punches”-esque freakout outro doesn’t rob the earlier minutes of their somber beauty is testament to the success of this particular sonic experiment. For that matter, it’s the main proof this new sound of theirs was not just a good move but a great one.

Where Bright Eyes lyrics lumber, The Mynabirds are aflight.

Throughout Salvador, Navarrete uses the lexicon of modern club music and intimate, reflexive lyrics to create an astonishingly confessional art-pop album. There’s a self-awareness to the themes that bind Salvador which prevent it from straying into braggadocious territory.

It’s a taut, focused collection that reins in the sprawl of the group’s 2019 release I Am Easy to Find and re-centers the band on their most emotionally complete effort since Boxer.

Instead of reintroducing the genre’s founding dub steps and club sensibilities, contributions from Massive Attack’s musical descendants (Blur/Gorillaz mastermind Damon Albarn, Portishead’s Adrian Utley) lend quieter atmospherics that amplify the emotion of the band’s mainstay whispers.

What is most inspiring about Cost of Living is, whether they are addressing workers’ rights, saving net neutrality, the white-cis-het hegemony or police brutality, among countless other topics to manage to fit into a 35-minute album, Downtown Boys stay angry, but are never pessimistic.

The natural, gloss-free sound clears the way for Willie's voice, as cozy as an old pair of slippers; the 77-year-old singer's persona is inseparable from any song he sings, even when he's never sung it before and even when it's cruise-ship reggae.

The baton has been passed to these fine young women, and they are running far and away beyond their forebears.

Because even if Acoustic at the Ryman doesn’t flow like one natural performance, the cumulative effect of the record presents Band of Horses as a talented group of musicians who are wholly capable of playing live without sonic camouflage or superfluousness.

There are no brakes on Let Me Do One More—rather, it is more like a sprightly rollercoaster, with mellow gaps in between punchy electronic tracks creating arcs bound to give out an exhilarating sort of whiplash.

The far-flung vocalists demonstrate how vast his songwriting and cultural influence is, comfortably enfolding each without losing the essence of his intent.

The album is at its sweetest with love-laced tracks like 'Water Spider' and 'Summer Morning Rain,' but it truly shines when it tackles deeper issues.

Mines is Menomena at its best-mentally relentless and physically ruthless.

Blessed with great songs, wonderful arrangements and vocal performances that seriously raise the bar in our expectations of what she's capable of, it is a record that shows real artistic growth in every area and is destined to become a classic that rivals Trailer Park and Central Reservation.

This doesn’t negate the power of Sometimes, Forever, a record that will be noted for its big swings, but rather reinforces it. When a band is able to thrive both inside and outside their comfort zone, it is built to last. The release of Sometimes, Forever is just another indication that Soccer Mommy will persevere in the face of an industry that is always changing.

It would almost be safe to say The Flaming Lips have hit closer to the classic record here than on the Dark Side cover album they released a few years ago.

The result is not only her most honest and personal album to date but also her most affecting.

Smarter pop? Seductive commentary? REALLY? Yes.

Every Open Eye is another album you can throw on at a party to get everyone dancing just as easily as you could pensively listen to it alone in your bedroom. They translate so well because they know what they want to say, and one can only hope they keep saying it for some time.

There’s a fine line between irony and referential lightheartedness. We all need a vehicle to convey emotions, after all, and Chromeo’s is more stylish than most.

Bite Down is packed wall to wall with tunes that are unsettled but unhurried, generous with melody, wandering but never lost, and reliably steady despite the never-ending twists and turns of an earthly existence. But above all, they are beautiful, broken and built around the kind of raw emotional uncertainty that will resonate with anyone who has ever lived, loved and/or lost.

Mumford and Son resisted the temptation to upend their sound for more commercial ends, with an album of carefully chosen material and plumbing even deeper declinations for lyrical insight. It’s a strategy that pays off; along with increasing anticipation, it results in a better set of songs overall.

It's a turmoil of glorious noise.

As a whole, A Sailor’s Guide to Earth is simultaneously eclectic and of a piece: It’s big and bold and sometimes messy, but never unfocused.

This is still the Frightened Rabbit we all know and love, as gloomy as we last heard from them.

The eight-song release is a runaway train, screaming down the tracks but controlled enough that it never runs off the rails.