The real pleasure of the record is hearing how Lindemann and her accompaniment shape each song around those musings.

Albeit brief, with Crystal Nuns Cathedral, Pollard and co. have struck gold once again, delivering a hi-fi record that proves itself to be just as virtuosic and inventive as any indie rock album of recent memory.

Occasionally, Nelson drops his icy façade for a moment of home-spun warmth and “sincerity”, whatever that means; for this, look no further than the wondrous acoustics of “Nightwater”, which lacks some of the sonic depth of other compositions herein but, as a work of solos, has surprising bite.

There’s nothing unexpected in the idea that she would release such a strong album right now. In another way, though, it’s just further evidence that magic always surprises.

On I’m Not Sorry, I Was Just Being Me, Whittle’s sonic forays and Merrick’s downcast yet sultry vocals make for a charismatic blend. The result is a sequence at times irksomely familiar, but it also captures a vital response to the crises and perils of present-day life.

Ocean Child may not move Yoko Ono’s songs into the mainstream, but if it only introduces a modest audience to her music, Ben Gibbard’s efforts will have been well worth it. This record gives plenty of much-needed exposure to the songs of one of our most misunderstood and unfairly ignored artists.

Whether you prefer the orchestral versions of The Garden or the pop stylings of the originals is a matter of taste. Rather than pit the renditions against one another, they should be judged on their own merits. As with any garden, the endeavor requires patience, but the rewards are delectable.

While McCaughn’s lyrics grapple with the realities of 2020 and 2021, Superchunk’s songs are upbeat and anthemic.

There is strength in numbers, and Andy Bell’s rise to the double album challenge is as strong as anything that carries the Ride name.

Sarah Shook and the Disarmers capture that nocturnal vibe where darkness illuminates the unknown more than hides what should be seen.

The amount of variety Daniel and company manage to pack into ten songs while still feeling cohesive is impressive. The lack of flashy personality makes Spoon easy to overlook, but as always, the songwriting and performance are top-notch.

The Tipping Point is a joyous reminder of their one-of-a-kind partnership, and it should be celebrated by old and new fans alike.

It’s not clear if some of the songs are confessional and concern Trent and Hearst’s marriage. There seem to be personal statements on songs like “Divide & Conquer” and “Bleed Me”, but they could be personae instead. As music, the actual truth doesn’t matter as much as the emotional weight they carry.

On Memoria, there is nothing new under the moon. The territory and sounds are familiar but the magic is in the arrangement: the orchestration of tension and the release of tension, and the tight-rope balancing act between showing and keeping it veiled.

Some songs feature snippets of spoken word dialogues and other musical accompaniment, but as a whole, the album offers an intimacy between Segarra and her audience. Segarra is the voice crooning in your ear.

Though it takes a few listens – Rashad’s vocals are intentionally deep in the mix – Electric Cowboy gradually reveals itself to be more than just a light party album.

The mishmash creates a decorative delight rather than cacophony, from the old-fashioned string arrangements on “Cosmic Sigh” to the more contemporary electric guitar licks that adorn the melody of “True Love’s Face”.

It’s a testimony to Shamir’s breathtaking talent that he can put together an album as emotionally and sonically complex and ambitious and still deliver a concise, smart, and cohesive album.

While the stand-alone OST might lack this overt humor [of the film's end credits], what it doesn’t lack is the film’s personality and intrigue. I’m left hoping there’s a continuation of The Runner’s story and its sound-world too.

Indie’s most eclectic ensemble are not slowing down so much as aging gracefully. The Dream confirms that it’s worth aging with them.

While the album is missing the manic discontent that often made its way into earlier work, the relative restfulness of the music belies Fish’s disillusion and frustration with the current state of affairs.

What elevates Antidawn to a work of genius is not just this dexterous use of materials, the intricate detail, the disciplined avoidance of obviousness. To me, this feels like an entirely new genre of field recording. Here, Bevan hasn’t merely documented uncanny fragments of nature or some grand scene; he’s come close to painting a sonic portrait of domestic life.

While Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You is indeed a lot of things, if it’s anything in particular, it’s a flex. It’s a reassertion that the band can essentially do no wrong, and even when they get close, it’s easier to interpret them toeing the borders of brilliance.

It’s a fascinating project and a rewarding listen. Longtime fans of the band should get a kick out of this record, and hopefully, Tony Rice aficionados will appreciate the new interpretations of these songs.

There are moments where it feels like Los Bitchos could go prog-rock and follow a musical idea for another ten minutes, but they always manage to pull back and stick to pop song lengths for their tunes.

