Science Fiction is a bold, legend-making statement well worth the eight year wait. If it ends up being their swan song, then we can rest assured that Brand New is going out on their own terms: in peak form, bearing no regrets.

[Untitled] is not a comfortable listen. It feels like something not meant for our ears--an incredibly spiritual and private moment that’s bound to compelling scripture and woeful, debilitating memories. It’s unfiltered passion that evades qualification; something to which we’d be performing a disservice by assigning a title.

This is a triumphantly singular album that explores a space that only this band could have made.

Exit is a classic, a refreshing and rewarding experience that is sweet and euphoric and brilliant. Exit should make Tokumaru a star.

What we have here will likely go down in history as the band’s magnum opus. It’s just so fucking massive and Netflix-level binge-worthy. Without a slow song or acoustic number, Brave Faces Everyoneis ten tracks of loud, abrasive rock music that should connect with anyone who’s life isn’t perfect.

It’s a triumphant rebirth, pulsating and healing dark energy that feels inspiring and genuine.

Ethel Cain's debut album is an astonishing accomplishment; one that is as painful as it is constantly bathing in the most beautifully dreamy arrangements. Every moment serves to enhance the conveying of the record's story, and refuses to shy away from the unconventional, intense, or drawn out.

It's the construction of it all that's so perfect: that the music can follow, this time, but still be what Grizzly Bear are all about.

This may not be Radiohead’s most experimental album, but it is without a doubt their most sonically pleasing, elegant, and acoustically immaculate offering to date--and it just might be their best, too.

The easiest and most likely path to continued success for Welch and company would have been to attempt to re-create the spellbinding magic of Ceremonials or the anthemic qualities of Lungs. High as Hope is neither, and that makes it hands down the most forward-thinking album of Florence and the Machine’s care

Diamond Eyes is wild and serene, and I can honestly say its Deftones' best album to date.

Here, the sequencing is more dynamic and the lyrical settings are as intimate as they've ever been. ... Their body of work speaks for itself at this point: Manchester Orchestra is one of the greatest bands alive right now, and The Million Masks of God is yet another feather in their cap.

Ohms is abrasive, destructive, and alluringly beautiful – but most of all, there’s a profound purpose and longing behind every punch that they throw. After two and a half decades, Deftones are still finding new ways to energize, enrage, and inspire themselves – and with Ohms, they’re finding new ways to peak.

Yellowcard may still stand as one of their most impressive feats yet. Serving as their most captivating and emotive release since Ocean Avenue.

It’s another masterpiece that will forever be enshrined in his ever-growing legacy. Absolute perfection.

While documenting the shattered dreams of small town Americana, Brandon Flowers has finally created the Earth-mover that he's always lusted after – and ironically, it comes during a moment of quiet reflection.

In the midst of the endless formula tweaking and inventive twists, there is nary an ill-advised departure or split-second of suggestive identity crisis. It’s all fresh, and it’s all Fleet Foxes.

Mylo Xyloto proves that Coldplay are quite simply the best pop band in the world, bar none.

The Airing Of Grievances is not about anything so much as it is for everything--the beauty of life, the tragedy of life wasted, the looming of death and the desire to go out having lived fully--no, it is not about those things at all, it is for those things, it is a collection of songs written as odes to the gritty and the beautiful and the mixing of the two: our world, our sick world.

Unrelenting, uncompromising, and infinitely catchy, After the Party is a statement album that proves The Menzingers are the best in the business.

It straddles that difficult line between accessible and adventurous, making for a fine stopgap between Fiery Furnaces records and an excellent summer album regardless of the year.

The best parts of classic rock find a home in Holy Vacants without ever seeming forced.

Ordinary Corrupt Human Love sets itself apart from previous Deafheaven releases by connecting the listener to the kind of core-of-your-soul burn that can only come from the pain of failed connection with another human being.

Her best effort yet.

It's not only his best (yes, even better than Lonesome Dreams), but also his lushest and most emotionally absorbing. Acoustic guitars shimmer like diamonds on the surface of a still lake, while Ben Schneider's melodic verses echo a magical blend of nostalgia and romance.

Merriweather Post Pavilion is heartbreaking and heartwarming, and you can either disregard what is one of the most pleasing, enjoyably rich and rewarding releases of the past decade or you can rally with the rest of us, and clap, and sing, and blare it through the earphones on your iPod because we are still all the things outside of us.

