Jepsen’s wide range of diverse influences is still on display, but she’s the most mature and refined she has ever sounded.

First Aid Kit are no longer a one-trick pony—that horse being Americana. There are still tracks that would be right at home on an Everly Brothers record, but unlike the sentiments expressed by their first-person narrators, these 11 songs show the band has taken a step forward.

On Only the Strong Survive, Springsteen places his voice front and center, and his love for this timeless and joyous music is jubilant and infectious.

It is very good. ... There are no major missteps within the album, although not everything works as well as the album’s brightest spots.

The indefatigable tracks are softened by more ruminative numbers, affording respite and retrospection amid the jungle-thick maze of emotion and mood. Ultra Truth is both a danceable and listening collection that packs a corporeal punch and a spiritual cleanse.

As far as archival releases go, Scalping the Guru is a treat. It sure beats the pants off of Our Gaze, when Robert Pollard smashed together two of his recent solo albums but left much of the material behind to rot. Scalping the Guru is fun, rough, and artful.

Crutchfield and Williamson pack a lot in a short time through their inventive songwriting and expressive voices. The two singer-songwriters often stun the listener with their poetic directness.

With 12 songs in a brisk 37 minutes, nothing overstays its welcome, and there are enough changes of pace to keep listeners from starting to tune out. It’s impressive that the quartet is still making music this good as they enter their fourth decade of existence.

A short-but-sweet footnote in a mind-blowing campaign to remind people that a live Can performance must have been something to behold.

While Crybaby is its own project and holds its own ground in their discography, remnants of previous eras of the duo are heard throughout, contributing to its nostalgic quality for longtime listeners.

The Mars Volta becomes more rewarding with repetition. Despite the outwardly more accessible style, the group has stuffed the record full of interesting musical choices.

Suede have wisely sidestepped any 21st-century tropes which would have diluted their approach. They stick to their specialties here. ... One of the best records of their career.

The work here is as intricate as it is impassioned, with neither form nor feeling sacrificed as Ejstes builds a multidimensional musical world. Whether or not you’re familiar with Dungen’s previous work, this is a phenomenal display of their collective skill and penchant for a rich and genre-bending atmosphere.

Sheff’s distinct voice gives any of his projects a certain feel, but this record, created through much collaboration, sounds relaxed even if it mostly sticks to precise recording.

¡Ay! tugs the music and language of Colombia out of its natural space, allowing Dalt to beckon traditions across oceans and, along the way, provide established melodies and rhythms new spaces to inhabit.

Concepts like “consistency” and “quality” are relative, but a new album from Robyn Hitchcock is always good for a grand reminder of what is truly “great”, and Shufflemania! is no exception.

Under the Midnight Sun sits somewhere below their most essential albums while looking down on their more awkward moments.

Stumpwork isn’t easily decoded on the first listen. John Parish’s production work needs some getting used to, particularly in how he treats Shaw’s vocals with a certain tinny harshness even as he pushes them to the front of the mix. Even outside of that, Dry Cleaning are still playing 1980s-era indie and languors in obtuse sprechgesang. But also like New Long Leg, Stumpwork is worthy of inhabiting completely and capable of rewarding multiple listens.

Despite a more liberal use of string sections this time out, Funny sounds like another album made by the 1975.

Sparke clearly had a dedicated goal with this record: capture the confusing and fluctuating feelings inside of her and linger in them without analysis or explanation. Hysteria’s consistent sound arises organically out of that project, and your appreciation for it is contingent on your willingness to engage with that project in the first place.

Dirt Femme is one of Tove Lo’s strongest collection of songs yet, and the acoustic fingerpicking collaboration “Cute & Cruel” with First Aid Kit shows the different directions Lo can take her sound. Unfortunately, tracks like the by-the-numbers ballad “I’m to Blame” and the less-insightful-than-it-thinks dance cut “Attention Whore” get lumped in on the album’s back half, as they somewhat pull down the otherwise stellar material presented.

The more-is-more nature of Typical Music may be a mixed blessing, but Burgess’ and the album’s biggest gift is a generosity of spirit.

Across these eight tracks, Yeah Yeah Yeahs mix big moments and simple softness, playing with tone and dynamics to develop tension, release, and steady propulsion. It’s kinetic energy that might not have been evident during that decade the band members focused on other projects, but it’s one that shows no sign of friction.

Because the formula is so well-tested, Empire Central is at its most satisfying when avoiding Snarky Puppy’s full-group sound.

For all of Blount’s intelligence on the record, it might be this heart that comes through strongest.