Good and Green Again sounds as if it might have been released any time over the last 50 years without aging a day. Without knowledge of the tracks’ origins, it will fool listeners into assuming it’s one of the sweetest singer-songwriter efforts of at least the past half-decade.

With its multi-layered arrangements and art-rock leanings, it’s miles away from the freaky folk of Me Oh My or Cyrk. But there were times I felt adrift in abstraction and wished for a simple rhyming couplet to ground me. I can hardly fault any artist for wanting to remake and challenge themselves, however, and Cate Le Bon does that successfully with Pompeii.

The disregard for conventional structure and instrumentation, combined with the adroit, sincere lyrics, makes Ants From Up There one of the richest and most emotionally-honest albums released by a young British band for quite some time.

It’s so fun, it’s so winkingly subversive, and we for sure cannot survive another multi-year wait between releases. This album is a hell of a Fix.

More than two decades since their debut, North Mississippi Allstars – who currently include the Dickinson brothers along with bassist Jesse Williams and vocalists Lamar Williams Jr. and Sharisse Norman — are still creating memorable music but from a decidedly more mellow state of mind. That’s evident from the first notes of the opening title track from their new album Set Sail.

Mitski frequently mixes the pre-COVID love song trope about the danger of opening one’s heart to a stranger with the more contemporary fear of just going out into the world. She keeps the details vague.

Ghost Stories is a hauntingly beautiful record about life after death—the real physical one as well as the end of friendships and love.

Despite being a songwriter who has decided that his crazy dreams just came and went, Mellencamp pours himself into his music with an undiminished passion. The album is a pleasure to listen to—even if for Mellencamp what used to hurt so good now just hurts.

The constant push and pull behind Der Lange Marsch can be a frightening thing, but it doesn’t have to be that and only that. It can also be absorbed as an album of excellent impressionist achievement, worthy of the GAS name.

The guest list is pretty starry and impressive. However, Alexander’s still the headliner on the album, and he has the charisma, charm, and talent that even with the incredible star power of Kylie and Sir Elton, the best moments are his own.

Imarhan have always been strongest for their subtleties, and never more so than on the immaculately crafted tracks of Aboogi. This group amplifies their and their neighbors’ local experiences as Kel Tamasheq citizens of the world, and the music they make in doing so dazzles every time.

It is a jarring, inventive, exciting, and compelling album that deserves and rewards multiple listens. Its creativity and complexity sketch out innovative new paths for this band as they approach one decade of artistry together. If The Alien Coast is any indication, we are in for boundary-defying joy in the future.

The final results are lushly layered and sophisticated. O’Donovan is often considered a singer-songwriter and folkie, but this release finds her music hard to pigeonhole as its connections to contemporary jazz and even classical music are clearly evident.

Interestingly, the near-constant use of spoken word doesn’t ever become grating. The band have a knack for making their instrumentals minimalistic enough for the vocals to always feel natural while also unique.

Forfolks is Jeff Parker on his own, but it’s a selfless statement. Here the music, like life, thrives in collaboration, and context is everything. On Forfolks, the music is a shared consciousness that keeps expanding long after its closing notes.

Water is a dense and mutable project, a tour de force for what a thematic album can be.

The duo, who recorded during a very small window of opportunity during the pandemic shutdowns, show they are a synergistic pairing, creating music that seems more expansive than imaginable for just two musicians playing “live” in a studio without overdubs. Though the cuts are played with modern electronics, the songs are a thing apart from contemporary music, tapping ancient spirits and an emotional depth that modern pop seldom comes near.

Earthwork is a fitting representation of the music he’s created in various configurations over the years: unbounded, deeply meditative, and full of noisy swaths of inspiration.

New Decade may be the perfect distillation of this sonic alliance Phew created, existing as it does outside of any trends or genre tags. As a result, Phew continues to push forward by crawling deep inside.

The new Melvins LP – well, to be accurate, four of the Melvins’ new LPs – is again an expectation-defying wonder. It’s far from perfect and pristine, but we’ve come to love these guys without all the lines cleanly placed.

Swift lays the groundwork of her songs with good chords in Red (Taylor’s Version), but she also enhances the songs’ power with catchy lyrics and melodies (“You fooound me / You fooound me / You fooound me-e-e-e-“).

It's not an easy feat to sustain good, entertaining pop music during 15 tracks (plus one remix track) without fading into boredom. TWICE prove they’re more than capable.

While not necessarily breaking new ground, Young’s latest set resonates as fervently composed and heartfeltly topical, and the band are as committed as ever to authentic and vigorous performance.

The results are not quite like anything else to be found in Warp’s massive back catalogue, and serve as an invitation for absorption. Where her samples are from becomes less important than where, under Calix’s inspired re-imaging, they take us.