As is typical on Run the Jewels albums, every feature is perfectly placed, but the inclusion of Mavis Staples and Josh Homme may be El-P’s finest production moment yet. Homme’s ghostly wailing and questing guitar provide a backdrop for Staples to sing an image that perfectly distills not only RTJ’s oeuvre but the bloody centuries of America’s history.

Perhaps it’s too early to mark this out as a game changer, but there’s something undoubtedly visceral here, an untouchable element that tugs ever so bristly at the connection to the depths of music that not even time might seek to mellow it.

Balanced on the bleeding edge of Yeule’s morbid visions, Glitch Princess practically crackles with vitality and affirmation in their desperate, unadulterated, damaged, awkward willingness to show all and be heard. Does that make it inspiring or depressing? I don’t care. It’s the most meaningful music I’ve heard in years.

In reinventing and giving a modern twist to timeless but overlooked folk gems, Sam Amidon has concocted something entirely unique that nobody else could, or arguably ever would, have done...in itself, a form of inspired creation. There’s an undeniable magic to this thing. I highly encourage you to check your reservations at the door and dive in.

22, A Million is an entirely different kind of beast. Not only does it confirm that Vernon is a modern visionary at the forefront of folk, but it sets the new standard for experimentalism in alternative music.

Killer Mike and El-P release a short, 33-minute record absolutely brimming with ten of the hardest bangers known to man.

This album is a swirl of pure emotions and grandiosity, but is never overbearing, never feeling like anything more than your own personal score. Thus, it’s completely brilliant.

There’s no other band out there that can write such hopeless lyrics while also managing to make me feel so alive.

So it comes as no surprise that the harmonic progression does not cadence as the listener might expect; the ear wants one more chord, but Pecknold and his backup singers simply end. There's nothing more to say.

The Wonder Year’s hard work and dedication has more than paid off with their newest album. I don’t see anything topping it anytime soon, at least not in the pop-punk spectrum. It challenges the limits of the genre.

As with previous efforts, Cancer for Cure pushes the sonic envelope of hip-hop beyond its contemporaries from the very start

I hear Wheel slightly differently every time I listen to it, but what stays the same is the overarching feeling that there is some ungraspable quality to it, something indefinable in the way these songs come together, as if multiple worlds are eclipsing each other while remaining individually visible.

If Ummon felt like floating adrift in space while cosmic rays fried your soul, Ilion is the transition to a plane of existence beyond the cosmos. Ilion doesn’t exist in this universe anymore, and neither do you.

III is a masterpiece of modern indie folk. Bad Books have in every way lived up to the potential of a so-called “supergroup”, combining the best aspects of Andy Hull’s and Kevin Devine’s artistry, with help in no small part from Robert McDowell’s atmospheric guitar wizardry. The songs themselves are rich, lush, and flourishing – yet totally simplistic.

Everything about Only Built 4 Cuban Linx Pt. II demands worship and solidifies Raekwon as one of history's best with a continuation that exceeds his original debut in every way imaginable.

Appropriately, the music across In Lieu of Flowers is the fullest, boldest, and most confident-sounding of the side-project’s entire discography. But honestly, with a story this poignant, potent, and cathartic, the melodies almost become an afterthought. In Lieu of Flowers is the perfect conclusion to a story for the ages; come, gather around, and experience some of the best songwriting of a generation.

Earl Sweatshirt and The Alchemist along with Mike and Vince Staples (on occasion) make an album that is like sap. it leaks, percolates into gaps: the gap between consciousness and subconscious, night/day, joie de vive/joie de ***-it-all (i don't know the french term for this feeling).

New Again feels focused and sure; the band sounds confident despite yet another lineup change.

Without recounting every track, most of the highlights here come from Stevens’ willingness to tinker with perfection; not every live track is as haunting as its corresponding original, but he never fails to deliver that authentic live experience.

With a fan-pleasing alteration in style and 'no-filler, all-killer' logic, the outfit have churned out one of the their most widely appealing efforts thus far, not to mention a staple release for stoner rock in 2013.

What these artists have pulled together in their last outing as a trio is something more than the sum of its parts, a paradoxical masterpiece that lies somewhere in the space between, blindingly bright and painfully incomprehensible.

While each song has a solid musical backbone, it’s Brown’s narratives that make the most profound impact, and move the album forward.

