While Rossen’s debut may not always soothe its listeners, as the 2012 release Silent Hour/Golden Mile EP might have done, You Belong There is a solo record worthy of much praise and admiration.

She spends this excellent album distorting and blowing out those folk textures, sometimes with control of aural space, sometimes with thick and tangles musical arrangements. The breadth of sounds here now matches the hairpin turns her voice can take, and these songs take full advantage of these new musical roads.

Cardi B has proved herself to be someone not to mess with in the rap game, and it's exciting to see her at the top of her game on Invasion of Privacy.

An artist of ample prowess, Salim Nourallah can take pride in yet another in a line of outstanding efforts.

There is a distinct symmetry to the album with the effectiveness of the more urgent first half benefitting from the more ambient, immersive second, on an album that begs to be heard as a unified whole.

Though the sounds can be thin, the atmosphere is thick and evocative.

Alvin sounds like he is having fun, even when he's singing a sad song. He's a true troubadour, in the best sense of the word.

Anima seems by some distance to be Yorke's strongest solo work, and its musical content is oddly and paradoxically invigorating, in contrast to its persistently anomic lyrics. This dynamic is a key component of what makes the album succeed.

Sparkle Hard slips out of twisting plot traps as nonchalantly as it slides around rigid logic. The characteristics that have kept his music with the Jicks since the early 2000s one of indie rock's more subtle but steady pleasures haven't faded in the least, and Sparkle Hard finds them at their brightest concentration.

Their songs are evocative in ways music seldom is; you can feel the heat in their voices, picture the haze coming off the desert horizon, hear the dust getting into their microphones, their amps, under the strings of their guitar, slowly working its way into the sound itself.

While the sound of this record is different from previous releases, it is only ever-so-subtly-so—and it just might be better.

The Breeders have released the rock album of the year so far.

The songs are a dialogue of fuzz bass and searching guitar notes with the contours barely sketched in by the drums. Minimalism packs a mean punch; True Widow gets you in the gut.

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.

Despite these intriguing connections between words, music, and the band’s history, Low’s commitment to an ebb-and-flow sound is both HEY WHAT‘s primary signature and chief shortcoming.

Rips actually ends up adding to her reputation precisely because she performs like she’s got nothing left to prove or lose with it.

The dance-inspired elements he throws in on Listening to Pictures don't suddenly mean his work's going to be on sale in the "electronic" racks of record stores. It's just another ingredient in a slow-simmering pot.

Carry Fire is an excellent example of a legendary rock star who no longer needs to prove anything yet still refuses to phone it in.

The answer is there is no answer until perhaps it is too late. He’s not the first person to come to that conclusion. The value of Simon’s record lies in its pondering of life’s mysteries.

The record is more acoustic than any of Rogers’ previous work in a way that feels welcome and refreshing rather than an erasure of her first two albums as inauthentic. Rogers’ vocal and performance abilities may recall musicians of decades past, but she is still very much a product of her time.

Granted, the Lips can still be innovative, but for perhaps the first time in their storied career, their creativity feels familiar and predictable.

For the other ten of the dozen tracks, Chambers takes on a more adult persona and sings with a deeper voice about heavier subjects, even when her lyrics get cheeky.

We all need to feel something to be inspired, to create, and to continue putting one foot in front of the other. With his fourth studio album, Adam Lambert is finally taking a step in the right direction.

It’s fun as well as sentimental. And that voice, now exposed a bit by age but strangely strong and capable of holding the spotlight: it is telling stories that make you feel things. Therefore, let’s hope for more after all.

These cuts may be little more than glorified home recordings, but they are more than charming.

Ghosts of the Great Highway represents an expansive, continent-traversing narrative that evokes the literary style of John Steinbeck and the vivid imagery of everyday American life captured in the watercolors of Edward Hopper.

Without making any major alterations to their blueprint for music making, Super Furry Animals have nonetheless found a fresh and vibrant new corner of their odd little niche.

