It rings true to one man's unshakable vision.

All he [Malkmus] wants to do is surrender to the lightheaded rush of the music, and the results are downright glorious.

The result is his most straight-ahead fun album since the Nineties.

Some of the most enjoyable music on This Is All Yours is the simplest, kindest and funniest.

Marciology again demonstrates why Roc is one of rap’s most unique voices — no matter how many artists try to ride the wave.

Stars sound confident enough to set anything on fire.

As glorious as the sound of this thing is, glinting with letter-perfect ‘70s-’80s rock sonics and touches of 21st-century psychedelic irony, the songs are the show, written by a woman of a particular age from a perspective well past jaded--she’s been there done that--swung back around to a wide-eyed, faintly zen reportage. Poetic images pop.

Punk purists may hate it. But dance-floor revelers will drown them out.

If Vampire Weekend was Rushmore, Contra is their Royal Tenenbaums: brainy, confident and generally awesome.

The music is sparer than it was on Channel Orange--more mature, jammed less feverishly with ideas--but adventurous nonetheless.

The three-CD set surveys their story so far, offers fascinating glimpses of roads not taken, and contains must-hear new music.

Tree of Forgiveness is his first set of originals in over a decade. It's produced by Dave Cobb, and it's very good, frequently brilliant, with all the qualities that define Prine's music.

Hey What is a well-rounded experience from the first track, the gorgeously devastating “White Horses,” to the last, “The Price You Pay (It Must Be Wearing Off)” and all its tentative hope, with moments in between that ebb and flow with the capriciousness of human emotion.

On When Smoke Rises, his voice is most often smooth and restrained, making the sparse moments of emotional trilling even more poignant.

Dylan is as warmly engaging as ever on "Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues" and "Talkin' Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues," which remains one of his funniest songs. The only bummer? The tape doesn't start until partway through the opener, a rewrite of Henry Thomas' "Honey, Won't You Allow Me One More Chance?"

On No Thank You, the follow-up to her excellent 2021 breakthrough Sometimes I Might Be Introvert, Simz gives us 10 choice cuts (showcasing her brilliance and breadth) that convey the whole emoji board of riveting emotions.

Cat Power, lays full claim to the title of her tenth album, Wanderer with the authority of a blueswoman who’s seen some shit, alternately conjuring trances and slapping you out of them, projecting clear-eyed, uncompromising strength on one of the most fragile-sounding sets she’s ever made.

The greater, constant lift is in the album's earthy-R&B roll--the slow-drag groove in "Born to Sing" suggests Ray Charles leading the band at New Orleans' Preservation Hall – and the disarming, one-of-a-kind warmth of Morrison's gift.

What’s most impressive about The Highwomen, handsomely produced with Nashville neoclassicist Dave Cobb, is how artfully, and matter-of-factly, it engages social issues. Credit the concentration of songwriting talent. Every woman here is at the top of her game.

Unlike her previous album Younger Now, where Cyrus dabbled in a rootsier sound without much substance, she actually has a lot to say on Plastic Hearts.

He's hook man to pop's most advanced megastars – see Solange's "Don't Touch My Hair," Kanye West's "Saint Pablo," Frank Ocean's "Alabama," Drake's "Too Much"--but his debut LP proves him their peer.

If you can't enjoy Joy, you will probably never enjoy Phish. Yet, to paraphrase a vintage Phish song, what's most impressive here is how much they seem to be enjoying themselves--truly, deeply, gratefully. It's nice to have them back.

Neko Case's clarion pipes remain the calling card, but on her 8th studio LP, between lyrics and vocal arrangements, they've never channeled more imagination or sense of purpose.

Silent Alarm is dance rock, but highly caffeinated.

A lower-dosage Animal Collective, the Foxes stuff their free-form songs with rich, swirling melodies; billowing clouds of organs, tom-toms, bells and assorted stringed instruments cloak group vocals whose secular-gospel, suede-fringed precision owes plenty to Crosby, Stills and Nash.

At 15 tracks, Petals for Armor can occasionally feel redundant; two or three songs feel like retread territory that was better explored elsewhere, and there’s only so many metaphors you can create for flowers. Still, the album’s final third, while the most pop-oriented section, is also its most interesting. ... It’s the sound of an artist blooming into some the best music of her career.

When Hughes' drolleries and hopeless romanticism combine, the effect can be sublime.

On I Am Easy to Find, another standard-bearing indie dude brand has reconfigured itself with multiple women’s voices at the LP’s core, a portion of the roughly 77 musicians that temporarily explode the band’s quintet. ... They pull it off without diluting their National-ness.