When Only God Was Above Us isn’t shattering glass ceilings, it’s delivering some of the most beautiful but disquieting indie-rock in recent memory.

There's pure pop gold to be found here, but also envelope-pushing alchemy that turns these songs into unforgettable aural expressions of joy.

Justin is foremost an entertainer, and as is clear after about three tracks, The 20/20 Experience is hardly a vanity project; the songs are simply good enough that their length becomes an afterthought.

Without polish or overproduction, Wednesday sound is a powerful exclamation of a narrative, full of noise, beauty, and deeply relatable feelings and stories. It may not feel perfect, but it’s real.

It’s another impressive piece of art from the everchanging Emma Ruth Rundle, and the beginning of something entirely different from the wandering artist.

Every song on IDKNWTHT is strong on its own merit, but when digested as a whole, the album is overwhelming in the best kind of way that stirs the soul.

American Siren is the kind of album that connects with you on a personal level, leaving all kinds of potent thoughts dancing around in your head. Few songs in recent memory have stunned me with a rushing flood of emotions like the heavy cuts here did with ease.

If the point of music is for us to take something from it - whether it be an emotional response or a change in mindset or any sort of inspiration - then The Age Of Adz is the most selfless album ever recorded, and Sufjan is the most giving composer.

A completely brilliant beginning to what hopes to be a long and bright career.

It is difficult to even listen to individual songs because they flow into each other so well that it feels wrong to skip around. That said, this is her strongest collection of songs yet.

The National should give faith to anyone who has become disillusioned with indie music, anyone who misses a time where it didn't seem like all the musicians thought they were better than you and you could actually relate to the damn words they were singing. High Violet is another batch of cement to further supplement The National's already unshakable concrete career.

Women occupy a unique place in the indie rock spectrum. Their songs and makeup can put them nowhere else –- Public Strain would be a Deerhunter album if it weren't for that sneer in its lip- and yet their music is completely singular.

Nearer My God establishes itself as emo's first definitive document on digital-age despair.

What a gorgeous, powerful album of self-discovery this is.

His music more than stands on its own in its brilliancy and, again, the fact that it is supplemented by clearly thought out performance aspects should not mean that it is viewed as anything less than genuine.

This is Animal Collective at their finest folks, inviting everyone in to see them at their peak and loving the freedom that comes with being on top of the world.

Any which way I look at it, I see in its 45 minutes all the signs of a true classic, an album whose daring attitude and commitment to odd sonic luxuries future emissaries of the great tradition of experimental hip-hop music should only hope to emulate.

This album is so pure, so deeply felt that cynicism and pre-prepared anti-hype will just slide off it like a light breeze; that even low points like the clunky, ridiculous "returner" - the band's worst song, as if that means a lot for a band who've never made a bad one – barely make a dent. It's the finest work by a band finally mature enough to trust in sound and texture and feeling, and in good time it will outrun any lingering reputation and be crowned as a masterpiece.

The songs on Black Mile are expansive, textured, each one like a painting in a distinct style; the layers of Simple Math are back with a vengeance, but instead of the empty palazzios and antique wooden drawers of that album, we're left with mineshafts. Pitch black, filthy, bottomless. Tempting.

Blood Moon I is also the heaviest and most impressive expression of Chelsea Wolfe and Ben Chrisholm's music, powered by the incombustible force of Converge and the everlasting spirit of Cave In, and resulting in one of the most impressive collaborations of this kind. Blood Moon I is, truly, an essential album for 2021.

The Seer is everything we could have hoped for--it is Swans, standing proudly and unabashedly at the top of their game after nearly thirty years.

Nine Types of Light proves how hard this quintet can hit, experimental New Yorkers or love-sick idiots.

There’s unhinged beauty meeting catchiness, a cabal that draws in its listener despite its inherent capriciousness. Hidden History of the Human Race is an irrefutable classic, dispelling any doubt that Blood Incantation are one of this generation’s leading death metal acts.

Only by placing the music in the context of David Bowie's death has that roadblock been removed--something I'm quite certain was deliberate on the part of the artist, as musical context so often is. And once that context is realized, so is the dark beauty of Blackstar.

From Dreams to Dust packs all the wit, creativity, and emotionally compelling depth that you'd expect from a band leading the country/Americana charge - until now, we just didn't know that band was The Felice Brothers.