The ten tracks here vary in length here from a short two minutes (“Dinner Date”) to a rubbery 11-plus minutes (“The Barbarian”), but they all share several traits based on Allen’s steady drumbeats. He acts like a live metronome that keeps the music fluid. Okuma’s contributions (bass, guitar, percussion) provide color and variety to the musical palette.

This is not only a treasure trove for Mitchell completists, but it’s also a definitive chronicle of the ascent of the greatest artist of the singer-songwriter genre. It’s a credit to her talent that none of the tracks – even outtakes and alternate versions of memorable songs – feel superfluous. The live tunes are especially poignant and captivating because we’re privy to an artist growing into her talents and gifts.

Every track on the record sticks pretty close to the classic rock formula. But the formula is used incredibly well here. Melody is king. Hooklines are everywhere. The lyrics are smart and funny. There is nothing you can’t love.

The Legendary 1979 No Nukes Concerts does a great job of showing the power and the glory of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. The excitement is palpable even on record 40-plus years later.

Mandatory Enjoyment may not break new ground, but if someone doesn’t continue to traverse this ground, there’s a danger of it sealing over. And that would be an unconscionable loss for avant-garde and pop music alike, especially when acts such as Dummy unify the two with such adroitness.

The confidence and trust they have as a group is manifested in the songs. Flying Dream 1 also trusts its listeners, asking us to hold a quiet space for the music and let it reveal itself over time. It requires a tiny leap of faith to “step into the air” and fly.

There are no glaring missteps, and it’s generally a very good effort from a singer who could have crumbled under the pressure of heightened expectations, but instead continues on the path she forged for herself.

At its best, Time to Melt is a promising collection of seductive post-indie grooves. At its worst, it’s a goldmine of vlog-ready background music to soundtrack a West London influencer’s Bali sojourn. Either way, this is but a checkpoint in Sam Evian’s career, a coalescence of several years’ experimentation that he will undoubtedly proceed far from with his next release.

Yes, McCraven is tinkering with some beloved Blue Note classics, but the results are far more respectful than you might believe. To top it off, Deciphering the Message has enough replay value to introduce musicians like Parker and Ward to older fans and Dexter Gordon and Clifford Brown to the young and the eager.

With clever song selection and excellent execution, Raise the Roof turns the spotlight on craft. It might not quite match its predecessor, but it sounds too confident to worry about that.

It’s a work of complex, unified brilliance that will leave you chomping at the bit for a Bloodmoon: 2.

It’s not going to displace the ’80s and ’90s classics like Lincoln or Apollo 18 as a favorite, but it’s a thoroughly enjoyable record from start to finish.

Featuring only one guest verse from Bavitz’s longtime friend Homeboy Sandman, Garbology feels less like a deliberate sequel to a great Aesop Rock album like None Shall Pass and more like a next chapter. It’s a beautifully disparate slab of rap music that satisfies on the first play but reveals more of itself with each playthrough.

It’s this blurring of electro and acoustic that makes Space 1.8 such a special debut. Nala Sinephro certainly pays homage to the golden age of spiritual jazz, but her sonic range is unparalleled, and her vision is startlingly unique. Her first full-length album is one for the pantheon of cosmic jazz classics.

What results are an array of kinder, softer songs that still fit cozily into her output.

A soul-baring journey of the blues, mainly through the lens of soul and hard rock, in all its complexity, beauty, darkness, and glory. ... Gov’t Mule is at their best when they plug in, reach back to their roots, and dig deep into their soul.

After just a few plays, even the tiniest details begin to take shape for the listener. The Nearer the Fountain, More Pure the Stream Flows is a beautiful album, one worthy of the songwriter’s long and oddly-shaped legacy.

It’s a humbling listen. Describing this album and what it does is ultimately futile. You won’t get it until you go through the music yourself. From the first strike of the meditation bell to the very last crackle of firewood, you are spellbound. If you let yourself be.

The bar remains where they left it nearly 40 years ago and they have thrived within their own limits. Voyage might not surpass ABBA’s timeless collection of gold hits, but it’s certainly better than the disappointment people will purport it to be.

The songs on his latest album showcase his ability to address solemn topics, like climate change, heartbreak, and dementia, as well as lighter ones like what’s for supper and mixed-matched lovers, with the same combination of earnestness, grace, and humor.

Valentine delivers on the hype and proves—in case there was any doubt remaining—that Lush wasn’t a whip-smart fluke.

