Fuck Off Get Free We Pour Light On Everything explores the moral murk of our times with glorious abandon.

There’s an unforeseen clarity in his compositions and vocals.

Gliss Riffer offers just enough hooky material to entice you and make you dance, but you still need to work hard to gain even an inkling of understanding into Deacon’s vision.

hese Days… isn’t the kind of sharp-to-the-touch effort that one associates with excellent rappers who eschew the mainstream.... It’s the start of a conversation; and one can only hope that he plans on finishing it.

While Merchandise hasn’t exactly figured out how to inflate their songwriting to match the scale of the giants who’ve preceded them, After the End still glows too vividly to be obscured by anyone else’s shadow.

All told, it’s another win in both artists’ books, but a mild one.

Twelve Reasons to Die is a straightforward concept album, and it’s very well done.

Here and Nowhere Else’s disposition for self-examination coaxes out a superior depth and nuance when stacked against Cloud Nothings’ previous works.

The bottom line is this: Product is a great album, even though it isn't exactly surprisingly great. Many of Sophie’s best tracks, come to find out, are the ones we’ve heard since 2013.

Although a little too short for the grand mood it builds for us, it’s a beautiful summation of what Moderat’s visions aim to create.

Government Plates doesn’t strive to be a defining post-Epic statement, but it finds Death Grips fascinated with the possibilities offered by its sound and pushing it breathlessly forward.

It doesn’t provide the thrill-a-minute jolts of Light Up Gold, but Parquet Courts may yet become a garage punk band that millennials can call our own.

Deerhunter have returned to tasteful pop-shoegaze mode and made their mellowest, most lyric-driven, most calculated... and, err, most cheesiest album. Best Beach House record of 2015!

While the album itself bleeds originality, the solos themselves are almost interchangeable, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

This is no disaster, nor is it a masterpiece. Songs of Innocence is a competent U2 album, always a good thing.

By scaling back from the overambitious sentiments of albums since 21st Century Breakdown and returning to the simple yet effective power chord structure of earlier Green Day, the trio manages to make Revolution Radio both personal and timely for a country going through the same sense of dislocation they themselves have all too recently experienced.

If another goal of art could be said to remove humanity, if only for a moment, from the physical world by using the tools of the very same physical world, Interiors has followed all the rules of architecture to make a building that floats.

AZD is a slim, sparse electronica record. For all its high and low frequencies, it leaves much of the human audible range empty, space to imagine.

Is Trouble In Paradise a groundbreaking work of unparalleled foresight and talent? No. But is it a spectacular assessment of La Roux’s painfully progressive growth over the past half-decade? Maybe.

Real Estate remains precise and consistent, and they retain their impeccable ear for melody.

Disclosure’s second album was never going to be as huge and loud and groundbreaking as Settle. So rather than lamenting the loss, check out what you’re missing. Because what you’re missing is terrific.

It seems as though Dylan Baldi has effectively evolved from a musical loner trying to go it alone to a mature frontman fully integrated in a strong and cohesive band. It seems as though Dylan Baldi has finally become a punk.

He now realizes he is as much part of the product as the music he makes and seems happy to be taking a backseat to the performers he’s enlisted for his fifth studio album. At no point do Harris’ sandpapery vocals scrape against the beat; this time he lets his beats do the talking.

Blood Orange’s sound is shaping up to be one of the most intriguing and important in pop today, and this sophomore effort is a promising progression for an artist who deserves more of the spotlight, but probably won’t ever demand it.

Alabama Shakes don’t rock the boat necessarily, but by refining the formula, they’ve proven they can succeed with a model that has become all too easy to fail with in recent years.

Assume Form is at its best, unsurprisingly, when he works at the periphery of his formulae.

His third record perfectly distills Passion Pit’s mission statement to a mixture of musical nostalgia and energy that coalesces quite well with larger messages of accepting the past in order to embrace the future.

His chillwave sensibilities remain, but they’re bolstered by more direct elements from the popular hip-hop and disco funk sounds of today.