The Bad Plus makes a convincing case for the new lineup and puts the quartet’s vitality on full display, shrugging away any notions that the Bad Plus are past their prime. Whether you view this as a new group or not, the results are equally as compelling. They didn’t really need it to, but the Bad Plus got themselves a new lease.

While its taunt, clipped patterns, and track brevity likely make it the most accessible record he’s made, it shows an artist capable of profound yet unhurried growth.

While the sense of concerted effort from Pixies rarely lets up, few of these songs make a lasting impression.

Was this brand of metal ever designed to be this safe—especially in a climate where the music’s apocalyptic scenarios have come to life? For better or worse, The Sick, the Dying… and the Dead! reveals its charms more the more you ignore that question.

I Love You Jennifer B is provocative and ambitious, testing attention while operating on a fine line between listenability and overkill. The way Jockstrap play with expectations keeps listeners on their toes. Trying to anticipate the next 180-degree turn or sudden zero to a hundred acceleration makes them an exciting listen.

It’s not too late to learn how to stretch your attention span around these three hours of music because there are moments that absolutely soar. Patience isn’t a virtue here; it’s a requirement.

The drifting nature of Weather Alive‘s songs may not be as immediately satisfying as the bright-eyed folk-pop she flirted with in her earlier years. Still, this album unabashedly feels like the record she needed to make now, and we all feel more Alive because of it.

Joe Strummer 002: The Mescaleros Years gets to the heart of this matter comprehensively, dishing up all three albums and a modest peek behind the curtain. The packaging is lovely, and the Mescaleros never made a bad album.

On As Above, So Below, just as on The Return, she makes music with incredible clarity of purpose and affirms a sense of interconnected self and heritage that makes her writing, arranging, sampling, and guest list all the more compelling. Sampa is soaring, and she’s not afraid to let everyone know.

While Combs does not offer us mantras to soothe our souls, the songs function similarly to the chants by keeping the lessons simple and largely without distracting ornamentation.

Asphalt Meadows is neither a nostalgic rehash of earlier heights nor a workmanlike product lacking innovation or novelty. It is instead a statement that this band can both occupy space in the indie rock pantheon while at the same time producing new work deserving of consideration with some of their finest early work.

Sawayama’s vocal performances are mechanically flawless, a testament to her talent, though they fail to evoke the sublime responses that Sawayama can evoke. Overall, the sequence suffers from a lack of risk and is self-consciously conservative in terms of its execution—a bewildering anticlimax.

Someday Is Today is a profound, powerful, and emotional experience. Depending on which mood you find yourself in–or preparedness–you may end up sinking deeper into feelings of hopelessness and despair.

With NOT TiGHT, however, DOMi & JD BECK take their impromptu jam sessions and make a greater leap toward notoriety with support from some of the hottest musicians on today’s scene. The duo has achieved high-flying musicianship status at a break-knit speed, similar to the tempos they traverse.

When the Wind Forgets Your Name feels like Martsch is more self-assured than ever. Like, he finally realized his position and learned how to play to his strengths as a songwriter. These strengths–especially a confident delivery–have been refined by age and experience, helping to produce the same version of Built to Spill, albeit enhanced, that can still contend with the best albums in their discography.

By sticking to his stock-in-trade, Vade Mecum will take its place as another bountiful release alongside Glenn Jones’ other records.

Personal examinations are nothing new to Flegel, but the lyrics become more interesting when he shifts to broader, bitter social criticisms.

How Do You Burn? may take a few spins before you can differentiate it from other recent Dulli releases, but spooky treasures lie beneath when you take the trouble.

It sways and bops somewhere in the middle, resulting in a richly conceptualized LP that delivers on Sim’s enterprise into soulful pop even while it comes short of solidifying an aesthetic that suitably breaks him apart from the pack.

With their third LP, Black Midi continue to put out adventurous and challenging music that keeps listeners on the tips of their toes.

The instrumentation and arrangements can be primal, martial, or formal then mixed with more contemporary electronic effects. The songs share heavy percussive beats that humanize the machine-link melodies.

He’s found his groove, and it’s warm and comforting and beautifully honed.

A warm and inviting listen, the album proves to be one satisfying listen and a memorable last hurray for the waning days of summer.

Fans of classic electric guitar-driven rock will nod knowingly when King adds a lick straight out of Iron Butterfly, the Steve Miller Band, or Jimi Hendrix. He’s able to play both the song and the instrumental commentary at the same time.

While everything here is skillfully executed and grand, there’s a sneaking sense the compositions have little to say beyond the reimagining of vocal traditions and the benefits of pushing boundaries. Nevertheless, Smith has created a mirror of our tumultuous modern world, one in which we can see our faults, fickleness, and boundless possibilities.