Ultimately, Ocean to Ocean is a technical triumph. Amos recorded virtually from her home studio in Cornwall, England with longtime collaborators Matt Chamberlain, Jon Evans, and John Philip Shenale. It’s also a triumph of the spirit, with Amos re-contextualizing a year of losses into a record of emotional rebirth. A relaxed vulnerability permeates the album.

Carlile has been making high-quality music for years, and In These Silent Days adds to that legacy. The songwriting is so good throughout, and Cobb and Jennings’ production is spot-on. ... Regardless of genre, though, this record deserves recognition as being one of the year’s best.

From a purely sonic perspective, Far In represents Helado Negro’s most sumptuous offering yet.

Faster showcases Fish’s fierceness even during her most vulnerable moments. Much of this is due to her celebratory mood.

He often hid beneath endless layers of reverb or incomprehensibly abstract lyrics in the past, but on these songs, his voice is front and center.

It’s tempting to say that Absence is a successful crossover project, but that would make it sound like the music is bringing disparate components together. Instead, Absence feels natural through and through.

The closer, “Brighter and Bigger”, feels similar to the opener “Somewhere” and its title could serve as a metaphor for this whole album which sees Black Marble show mastery of a known palette then paint something fresh with it.

Mercurial World is another step in the right direction, adding a cerebral heft (the kind only a full-length collection of songs tends to achieve) to the duo’s winning formula.

The interplay between Hiatt’s honest, poetic songwriting and the versatile musical styles is a primary strength of the album.

Although Boy Scouts’ slacked-out indie-folk reaches its peak on this record, where Vick will go from here is something that will require further lakeside contemplation.

His thoughtful truisms and sonorous songwriting arm them with the required soundtrack. To quote the man who started it all, “The great challenge of adulthood is holding onto your idealism after you lose your innocence.” No one has risen to this challenge with such success, humility, and brilliance as has Sam Fender.

[“Blue Light” is] a wonderfully off-kilter jaunt with a big, sing-along chorus and a general message of good over evil. It revels in the barefoot joie de vivre that Buckingham nails from time to time a would-be children’s song made for adult ears. “Blind Love”, has a more traditional mid-tempo arrangement but similarly open-hearted chorus that will keep even the most cynical listener warm at night. These songs alone are reasons to be thankful that Buckingham is still alive and ticking, a seasoned composer at the height of his talents.

It’s not a complete reinvention of the Parquet Courts sound. Still, it sounds just refined enough, just imbued with enough intriguing and unexpected influences, that it ends Sympathy for Life on a resounding high.

With It’s Not Them. It Couldn’t Be Them. It Is Them!, they deliver a stunning, large-hearted collection of power-pop and off-the-wall oddities laced with beautiful strings and horns throughout.

There’s a danger of Illuminati Hotties’ music being defined by these, her most gleeful and attention-seeking songs. Still, after her sunscreen washes off in the pool and the mist of icing sugar settles, it’s her more measured, perhaps overshadowed, tracks in which the album’s heart is found.

It’s easy to get lost in the groove of Wolf’s music; perhaps you can find yourself there, too, and see the world in new bold colors.

The Lockdown Sessions is an engaging series of snapshots of time well-spent.

The first two songs on the album, which are also the first two singles, are among the most plodding and pedestrian of the band’s career. ... Much of My Morning Jacket transcends the directionlessness of the two opening tracks and singles.

Though it’s got one clunker, The Roadside bodes well for his future.

It’s a record that combines electronic pop with R&B-influenced vocals and ambient music into an effective, coherent sound, and it’s well worth your time.

Fans will likely prefer one version of these songs to the other, but Sundowner and A Night at the Little Los Angeles work together to satisfy multiple moods and develop a complete picture of Morby’s work. And we didn’t even have to wait ten years for it.

The music rambles and rumbles like an old jalopy that always gets where it’s going with style. It’s vintage stuff that never sounds old as much as ripe and ready for cruising.

Many of Jenkins’ observations grow more excellent from further rumination and will likely stick with the listener long after the closing chirps of “The Ramble”.

Ultimately, True Love is “Recommended If You Like” quiet contemplation, night drives with a great soundtrack, and an album you’ll want to revisit time and time again.

Moor Mother is up to the task, and Black Encyclopedia of the Air – while filled to the rafters with soulful grooves – is a testament to determination in the face of oppression.

Watching them reach towards a different goal is hugely exciting, and the layered compositions, spiritual flourishes, and stellar guest features of Talk Memory point towards an exciting new future for BadBadNotGood.

Showalter’s turned a nightmare couple of years into art that not only moves through the trauma but that invites listeners to come along.

González no longer aspires to perform strident music for crowds. The songs on Local Valley show he is happy to show the way quietly.