The record’s energy is impressive; the craft, even more so. What it doesn’t have, though, is any sense of vision, nothing of that dangerous excess or discovery that the best Cut Copy provides in spades. Instead, Haiku From Zero ends up being a bunch of great songs and little else.

The Amulet won’t necessarily bring instant gratification to all of its listeners, and it’s difficult to assess how it will be perceived by dedicated Circa followers. However, it is certainly one of the most well-composed alt-rock/post-hardcore albums of the year, and it seems to bring a newfound sense of maturity to both the songwriting and production aspects of the group’s sound.

I can easily see it lacking the longevity of their other albums, but for now it’s damn good to see the Weavers doing what they do best...screaming about natural nonsense and making some excellent black metal.

The band is out of gas and has been for a while now. Wonderful Wonderful fills the same role as Battle Born, taking mid-tempo pop-rock with aimless verses and marrying them to one stab-at-the-radio chorus after another.

Cryptoriana – The Seductiveness of Decay does everything its predecessor did right, but better, and with more style, flair, and conviction.

The Spark as Shikari-lite, a poppy album which forsakes the sound and fury which made the boys so interesting in the first place. But making the same album twice is anathema here, and the sound of the band isolating the human element and expanding it into their most beautiful, focused work to date is a wonder to behold.

Sure, the lyrics are better, the songs aren’t quite as boring, but it’s becoming harder and harder to defend this band on the charge of being dad rock.

A lot of tracks start off OK, but his flow and style are so unfocused and muddled the songs become a chore to sit through.

Sleep Well Beast sees The National flourish with candid lyrics and diverse song craft, embodying the band’s continuing evolution and life’s constant change.

Although Every Country’s Sun isn’t a flawless album (there are a number of tracks in the middle section that need more time to kick in), it shows us Mogwai nowhere near losing their touch.

Good Nature recaptures the brightness and pop sheen, sure, but it's a trip back to a treasured childhood location only to find that the palace in your mind was always just a fallen tree, and the river your dreams used to float along forever is just a kinda gross, muddy little stream.

When the songs are this satisfying, when each guitar solo tears through cynicism like a wet paper bag, sometimes good old fashioned honesty is more than fine. It’s downright beautiful.

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.

S/T is a valiant try by a band that has a strong history of trying, but it’s neither an impressive return to form, a nostalgic trip back to 90s emo, nor is it a breakthrough in Rainer Maria’s sound, it mostly just exists.

Hill's End is an album of good songs with good hooks; who could ask for anymore?

He displays that it’s just as impressive to make an effective pop song, as it is to create a progressive rock epic. Steven Wilson proves that an artist can venture into uncharted musical waters, even 30 years into their career, for ambitious and vibrant results like these.

It doesn't all work, of course, and that kind of wacky humour nestled alongside self-empowerment anthems can be jarring, but it's all in service of Kesha re-discovering the fun, the joy, the rainbow.

Musically, many of the songs here are not as melodic as the ones on TSAF and rely a bit too much on those blueprints. Nevertheless, the lyrics matter most in my opinion, while the music is just as engaging and easily sucks you in its universe. Dig it!

Kindly Now isn't perfect, and feels more like a transition to something truly spectacular where everything in Henson's bag of tricks can be perfectly utilised; for now, it'll do just fine.

Resonate with them, and you learn to speak about yourself in a way that carries meaning--and this is what What Now does best. Take a walk with this in your headphones and look at the people passing by; you’re allowed some isolation among others.

PP&DS is self-indulgent, silly, messy and heartfelt. It's Cudi at top songwriting form, and the songs on it are arguably the best he's ever written.

Less eccentric and exciting than its predecessor, perhaps, but only by choice. Glass Animals are at their peak in 2016, and perfectly content to be slower and quieter, worming their way into your head by inches but settling in for the long haul once they're in there.

Good for You isn’t a pleasant listen because Amine is so gosh darn happy, it’s because it appears so out of step with a relentlessly negative and dour mood. We could all do with just that much more happiness in our lives.

...Of The Dark Light simply suffers from a lack of purpose, as if it was penned and recorded just to fulfil the band’s onus to Nuclear Blast. Entire cuts come and go without having done anything worth remembering, and the ones that stick in your mind often do for the wrong reasons.

Overall, for a band that will soon enter its fourth decade of activity, Laibach sound impressively fresh and relevant. I am sure Also Sprach Zarathustra will raise many eyebrows, but also receive critical acclaim for its effective minimalist approach.

Add Violence returns us to the bite-sized pop with-a-dark-side which has been Reznor's bread and butter since 2005, but without the energy of Dave Grohl pounding the drum kit like it said a bad word about Kurt Cobain.