Not only is it essential listening for hip-hop in 2012, but also one of the few records that pushes musical and cultural boundaries in general.

But for all the praise it should receive for being the record Deerhunter were destined to make, what will make Microcastle a classic (and this has every right to become a classic) is what the album means to the person listening.

Time will tell if "Cosmogramma" is the most definitive moment of his career, but at this point it seems the realm of electronic music is open for Flying Lotus to be the next big visionary of his genre.

Sycamore Meadows is an album that was born from heartache, and it’s on its saddest and most visceral numbers that the album truly shines, and perhaps gives some validity to that old lie about art.

Blending the light touch of her backing band with selectively applied electronic elements, Marina gives a more refined take on songs that in her past might have been layered in obtrusive electropop production or overwhelming string arrangements.

Thrice Woven may be credited with returning this Olympian outfit on the right path but ultimately, Primordial Arcana combines the band’s better features into one, defining release.

Overall, this is unmistakably a Banks album, so if you've liked anything she's done so far, this is definitely worth checking out. Despite some of the shifts described above, her darkness is still there, and it is still equal parts inviting and off-putting.

Bark Your Head Off, Dog continues the Hop Along tradition insofar as it is sharp, well-produced indie rock accompanying Quinlan's bold lyrical earnestness. This is the band's hallmark sound, so loyalists can rejoice. What is different this time around, however, are broader and more grandiose instrumentation.

There is familiarity here, but nothing feels routine. This is an album as cohesive and thunderous as it would have been if it had come out in 2014.

An Atreyu record is still very much about the feel, and this definitely feels like it's one of their own. Any of these songs could easily fit in alongside the material they have put out since 2006.

The result is a record that’s more cinematic, darker, louder, heavier and harder than anything we’ve heard from them before today, and frankly, I’m here for it.

It doesn’t aim to instantly satisfy unsuspecting listeners, dazzle newcomers, or alienate longtime fans; but what Unieqav does is craft a digital world sewn together by technology, biological information, science, and action. Engaged by the imprint of minimal techno beats and gliding melodies, the possibilities Unieqav promise are far from endless, but are indeed beautiful.

Burn Your Fire for No Witness’ eleven songs benefit greatly from the heightened sense of clarity afforded by the more spacious arrangements.

Because it's not composed of hundreds to thousands of samples like the others, each piece has to stand out on its own. The elements are no less meaningful, just larger. It takes a skilled hand to make any mosaic, whether you're working with large tiles or tiny pieces of paper.

In essence, this album sounds like Death Magic if Trent Reznor had gotten a hold of it. They’ve subverted the congenial elements associated with their last record to make some of the band’s darkest incarnations yet.

For those wanting Untrue levels of output, that album will forever be at your disposal. An album designed as worship has now entered that same vault of romanticized antiquity.

This is an album made by a bunch of dudes in their absolute prime, and while it’s easy for one to assume that the disparate styles being straddled here would make the LP less cohesive, it’s just not the case; Paradise Lost don’t lose an iota of focus or momentum in the making of this concise project – the scenario only serves to strengthen Obsidian’s case for being their most revered album for the years to come, and is one hell of an act to follow up on.

Transgender Dysphoria Blues might be the most important album of the year, and its message will hopefully seep into music culture and spread till records like this don’t *have* to get made anymore.

This album is the first work by Kishi Bashi that feels like a mission, and it’s that same sense of purpose that drives Omoiyari to be the most beautiful and impactful piece of his catalogue.

If they’ve been treading water for the last ten years, then How to Solve Our Human Problems, Pt. 1 is the sound of them emerging--refreshed, invigorated, and ready to return to the hearts and ears of fans across the world.

Colored Sands is exactly what a Gorguts record should sound like in 2013 and will surely breathe for years to come.

Dirty Projectors is back with a reshaped identity, serving up experimental/artistic indie-pop while retaining its penchant for eclecticism and unpredictability.

Deafheaven’s second outing is wondrous celebration of boundless ambition and pure artistic vision.

Humble, modest, unassuming, and attentive to its runtime and the need to make a better song; in a year where Migos, “Mask Off,” and DAMN. have dominated the conversation, Big Fish Theory sticks out as the most consistent and well-versed rap album of the year.

There’s all the verve and naked empathy of the best of his classic rock forebears, with none of the bombast or contrivances. Lost in the Dream is a long record, to be sure, yet it never overstays its welcome.