Imagin[e] the Beach Boys getting strung out in a field on cider midmorning in some alternative universe Texas, surrounded by retro-sounding DIY synths, a raggedy brass section, and a hippy cello player.

From the Ages is not just the latest album from this long running band. It’s their best.

If you’re a lapsed Dickhead, Sweet Warrior would make for a great reintroduction to Richard Thompson. Likewise, should you require only one RT album per decade, this disc may well stand as his best of the 2000s.

There are, however, occasional stumbles that suggest that some lessons cannot be learned quickly, and that melody is an essential component of their sound that needs more attention. For now, though, this is much better.

With his latest jewel, Staples mines an artistic, existential, and notably fertile limbo.

By tweaking the sound of his previous record, adding wisely chosen collaborators, and not trying to totally revolutionize what was already working quite well, Snaith has created one of the most enjoyable, crowd pleasing records of the year.

A satisfying diversion in the flow of two styles of classic music previously at odds with one another.

While worthy of dissertations in multiple academic disciplines, one need not require a degree to appreciate Dream All Over. The peerless Gun Outfit maps out its own musical cartography.

As a collection of rock songs, it is deadly on the mark, a bulls-eye, a shot of sunshine and bourbon to your gut. It takes its place as the year’s most glowing record of despair, and joy? And as Juliana Hatfield’s best album.

The arrangements are deceptively simple and allow McKenna lots of open space to express herself. Cobb understands the sophisticated musical rhetoric of appearing effortless. McKenna tosses off the lyrics as if she's just singing to a friend. She impresses by not trying to impress.

Set against a rich, ethereal backdrop, it’s a mature, moody debut, the type that makes one hope Stith will choose to linger on the music scene for some time to come.

Brown and Amos have intelligence to burn. Everyone’s Crushed soundtracks our present frenzied moment in new ways, portending a mutual future neither bright nor grim but, like this band, is inescapably singular.

Even without knowing anything about Basinski himself or the climate in which he’s created his work, the listener herself would still be able to create their own world around it, such is the power of his music.

Brilliant, shimmering and wonderfully composed, Winter Hymn Country Hymn Secret Hymn is one of the best albums of year, and the best album GY!BE have never released.

When Yoko isn't channeling Wilco, it calls to mind another giant on the American indie rock scene: Spoon.

There’s several superlatives that could embellish Get Off on the Pain: contender for year’s end best of list, insightful and rare look into a singer’s psyche, a collection of top-grade Country music or soulful purging. All of them apply, and then some.

Even the best pop of Lerche’s career pre-Please rarely strayed outside of the lines; with Please and now Pleasure, he prefers the vibrant color splatter of a Pollack. There’s no doubt that Pleasure is a bit of a mess, but it’s the kind of mess worth getting lost in.

The Shepherd’s Dog is the most successful merger yet of Beam’s meticulously constructed songs with adventurous arrangements that move further and enthusiastically away from the band’s pious beginnings.

She is constantly connected, consciously or not, with more rooted folk forms, from Ghanaian Ewe drumming and dance to Haitian funereal brass bands. Her results sound like none of that, but somewhere, underneath the layers of beats and snippets of melody, she tosses off like corn husks, dwells fossils, and bones with stories to tell us.

Take Me Apart is genuinely an album without low points, striking a balance between the allure of mainstream pop and the inventiveness of its fringes.

<A HREF="http://www.popmatters.com/music/reviews/d/deathcabforcutie-transatlanticism.shtml" TARGET="_blank">This album is a beautiful trek through time that pays tribute to the human condition with simple melodies and honest storytelling, a nearly perfect pop record.</A> [Review 1, Score: 100] <A HREF="http://www.popmatters.com/music/reviews/d/deathcabforcutie-transatlanticism2.shtml" TARGET="_blank">For old-school Death Cab supporters, it's gut-check time: Did you like these guys for their "rock" or their "indie"? While the secret is out, the music is still too emotionally honest and infectiously witty to hold at a distance.</A> [Review 2, Score: 80]

While it's probably his most willfully experimental album to date, his soft, distinctive vocals flow through every track, binding the whole thing together.

