Architects have made another harmless, inconsequential rock album that’s worth spinning once or twice for curiosity, as there are some decent – dare I say great – moments here.

Despite the record running slightly long and a few songs getting a bit repetitive: the lyrics and the arrangements are great, sure, but it’s the singer-songwriter’s ability to make us feel “it” which matters.

The real highlight, though, is the title track’s sentimental musing on a lost lover or friend or relative, simple but gorgeous and drenched in honeyed harmonies. It’s the best thing here by a substantial margin. ... I Walked With You A Ways is undoubtedly a solid album, and you could do much worse if looking for a straightforward and accessible record in the country/Americana sphere.

Omens shows some return to form, but couldn’t hold a stiff one against the likes of Ashes Of The Wake, Sacrement or VII: Sturm und Drang and that’s not at all Cruz’s fault.

Skullcrusher’s first album may not present a doormat saying ‘welcome’ in bold letters, but it presents one of the most rewarding sonic experiences of the year for those willing to open its undefined doors.

Return of the Dream Canteen is better overall than the previous effort. It might have a couple of higher sonic peaks, but suffers from similar flaws. Obviously, one hour-long album with the strongest tracks recorded in the past couple of years would have been enough for a stronger comeback.

When I’m in the perfect mindset this album feels like one of the finest albums I’ve heard all year, while if listened to when the mood isn’t quite right, the sleepiness of most of the album overwhelms its virtues. At the very least, Nothing Special is worth a spin for fans of Okkervil River, folk, or good lyrics, if for no other reason than to decide whether the album title is appropriate or not.

ILYSM explores memories and how to process them in the here and now, while also being a record I expect to be remembered for a long time. It’s Wild Pink’s crowning achievement as a band.

This album is certainly worth checking for those who found something to enjoy on Bonny Light Horseman, and even for those who simply desire a mellow folky listen, but don’t expect anything earth-shattering. Chalk it up as another pretty good effort from a supergroup.

Yet, for all its wonderfully dense qualities, A.A. Williams’ voice remains the star of her show. It’s as consistently powerful as it is calming: it fits tranquil acoustic soundscapes as well as devastating post-metal disintegrations.

Shepherd Head is undoubtedly a solid release, especially considering the u-turns which make it, clearly, a different kind of Young Jesus record. While I’m not sure that the album’s scattershot nature will endear it to a broader audience, its tenuous genre affiliations leave a potentially wide range of listeners in the crosshairs.

The End, So Far is lack-lustre at almost every turn.

It feels strange yet familiar, rather comforting and welcoming while also showing the artist being peacefully exalted about it. Some will need a tunneling machine to get to them, and some other will do with a spoon, but there's treasure to be found in the heart of Fossora, and if willpower is not enough to help you find them, mushrooms will surely help.

It may be flawed and an uneven listen, but The Hum Goes on Forever is another gripping entry in The Wonder Years' canon in spite of that - perhaps another defining moment, where they finally keep their heads above water long enough to see the sunrise.

All the characteristics of JID's music appear in full force: the attention-grabbing beat switches equalled only by his effortless changeups in flow, absolutely absurd rhyme schemes and storytelling chops, and features that range from fantastic (Earthgang on their fun shit, a more fired-up Yasiin Bey than we've heard in the better part of a decade and a disarmingly beautiful cameo from James Blake) to the banal (21 Savage and Lil Durk, sounding exactly like you'd expect them to). ... Fun, idiosyncratic and personal.

One certainly shouldn’t turn to Weather Alive when looking to jam out hard, but for a cohesive batch of wistful mood pieces, look no further.

The band doesn’t quite manage to fire on all cylinders for the entirety of their debut LP (with a few mid-album tracks seeing the quality level slip a bit), but a good chunk of this record is absolutely fantastic, blending grit and melody with an undeniable intensity, both musically and atmospherically. All told, warts and all, this is a record which absolutely merits inclusion among the year’s finest.

It’s the first track that commands serious momentum, though the closer “50/50” isn’t too shabby either. ... Its novelty burns off by the halfway mark, but there’s a strong sense that here, at least, was a direction worth doubling down on. Kudos. The rest of the record is an over-calculated mess.