It’s a moving and bracing exercise in creativity and is ultimately very rewarding – if not always easy – listening experience.

Obviously, Freewave Lucifer f<ck f^ck f>ck is not the sort of record that is going to appeal to a wide audience. Even among Of Montreal fans, it’s likely listeners who enjoyed the esoteric experimentation of albums like Paralytic Stalks and White Is Relic/Irrealis Mood will be fully into this one.

If anything, Holy Fvck proves that maybe it was Lovato’s pop albums that were the fluff, and this is the substance they’ve been looking for.

Bigger. Messier. is less a remix album and more a shockingly impetuous experiment that leaves its source material violently splayed across the landscape. If you found Big Mess to be overwhelming, then Bigger. Messier. will be no fun for you at all. By the same token, if Big Mess fascinates you, this double album will be all the more engaging.

Blondie’s Against the Odds is a story of many intersections: art and commerce, punk and pop, disco and rock, femininity and masculinity, and underground with the mainstream. Against the Odds tells that story beautifully.

It requires effort and attention on the part of the listener. Bleed Out may not be for everyone. But everyone should wrestle with it for a while. In a time where easy answers seem a cruel joke, deconstructing the myth of the conquering hero may be just the step we need to forge a new path.

Although 2000 can’t compete with Kendrick Lamar‘s To Pimp a Butterfly, or even Joey’s own AMERICAN BADA$$, it does highlight a major issue in contemporary American societies: gun violence. ... If anything, the album proves his chops were never rusty.

Throughout No Rules Sandy, Meath’s lyricism remains observed and witty, with double entendres and eccentric phrasing abound.

Some bands adjust their sound for the better, while others tinker with a successful formula merely for change’s sake. Goon unquestionably falls in the former category, making Hour of Green Evening an unanticipated and compelling listen.

It’s a subtle homage to Wilson’s genius as a songwriter and arranger with a delicate touch and sense of restraint. These are songs meant to be played in one’s room with the door shut and maybe even the lights off.

They excite, inspire, and energize, but also soothe, amuse, and comfort on this incredibly varied album, leaving practically no time to get bored. So whether Hot Chip continue in this finely-crafted-pop mode or not, it was definitely worth investing in that new recording studio.

This is beautiful music, as obvious an instant classic as you can get in the so-called “desert blues” category.

Through her vulnerability and strength, she offers her listeners a path to realistically embrace the cycle of ache and joy in relationships, all within the confines of what might be one of the finer albums to come out of Nashville this year.

Renaissance succeeds as a post-Covid soiree and massive PR campaign, though one can’t help but note that the album occasionally sports more style than substance.

Lynn’s ability to balance some of her most personal lyrical matter, such as the reflections on motherhood in “What Is This Body?” and “You Are Not on Your Own”, with this newfound pop ebullience, comes through resoundingly throughout the whole of Something More Than Love.

The juxtaposition of breezy bangers with more challenging musical ideas makes XI: Bleed Here Now a recommendable fare for both the hard-to-impress music snoot and the more open-minded rocker, though both are likely to agree that sometimes less is more.

If Heard It in a Past Life was the culmination of the Maggie Rogers who broke through from indie folk artist to viral sensation; Surrender sounds more secure and less eager to prove itself.

Unless one is already into jazz improv, jam-rock, or ambient electronics, the record may be a tough sell. For those predisposed to any or all of those styles, though, this album has a lot to like. Navalny and Branch are creative enough that it feels like they’re perpetually on the brink of making something really musically engaging, and Parker’s expertise finds a way to bring out those moments.

The arrangements find a balance they haven’t always found. It may not always click—“Clean Clothes” and “Did It Really Exist?” in particular don’t ever really take off. But mostly it does

Ultimately, My Other People feels like the work of a band in progress that hasn’t entirely figured out how they operate as an ensemble.

Their ability to drop a pop banger has been proven already – they can do it – but they just find reimagining what Cybotron would sound like as a future-punk band, and that exploration in sound proves to be a gripping listen here.

While Entering Heaven Alive lacks the thematic and musical consistency of Fear of the Dawn, it is no less striking with the depth of its musical diversity.

The result is a mish-mash of commercially viable tracks and more whimsical excursions that her fans will cherish but might leave others feeling warm, then cold.

Special is such a disappointment because you can hear the better album she’s capable of – but she insists on digging her heels in to crank out one-size-fits-all empowerment jams that can’t be resonating with anyone beyond someone just getting back to the elliptical for the first time in a year.