Even if Lust For Life isn’t a game changer, it fulfills the potential of a sound that she has been slowly perfecting since she first entered the scene. The album, like Lana Del Rey, has earned the right not to be overlooked.

There are plenty of loveable moments, sure, but they tend to congeal like sand passing through your fingers.

Boris doesn't have any obligation to still be putting out records this captivating, but Dear most certainly captivates, and it has me excited for 25 more years of Boris.

This album is simply objectively terrible. Issues have managed to craft an album that is entirely without any sort of value, appeal, artistic merit, creativity.

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.

The fairly impenetrable wall of sound Nine Inch Nails created here is admirable, especially since everything is presented in just over 21 minutes.

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

Gravebloom is a fun album. Honest. But it’s also a rehash, plain and simple. Nothing done across its eleven tracks hasn’t been done on previous Acacia Strain records.

OKNOTOK will be of little interest to a passerby in a record store; its main value even for the die-hardiest of Radiohead fans is that little peek behind the curtain, a crack of light closer to understanding the way one of the most elusive bands in the world works.

JAY-Z tries to invigorate his musical career by connecting with himself for other people's sake. In total, it sounds like what it is, a business leader for whom the personal proves troublingly difficult to connect with.

Overall, Life Is Good is a cogent evolution in Flogging Molly's trademark Celtic folk sound and a welcome gift from a band celebrating their 20th anniversary this year.

[“Round We Go” is] a roiling, overpowering emotional mixture, and it fits right in with what I’m Not Your Man wants to accomplish: a forthright treatise on sexuality and relationships, told with an uncanny sense of comedic timing and a penchant for reaching for the throat with its hooks, arrangements, and, most resoundingly, its lyrics.

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.

A bold and colorful magnum opus that marks an almost unbeatable personal milestone for Lorde.

Unlike past efforts, however, Ti Amo is jarring for how glossy and smooth everything sounds.

In fairness, Witness isn't a failure, and its good intentions, both politically and sexually, aren't insufferable as much as they are listless and unsatisfying.

Listening to The Optimist is an intense experience, and can have wild transitions from one song to the next given how different some tracks are from others. They are able to make it work though, being an adventurous and engaging continuation, and conclusion, of a past record's concept that still sees the band evolving in a rewarding fashion.

It doesn't help that the music in general is so stubbornly tepid. Sure, overall it's a step up from The Black Market, but there's nothing here that gives the hope of Rise Against vaguely recalling what they used to be good at.

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.

We have Gone Now, which alternates in black-and-white fashion between intriguing and utterly flavorless.

What truly elevates Relaxer for me is that it finally feels like Alt-J is extending their creative reach.

No matter what musical approach is being explored on Is This The Life We Really Want?, it never abandons being clever and lyrically adept.

The Following Mountain illustrates a massive wealth of musical ability and endless directions to take that talent in. Even if it isn’t the most polished or focused piece, it’s a tantalizingly unpredictable listen that with the right molding and direction, could signal even better things to come for Sam Amidon and his fans.

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.

One More Light sees the band embracing its melodic core, and offering no apologies as they expound upon it.

The songwriting is certainly not poor and Glenn’s voice is far from shot, but what makes this album so average is the combination of the lazy arrangements and the poor production which makes the album sound as if the veteran vocalist is singing over a backing CD.

This is music that plays well in every venue, from the late night hangouts of urban bohemia to the awkward houses of the indie disco.

The record still varies its tempo from time to time, resulting in some truly gorgeous gems.

This long-awaited comeback album stands on its own as a remarkable achievement for a band that had to earn their legacy over time, and the love that this album has received reaffirms that legacy, and proves that Slowdive are still capable of exceeding expectations for a modern, invigorating comeback album that cements their talent and emotional resonance.

Although there's nothing innovative about it, at least they brought the guitars back, offering us a handful of groovy tracks among all the kitschy bonanza. The LP is stagnant in the grand scheme of things, but that's good for them. It could've been much worse.

There is no time to make sense of preceding chaos, probably because there is nothing worth making sense of.

It may not inspire a revolution or magically fix the problems of the Trump administration, but it's a comforting and rewarding listen.

It’s a consistently, gorgeously understated record.

Gargoyle marks another solid addition to an extensive catalog.

Every song is so utterly devoid of energy, like they've released a record composed of the spaces between the notes in all their previous work.

Their most socially aware record yet. Whether they address political issues, genocides (both historic and contemporary) or anxieties caused by alienation or inability to cope with the overwhelming pace of the 21st century, the band smoothly blends the beautiful with the ugly. In between the loud, razor wired guitar attack you also get lovely picked chords or bouncy bass lines.

Actress is known to be deliberate and, one might argue, almost ponderous in how he paces his work, but AZD is especially bottom-heavy in concept. Like in an adult store, the best stuff is at the back.