Asphalt Meadows not only lives up to but truly, actually fulfils the promise of Death Cab for Cutie – of music not always new, or unique, or 'experimental', but always, always genuine, and always, always packed with meaning and emotion.

The Hardest Part contains some of the most genuine sounding country/pop that has been released in quite some time.

The strength of the opening trio of tracks on Expert In A Dying Field is a potent reminder of their best attributes.

It’s a respectable record with easily enough depth and conviction to hint at something thoroughly vital, but it folds so much of itself along lines too deeply creased into forms too clean-edged to bear the kind of authorial stamp its many raw qualities beg for.

This is unsettled music for an unsettled era, the kind of songs which can sometimes make you feel euphoric and sometimes make you feel down-hearted (sometimes even both at the same time). Through it all, though, these tunes are the sonic equivalent of living, breathing, human warmth.

Autofiction manages to be both raw and cinematic, dangerous and beautiful. Put more simply, it’s an excellent rock album.

The good thing is this second record, Born Pink is a slight improvement overall, feeling a tad more cohesive, despite its modest runtime of 24 minutes. Their debut was simply a mixed bag of tracks thrown there to please the horde of fans who insisted on a full length release.

Sunrise On Slaughter Beach is far from a perfect effort, but it’s good to have the merry band from Maryland back again regardless.

The serene aesthetic is undisputedly the selling strength here, but if you’re looking for some of the band’s best creative ideas, you won’t find many of them here. Nevertheless, if you’re wanting a wholesome pop-rock album with plenty of experimentation, you may find a thing or two to like here.

Dimensional Bleed may not be the monumental statement Death Spells embodied, but it is certainly capable of engulfing anyone willing to allocate it some dedicated time. Moreover, it reaffirms Holy Fawn's position as one of the most intriguing bands soundtracking the real-time slow-motion apocalypse of [right now].

A mixed bag that gathers the good, the average, and the bad. A melange of familiar echoes which, while not a symphony of destruction, still do enough damage to keep the brand alive and kicking.

Physical Thrills demands your focus and immersion, a clear sign that Silversun Pickups are accessing their artistic side and perhaps better than they ever have before. What felt like a band in decline just a few short years ago has been given a shot in the arm.

For a debut, it’s confident and consistent, moving fluidly through a range of styles and executing it all convincingly, while also conveying a sense of emotion. The biggest gripe is that while the album taken together flows nicely and remains engaging, there also aren’t any tunes which make for proper stunners in their own right. That’s ok for now, though.

It’s hard not to enjoy it. With Muse, they have [un]intentionally touched on this form of art. For (mostly) all the wrong reasons, Will of the People is the best, most engaging record to come from the band in sixteen years, and it’s quite possibly the most fun I’ll have with an album all year as well.

Earth Patterns approaches “atmospheric masterpiece” status. It’s full of colorful and refreshing music which captures the essence of beautiful outdoor spaces in the summer or fall (with this sense perhaps encouraged by the gorgeous album artwork).

There’s greatness all over this thing, and the way in which Boris stop just short of seeing the whole thing off in style can’t help but scan as unnecessary and frustrating. Did Heavy Rocks (2022) need to be a triumph for rambunctious heavy rocking glory at the minor but palpable expense of quality control? Bah. Shou ga nai; Boris is Boris.

While this album similarly holds nothing back, it’s not an artifice either. It’s Demi Lovato ditching their indoctrinated pop formula in favor of the music they truly want to be making, all while going for the jugular in terms of scale. Holy Fvck is massive and over-the-top in just about every way, yet anchored by very real pain that lends substance to each grandiose moment.

This is yet another strong release from a veteran crew whose mature-era output puts the vast majority of bands of their tenure to shame. Additionally, as a relatively trim outing and with its inherent jamminess (that’s a word), Ancient Astronauts can serve well as a solid first experience for Motorpsycho novices.