In the context of their discography, this colorful album is a strong addition to the enigma of Guided by Voices. It even manages to produce songs (“Boomerang”, “Flock”) that will likely one day be considered essential. Outside of this context, Tremblers and Goggles by Rank is a smashing and replayable album that only sometimes forgets that people are listening.

The 14 cuts on Found Light are more inquisitive and exploratory (and even experimental) than before.

The bad news is that The Other Side of Make-Believe suffers from a gaggle of forgettable material. The good news is that the record shows us all that Interpol are willing to try a few new tricks as they age.

It’s perhaps the first time Bird has made his songs so easily accessible to his audience.

It’s mainly miss. The limp steel guitar backing “Cold in the Summer” is too low-key to maintain any interest whatsoever; same with the forgettable strummed final track “Wind in My Blood”.

On MUNA, the group has crafted a collection boldly exploring how being queer is composed of joys and traumas, and there’s no shame in messily embracing both. As they put it on their first album, we are loudspeakers.

His most experimental, wandering, and gorgeously unkempt album to date.

Putting her body and feelings out in the open makes them real, especially when portrayed so artfully as in songs such as “Patron Saint of the Dollar Store” and “Heart Swell”.

Absent an infectious melody and accompaniment that establishes rhythmic and/or ambient contrast, her voice tends to grow monotonous and disengaging. But when the aesthetic balances are in place, as they are for much of Sometimes, Forever, then Allison glows like a moon reflecting a dying sun, one of the substantial artists of her generation.

Yet by the end of Closure/Continuation, the main feeling that’s left behind is a sense of limbo. Wilson, Harrison, and Barbieri remain top-notch musicians, comfortable in songs that require technical proficiencies well above the average rock or pop musician. At its best, the album captures and rejuvenates the cerebral and melancholic mood that is Porcupine Tree’s signature. But in the end, the uncertainty innate to a title like Closure/Continuation hangs over the proceedings.

Farm to Table is a record to dwell within, not one to merely be impressed by, making it a fitting and remarkable sophomore effort for an artist whose debut turned so many heads.

Sometimes their vocal melodies aren’t particularly strong. Yet those songs seem to be written to have the vocals at their center. Instead, they end up as tracks with really solid rhythmic backing, interesting guitar playing, and a sort of void where the song’s primary focus should be. The good moments here are worth lauding, but the trio could use a few more of them.

There are at least a handful of worthwhile inclusions here, and Shearwater’s overarching purpose is admirable. Regrettably, though, good intentions don’t necessarily equate to good execution. For the most part, The Great Awakening is a plodding creation whose occasionally fascinating nuances and continually astute insights are marred by persistent musical tedium and hollowness.

When musicians play with each other for years, they build an intuitive understanding of their creative sensibilities. It’s clear that they love making music with each other, and their mutual passion is emblazoned in this deeply compelling batch of heavy rock songs.

Knowing about Matmos’ back catalogue or Schaeffer (or electro-acoustic music in general) isn’t a requirement for getting with Regards Ukłony dla Bogusław Schaeffer; it’s an entertainingly strange, multi-layered immersion on its own.

The problem with Headful of Sugar isn’t that it’s bad. It’s that if a band is going to tell people one more time that, “Nothing in this life is really free”, they’d better have a profound, distinctive way of doing it, and Headful of Sugar doesn’t quite get there.

The contents of Welcome 2 Club XIII testify that there are plenty of good miles left in the tank.

One cannot listen to the Cactus Blossoms without purposely being reminded of the Everly Brothers. If the Minnesota band continues to produce good music, the opposite may be true down the line.

While the set’s melodies are not pronouncedly hook-driven, they are indeed entrancing due primarily to Olsen’s consistently sensual tone and precise phrasing.

They are simply terrific to listen to and always seems to be what they are – without frills or pretension. The Last Thing Left, from start to finish, is sure to be remembered as one of Say Sue Me’s very finest.

By weaving in and out of broader and more intimate concerns, Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever create an album with a wide scope that ties together. The rooms might be endless, but they make sense as a single structure.

C’mon You Know might be his best solo album so far. Even if his singing voice or public persona turns you off, there’s substance here. Just don’t expect to be taken on some mystery tour. You know, the magical kind.

Although Harry’s House is mostly composed of downtempo but somehow not depressing beats, this is where the record finds its hook. Despite all of us and the world constantly changing, all we have is whatever and wherever we call home. With this record, Styles is inviting us into his.

MOTOMAMI is experimental in a way that does not sacrifice function over form. These songs have a pop purpose: they are fragmented, but they are laid in catchy hooks and enthralling beats. MOTOMAMI doesn’t fail to entertain.