Overall, Fragrant World is a sexy, infectious compilation of conventional musical tropes, filtered through Yeasayer's dark kaleidoscope.

Miraculously, Moin sound like every band they have been influenced by while remaining completely inimitable.

Between 1975-84, he made Born to Run, Darkness on the Edge of Town, The River, Nebraska and Born in the U.S.A.—five outright classics. Though Western Stars doesn’t rise quite to that level—it’s an impossibly high standard—Springsteen’s latest entry in such a storied catalog more than holds its own.

Unfortunately, Nightlife is a bit short, cramming the pair's diverse and ambitious arrangements into a six-track EP when the record would perhaps deliver a more cohesive sound if given more room to grow.

WOMB is uncomfortable yet poignant as an exploration of suffering and subsequent healing in a multifaceted way. Using fuzzy ambience, pitched-up vocals, and watery synths, this album takes listeners on a disorienting, Willy Wonka-like boat ride through a bloody journey of femininity.

An album of relaxed arrangements for serenades best performed in the dawn. Once the expectations for Perkins are flattened, the idiosyncratic album becomes a welcome entry to his untraditional career.

As a whole, Holy Fire is a bold effort from Foals, but like on Total Life Forever, there are few clear standout tracks admist a lot forgettable mood-setting filler.

Subtlety is practically extinct. As a result, The Queen of Hearts demands a patient listen and a willing ear. Happily, this clear appreciation for folk nobility reaps its rewards.

What hovers over this lovely, late-night listen is the unavoidable passing of time: a nostalgic filter through which each groggy gem should be viewed.

WINK is a filling, nutritious meal: good for the soul and brimming with flavor.

Between the middle-of-the-metronome songs ("Keepsake"), mild bridges ("Handwritten") and ballads ("Mae" and "National Anthem"), the most riff-heavy, driving songs on Handwritten push the album from a good one to a great one.

Major/Minor is nothing short of very good (with emphasis on "very").

It’s a dirty-sounding album, full of scuzzy red-line guitars and overdriven vocals, but even all that speaker-busting grit doesn’t hide the alluring melodies Bains threads among the mayhem.

It’s refreshing to know there are bands like METZ putting out such quality rage like the 11 songs on this most exceptionally enthralling hello for today’s youth to thrash along to with the same sense of reckless abandon their parents were able to extol as members of the Sub Pop Singles Club.

The record is refreshingly eclectic, adding several new layers to Rae's previous blend of classic soul and modern R&B.

They've made one of the most counterintuitively accessible albums of the year.

The three years that have passed since the band's debut has left Bell Orchestre a far more confident act than the one that once served as the house band for a Montreal dance ensemble, one that simultaneously expands and tightens its focus with an album that ultimately inhabits its own place on the pop-music spectrum.

Even if the Beyoncé-Jay Z marital saga falls short of being a feminist revelation, there are plenty of instances where Jay Z pushes mainstream hip-hop narratives forward: For instance, he sweetly celebrates his mother, an out lesbian, on “Smile.” And while other rappers boast about fast money, he discusses the importance of investing in order to create lasting wealth for generations to come.

Fans of Frightened Rabbit will feel right at home with the dynamic song structures and visceral lyricism while newcomers will be able to appreciate this album as much more than a one-off solo release, but rather a refreshing take from a songwriter looking to jump out of his comfort zone.

Irreverent, funny, and ruefully sad, High and Inside will not appeal to everyone. But if the intersection of baseball and rock 'n' roll" is meaningful to you, it's a stellar reminder of why the game and the power chords still matter.

While their quiet folk songs are not a thing of the past, Good Woman benefits from the poppier textures and shiny new grooves implemented with help from Congleton.

The Mavericks understand the potency of a band that plays as a solid unit and embellishes that sound accordingly--not quite brazen, but flaring with machismo.

Like meeting an old friend after years apart, The Soft Pack is surprisingly, comfortably familiar.

An album that strikes a balance between thorny and accessible in a way that’s smart and tuneful.

For the most part, you also won’t find the simplistic catchiness of their debut, but that’s not the point of their second LP. Shame are in a different, increasingly dejected headspace, and they poured their anxieties into a more considered album. Drunk Tank Pink is more varied in pace and inspiration.

Parcels feels miraculously out-of-place, conjuring ghosts of music movements past. But, with its perpetuation of millennial angst and ability to offer release through dance, it does so in a way that feels both necessary and relevant to our present day.

Much of b’lieve remains mellower and more cognizant than Vile’s previous works, blending organic and inorganic sounds.

There’s still more than enough fuel in Encore’s tank to heartily recommend it. I’m just waiting for him to dare a leap into the unknown.