It’s the LP’s sense of cohesion, achieved despite its sonic variety, which makes Hour Of Green Evening a triumph. A measured triumph, but a triumph nonetheless.

Reset, in spite of its flaws, still offers a unique wrinkle in the Animal Collective fabric that's worth exploring. Even if you only come back for the saccharine highs, some of the record's more subtle moments will continue to tug at your ankles like a strong undertow.

These tunes are an absolute joy to listen to. Misadventures Of Doomscroller probably isn’t the AOTY 2022, but if your criteria is “best album to listen to while cruising the Pacific Coast Highway, wind in your hair”, well, it’s a shoo-in.

God’s Country is a sordid treat. It’s too personably grounded and idiosyncratically voiced to be mistaken for anyone else’s recycled diatribe; it punches up tenaciously every step of the way; it’s ready for the end of days, and it hates itself for this with a vengeance. What’s the appeal? It’s bloody wonderful.

After a series of good-to-great efforts, the self-titled manages to present a much more unified mood than its predecessors and additionally cuts out the spoken word moments which (in my opinion) greatly detracted from previous albums. Here, it all comes together.

Patina sounds pristine and good enough to justify its own existence. When the highlight ‘Special’ carefully laces its framework with enough sparkles and ethereal vocal melodies to light up a pitch black sky, it’s hard to feel anything but joy. Tallies make music that, in absence of originality, is of excellent quality.

Emotional Creature provides enough to keep the group’s longtime fans happy, while also extending some tendrils to explore potential future evolutions. In short, it’s one of those transition albums whose legacy will heavily depend on reception to Beach Bunny’s future output. Growing up is hard, but for now, Emotional Creature serves a solid portrait of a band in motion.

Sure, IM NAYEON is all glossy sweetness and may lack nutritional value, but does that really matter when the final product is this easy to sink your teeth into?

Trail of Dead sound rejuvenated, ridiculous and ready to rock. From the gloriously corny 80s riff that "No Confidence" rides to greatness to a recurring musical motif that ties all these disparate sounds and several interludes together, paid off perfectly in the moving closer "Calm as the Valley", XI: Bleed Here Now is a complete piece of art.

The trio are at the top of their game, and if they haven’t grown out of their disposition for laboriously concocted indulgence, then they have at least worked out how to synthesise it towards more entertaining ends.

The Other Side of Make-Believe preserves the band’s haunted post punk proclivities, but the subtle positive messaging from Banks (and occasionally from the instrumentals) adds another layer of depth to the band’s sound. ... This is easily one of the best albums of 2022, and it stands up to some of Interpol’s greatest works.

Aura pronounces the spirit of each piece very clearly, which is cause for gratitude; there’s enough weight to these eight intricate articulations of the ineffable that each offers a distinct glimpse at something ordinarily invisible and ultimately quite precious.

It’s occasionally a little oblique (“Turquoise Hyperfuzz”’s rhythmic breakdowns feel purpose-built to add a little edge to what’s otherwise the IDM version of straight candyfloss), but packs little of the clutter so often associated with µ-Ziq's quintessential-but-not-quite-essential style.

There’s a warmth and resonance to every last beat here, and so the album, while frequently propulsive, is far too lush to be harsh or impersonal. When it goes it doesn’t shut you out, it sweeps you along.

One that sounds like a veteran band falling in love with playing music and being friends again. This newfound comfort outside the comfort zone yields some truly spectacular results in the album's staggering midsection.

Sometimes, Forever is the most colorful album of Allison’s career, but once all her skeletons are revealed, that’s when she’ll reach her true peak. Until that moment arrives, this is the most convincing and complete package from Soccer Mommy to date.

If Fiasco could take the energy captured on the breathtaking second verse of "Ms. Mural", a truly fantastic trilogy-capper, and stay there for an entire project he might finally make his masterpiece; this time around, though, unhurried and easy is a suit that he wears well.

Vaxis II: A Window of The Waking Mind takes everything questionable about Vaxis I’s overall charming forays into stadium rock, castrates it of any semblance of grit, urgency or personality, and subjugates its once formidable trove of catchiness to an almost impressively bland slew of commercialised hard rock templates that, in conjunction with the record’s militantly pop production, render it a gormless caricature of everything once endearing about the band.