By continuing to do what he does best, Dwight Yoakam, with Second Hand Heart, adds yet another excellent album to his nearly flawless catalog.

Electric finds a reenergised Pet Shop Boys’ still masterful in the dark art of crafting ‘smart-bomb’ dancefloor bangers.

Aurora does not disappoint; it continues Ben Frost’s resume as one of the most fascinating experimental musicians in the world.

Whether Raw Silk Uncut Wood is the precursor to a forthcoming ambient full-length or just another stint of experimentation, Laurel Halo continues to break expectations in the most bemusing way. The mini-album is a beautiful practice of minimalism that also maintains her intricate perspective.

The boygenius EP marks a stunning release from three singular artists. Hearing them integrate their particular gifts would be worth a listen alone, but the performances are so remarkable that the disc's background becomes trivial.

For those who have been gripped or at least mildly interested by the band’s progression over its first two LPs will find Modern Vampires of the City to be an expansive, illustrious work that--while clearly a 21st century recording--is a reminder of the gift musicians have to leave the door in one decade and come back in another.

Eternal Sunshine marries the dueling methods of processing pain presented on Sweetener and Thank U, Next, weaving heartbreak throughout an album that never lets the tears spill as freely as they did on “Ghostin”, a ballad from Thank U, Next. .... Eternal Sunshine strikes new ground by including confessional hits that don’t appear to have a goal beyond the act of confession.

While all of this is promising, and illustrates that Clap Your Hands Say Yeah likely has a very bright career ahead of them, they're only just getting started.

We Love Life is an album that trades the group's tongue-in-cheek gimmicks and satirical savvy for a mode of pensive moderation and subtle telling.

Throughout Send, Wire strike the right compromise, pushing their songs to brink of chaos without ever allowing them to disintegrate.

While the first album broods, the 11 songs on this disc are mostly smooth and flowing.

Asunder, Sweet and Other Distress is, without a doubt, and seemingly with all intention, their most immediate record to date.

The brilliance of El Camino lies in the fact that it is still perfectly modern, a step in the direction of legitimizing the use of vocal effects, multi-tracking and ultimately catchy choruses.

The first five cuts on Beauty & Crime are absolutely gorgeous--near and sheer perfection.... The remaining songs, while enjoyable and meeting Ms. Vega’s usually high lyrical standards, don’t gel quite as smoothly.

Obviously, though, the greatness of this record goes beyond its transitions and production “tricks.” Aside from the aforementioned standout “Xcalibur”, Ethiopium is brimming with repeat-worthy cuts.

There is no such thing as a bad moment on Dream River. That being said, I wish that he chose to use a different percussion instrument than bringing back the claves for back-to-back “Summer Painter” and “Seagull”, neither of which use the instrument as well as “The Sing” did.

To be clear, on Hunter Anna Calvi is not simply meeting male musicians on their common ground and outperforming them; rather, she's defining a new geography and daring everyone to follow. It's the lioness, after all, who is the true hunter.

This reinterpretation is as fresh and breathtaking as the group’s past work. Indeed, it may be the most wonderful thing since its debut. Maybe better.

Tha Carter III is a monumental album full of powerful, self-defeating statements that obliterate rap’s internal logic without offering too much more than indifferent bong logic in return. Judged, however, as a collection of singles and quotable verses--the criteria on which we’ve been grading hip-hop records since the end of disco--Tha Carter III is an agonizing piece of work.

Better Souls Good Angels was written and recorded well before the pandemic. But the album, with its darkness tinged with glimmers of hope, its rage touched with tenderness, is very much one for our terrible time.

Crazymad, for Me is a portrait of how we rationalize our behavior as a way of coping rather than a therapeutic dream. It’s a good thing the real Thompson presumably is not the actual CMAT. It’s an engaging fantasy.