DAMN. remedies a lot of its predecessor's mistakes and gives us something better--a Kendrick not seen since Section.80, throwing tonally and stylistically inconsistent songs together in a desperate scramble to tell us just what the fuck he's feeling. It's slipshod, haphazard and rocky to listen to, and that's the Kendrick I've been missing for the past few years.

They are masters of atmosphere and intrigue, and flirting with pop music has only further aided their chameleonic nature, with this being their most satisfying and diverse effort in many years.

Pure Comedy is definitively a headphone album; where I Love You, Honeybear made you swoon with its overt eclecticism, the gems here need to be unearthed after a few excavations. The album’s pacing does not help matters, burdened with a middle section that dares you to fall asleep and counts on a deep love of Tillman’s voice.

This is a great album, perfect for a retro rave and I am happy to see the band reactivated. Hopefully, it won't take them another 7 years to release the next LP.

They have embraced mainstream success in the best way that would be possible, by sticking to a high concept and shredding their way through a heady, emotional backdrop while displaying their instrumental virtuosity amazingly.

You’re Not As ___ As You Think feels like the conclusion to something that was never started in the first place, it hasn’t earned any of the things it takes without asking, it’s a shallow pretender desperately fumbling in the deep end, and it’s an unfortunate development for a band that used to write dumb, fun songs about girls.

It illuminates very real, very constricting emotions that you know you’ll have to either deal with in true form, or kindle within someone you love upon your own passing.

It all stacks up as an agreeable (not wonderful, definitely not boring) assortment of thumpers.

Spoon’s bravest excursions to date, brilliant and distinct in their own way.

In many ways, this is Delta Machine taken into a more organic direction, offering glimpses of past efforts in the process. The decision to let the songs breathe through airy layers was wise, because you can easily focus on them this way.

Frankly, Mercer’s unfiltered production makes Heartworms an exhausting listen.

NAV is front-to-back one of the blandest takes on the genre so far.

These aren’t the kind of riffs and melodies that will imprint onto my brain the way almost every song from Undoing Ruin or Deliver Us did, but Darkest Hour get a gold star for effort for delivering a strong metalcore record, and more importantly, for pulling off an immensely difficult comeback.

Last Place is a fittingly contented throwback/possible farewell.

By pop standards you could do a lot worse, but ÷ is not an album that will test the ceiling of Sheeran’s tantalizing potential.

In the end, Don’t Get Lost is very enjoyable, yet the main downside is its length.

Flying Microtonal Banana is essentially the same King Gizzard album from last year, updated for the sake of its own consequence. But it's also better than most other albums of its sort, specifically because King Gizzard appear able to coherently piece together a fun anthem with a sense of musical direction.

This is a transitory album true to its name and its concept, illustrating a challenging but ultimately temporary chapter in Silberman’s life. Of course it’s not his best work, but given the obstacles he’s faced, it’s not a bad first step as the world of indie-rock slowly regains one of its most talented and alluring artists.

V is a welcome return to the consistency of I and II, being an elegant return to form for Blackfield while brightening their sound just enough to remain recognizable.

As a writer of the English language, Kozelek gets perfect marks; as a writer of songs, the jury is still out.

Immolation’s music has once again taken a familiar form, only to contort it so as to spell out your inescapable fate.

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

McMahon shows that he still has as firm of a grasp as ever on his unique brand of piano pop-rock, or whatever you’d want to classify it as. This album--while straightforward from a songwriting perspective--is just a collection of powerhouse pop tunes, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that when it’s executed to perfection like it is here.

Themes for Dying Earth is fragile, beautiful to behold, dazzling at times, and easily one of the best surprises of the year thus far.

Each time you listen to it, you feel like you’re gaining a little piece of rare knowledge from the singer’s weathered and experienced life. It’s hard to fault an album that makes you feel such a connection, and Byrne’s latest does just that.

Near to the Wild Heart of Life succeeds only in proving that the Japandroids of 2017 will have a hard time matching their former glories.

I See You is a pleasant enough listen, and in embracing Smith’s more hot-blooded production, the xx have avoided becoming stuck in a rut a second time. Yet like Sim and Madley-Croft in song after song, I See You still leaves me wanting something undefined: something more.

While its brighter moments are generally its better moments from my vantage, it's hard to deny the value and purpose of the storm in such a cycle. And for a band releasing their final album, developing such beautiful replayability is one of the sweetest parting gifts to us critics and consumers.

RTJ 3 is both a sprinter’s dip and a victory lap – it is neither as sinewy as RTJ 1 nor as effusively vivacious as 2014’s RTJ 2, but still finds itself imbibed with the kind of assured professionalism that is only permitted to those who have previously done enough to be granted a low-pressure outing.