It successfully adds another wrinkle to her sound with the addition of sweeping string sections, majestic brass horns, and epic flourishes. It also can’t be overstated just how brilliant this album’s pinnacles are, with ‘Becoming All Alone Again’, ‘Up the Mountain’, and ‘Spacetime Fairytale’ standing out as particularly dazzling career highlights.

Perfume Genius could easily have made this as a wilfully oblique record; the reality is mercurial, intoxicating and richly creative at every turn, and you now know this. Get out there and get lost in it.

It's a dark, gorgeous, twisted, spine-tingling experience that is able to pull off such a decelerated pace because it owns that pace entirely, injecting it with haunting rhythms and naturalistic beauty.

This is a significantly more rustic album than All Mirrors, with major country and folk influences joining that album’s lush art pop sound. Even the songs which lean towards the latter style are often gentle and delicate. It’s also a record which feels infinitely more personal.

Super Champon’s genius lies in the way it brings this relatively complex subject matter down to a set of laser-sharp bangers, all supported with just enough English to resonate either side of the Anglosphere frontier.

The record’s stylistically confused (and confusing) bookends prevent the project from being a straight dream pop homerun. Nonetheless, the bulk of The Last Thing Left is essential summer listening: don’t overthink it, just enjoy the vibes.

Ultimately, Harry's House doesn’t really go anywhere or do much of anything at all. It breezes by with songs that seemed designed for the festival circuit and that are interesting and experimental enough that they’ll fit with Harry’s aesthetic without being too alienating for radio, almost as if he and his team couldn’t decide which was more important to them, so they went with neither.

Cruel Country might get a little sleepy at times, but it’s a rather impressively compelling listen, given its intimidating length. There’s a lot of beauty and feeling to be unearthed here, and the album greatly rewards further listening.

An infallibly-down-the-line no-nonsense rather-quite-good-but-not-at-all-groundbreaking psych-rock record.

It's an album that shows a band comfortable and willing to begin moving on, 70 minutes of something new enough that you can see a pretty bright future for the band that seemed impossible to many just three years ago.

This Is A Photograph is an album which aims for an impressively grand vision, but rarely hits the mark. In its less grandiose moments, though, it’s frequently successful, providing the listener with a number of lovely folk tunes.

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.

The listening experience is defined by languorous stretches between big moments, and becomes more of an exercise in patience than an engaging and enlivening journey. If it were more cohesive, more palpably moving in a musical sense, had less fat to trim, I could see myself fawning over Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers in fanboyish frenzy. As it stands, I think that in another five years I'll be wading back through this flawed masterpiece.

A delicately-crafted work fusing experimentalism and sheer sonic beauty, A Light For Attracting Attention stands proudly on its own merits as a top-tier piece of art rock, connections to a certain critically and publicly acclaimed band aside.

Endless Rooms has the feel of a transition album, with the group throwing some new ideas at the wall and seeing what sticks. There’s several new sounds and influences present on Endless Rooms which present intriguing and viable routes for RBCF to pursue on their eventual fourth record. The future is uncertain, but hope springs eternal.

This may well be the group’s most sonically diverse outing yet, for good and for ill; even on the many occasions it isn’t convincing, it often manages enough novelty to entertain nonetheless, and Nigel Godrich's impeccable production job certainly makes the whole affair easy on the ears.

We've Been Going About This All Wrong reflects on the darkest moments of her earliest work with a newfound sense of confidence and control fully discovered in the Remind Me Tomorrow era.

While it's hard not to succumb to the subtle disappointment inherent in hearing an artist you love make such a sudden shift in sound, beyond that initial disappointment is an album that is the artist’s maturest to date. An album that is, somehow, equal-parts icy and warm; which progresses, despite this contrast, with an ease that is masterful; and which, inevitably, leaves me curious and yearning for LPs 3-7.

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.

Zeit is imperfect, but there’s so much to be savoured here, and aspects you won’t get from any other Rammstein album.