With Emma Jean, Lee Fields and the Expressions have crafted a modern day soul masterpiece that could easily sit next to, if not surpass, the greatest releases of the late 1960s and 1970s.

One Day equally recalls the strengths of Fucked Up’s critically acclaimed second record, The Chemistry of Common Life (2008), which received the 2009 Polaris Music Prize. ... One Day is in keeping with this spirit of invention and reinvention, by expanding the group’s sound while still maintaining an ethos of ongoing collaboration and collective commitment.

Although Forget might not usher in a new musical era, it's a near-flawless album and certainly one of the most impressive debuts we've ever seen. It might not change your life, but it will bury itself deep into your brain and make you feel good and warm for a couple of days.

Song For Avery once again shows Avery deconstructing his various influences and welding them together to achieve something remarkable. The result is a sweeping, majestic album that sends the listener soaring above mountainous peaks or gently brushing the canyon floor, often during the space of a single track.

Without sacrificing aural excitement, they have polished their approach with a refined understanding of dynamics and a broadening of style.

The Collective is hard to pin down, but that is part of what makes it so compelling.

Wake Up the Nation, once again illustrates not only his perennial songwriting prowess, but also his incredible staying power amidst artists for whom influence is sporadic and brief at best.

A bonkers and great record.

With Cobblestone Runway, he proves once again he's one of the best songwriters out there, and easily the best Canadian songwriter working today.

For any group to progress and change the way that, say, Radiohead has, is pretty damn inspiring. It shows commitment, and it shows vision.

Rich in heart-rending beauty, tough-but-lovable gutter poetry, and plenty of genuine emotion.

Though the songs are altogether pleasant, they more often than not fail to make a unique impression, instead fading into the background like lovely, though unchanging, scenery.

This debut release from Vieux Farka Touré displays a precocious mastery of form.

Phillips realizes that music, like life, is found in the flaws. She creates sonic sandcastles with strings and percussion and croons above it, but her inner eye is open and sees the waves crashing to the shore.

One can hear every word, every breath, and every sigh. De Vries has Thompson harmonize with the instruments so that they become expressively one voice without losing their distinctive tones.

The fact that this has been UGK’s music for nearly two decades doesn’t blunt the impact of the album, and so UGK 4 Life is comfort food for Southern rap heads: not as invigorating as the first time, but still the best all the same.

With Us Five, Lovano has found a flexible and exciting working band, a group that can play down the center or off on the side, that can swing joyously or reach for the heights of abstraction.

Delicate Steve's debut album, Wondervisions, treads beautifully this line between meaningless emotion and unfeeling precision.

The Mancy of Sound is a challenge, but entirely worth it.

Like most bootleg-style releases, it's not an ideal introduction to the artist. It is, however, a pretty compelling look at him, sometimes as a study, but often simply as a strange sort of concert.

Strawberry distils down the best parts of all the parties involved to make their first truly classic record, one that will be talked about at length this year and for many more to come.

Even a short listen on a mediocre system reveals that Henke possesses the rare ability to bring out the soul in his machines. As with most of his records, Ghosts is full of paradoxes: It's electronic but acoustic, monochromatic but multifaceted, mechanical but lifelike.

Mares of Thrace's second album eclipses their first, which is a significant feat given that their debut was phenomenal. There is much to discover on Pilgrimage, although in truth it works equally well as a straightforward hunk of seething noise.

The extra tracks are fun, but far from essential.

Bear Creek is a beautiful record that will steer you down memory lane.

Target Earth feels like a truly collective effort, one that sees riffs and rhythms repeat, liquefy, mutate and reform as new entities, with Snake’s characteristic delivery and lyrical imagery equally focused and defiant.

I’m a Stranger Here is a strong album from top to bottom.

It’s not the first time Forsyth has wowed us with his ambition, but that the players around him match it makes this a new twist on his sound, one you’ll come back to time and time again, if only to hear what you missed last time.