As it stands, Giving the World Away is a decent record with some excellent highlights, but also one that fails to live up to Hatchie’s potential. It’s somewhat frustrating, most of the time.

Overall, the journey Everything Was Beautiful creates is definitely more entrancing and vivid than And Nothing Hurt.

Skinty Fia won't tell you much about whether that vein of insecurity that runs below the band's surface level of confidence can fuel good art indefinitely; in its best moments, though, it may make you want to hear the band crack open that ground and let their strangest selves out completely.

Tight as heck, gorgeously thematic, lovingly orchestrated, produced within an inch of its life (i.e. well), seamless, vital, other compliments, all of them. An album with a pulse.

This record does nothing to convince Kurt Vile skeptics to jump on the bandwagon, but for the already-converted it will also do nothing to drive them away. Indeed, this is certainly one of the singer-songwriter’s stronger efforts, even coming eight LPs into his solo career.

Together is a finely-crafted work which should hold up to listening under widely varied circumstances, likely to feel as much at home amid the windswept, skeletal trees of late autumn as on the porch on a humid summer evening. All told, there’s plenty to rejoice about, the sad boys are back in town.

Disco4 :: Part II might not get everything spot on, but it still stands up to Part I in a way that proves their last record wasn’t a fluke.

El Mirador is definitely on the right path, becoming Calexico’s strongest effort since Algiers. These cheerful tunes make for an immediate, fun affair.

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 record comprises fourteen tracks, yet managed to be nothing more than a bad concoction of bad pop punk, bad rap rock, bad lyrics, and vaguely competent performances.

The sum total of their 2022 opus is a straight upgrade to SOUL GLO’s already brilliant back catalog, bursting with scorching new takes on old ideas and enough spirit and passion to set the entire scene ablaze.

While it has highlights aplenty, they seem the kind of highlights that would fare better outside of the context of Listening To A Whole Album In 2022. ... As a start-to-finish experience, there’s a tendency for things to melt together as momentum flags, the sequencing grates, or you find yourself paying less than your most devout attention to the swiftly passing milieu.

The resultant journey is a jittery, joyous, glorious, gleaming mess: substantially less coherent than their previous outings, but no less endearing.

Never Let Me Go is a fantastic album, and it could even be argued that it’s the most consistent and engaging album of their career – certainly, it’s their most ambitious to date.

Imagine the worst Good Charlotte song repeating “I fell in love with an emo girl” as a chorus. ... If anything, the more trap-infused tracks gracing the record’s back half fare better, solely because they aren’t direct copies of some of the most well-known pop punk songs of all time. Moreover, the extremely overblown production doesn’t achieve the same maximalism here, making for a comparatively listenable bunch of songs. Key word: comparatively.

On the one hand, this is a record which sees Destroyer recalibrate their formula, quite successfully, to avoid any potential staleness in the fifth incarnation of their recent run. As such, it feels like a record that most, if not all, music fans with any interest in Destroyer could enjoy. On the flip side, this album also continues the trend that Have We Met began, accentuating Bejar’s idiosyncrasies in a more pronounced way than before.

This is a respectable effort, with glimmers of excellence in many places. Indeed, this could well be an entrancing listen for the right fan, but sadly, for me, neither the atmosphere or the instrumentation is enough to prevent my mind from frequently wandering away while listening.

Synthetic synapses spark and crackle via the Boston 5-piece’s revered fusion of nu-metal revivalism and modern mathcore shenanigans, each track adding another glorious jerking movement to their macabre, digital death rattle.

This latest effort is an unabashed classic hip hop record for you to either take it or leave it. The only disappointment is that it could have easily been more than this.

The Long Road North is a more sophisticated record than A Dawn to Fear, and Cult of Luna’s reputation for steely competence is quite at home in its various details and refinements. It’s less contingent on the intensity of individual moments, benefitting more from a pervasive atmosphere of the risky-wilderness-journey variety.

Present Tense is a comfort album on the pleasant side of catchy; it’s the perfect collection of songs to augment your mood when the weather climbs to twenty-something centigrade.