Átta has enough going for it to warrant an inspection from the rest of us, but it's both fairer and far more flattering to view it as the conclusion to a troubled chapter in the band's history than the enthusiastic heir to any hefty expectations you might otherwise burden it with.

Dixon’s radiant songwriting paves the way, and his expressive style makes for an enchanting journey through blissful soundscapes.

It’s the end of the world every single day, and King Gizzard have just offered you its soundtrack.

If you’re looking for something with a bit more bite and ambition, you might be a little disappointed with what’s on offer. In spite of that, this is easily one of the strongest rock albums to come from 2023 so far, and if you’re a fan of the band or you enjoy the genre in general, this is sure to quench the majority of people’s thirst.

Heaven Is A Junkyard might be a comparatively trim release, but it contains multitudes.

At the end of the day, Purge is Godflesh doing Godflesh and doing a good job at it, but as far as how it stacks up against the rest of their discography, it’s far from a high point.

Heimdal has a more organic feel than its most recent predecessors, a less polished approach that gives it a rawer edge while remaining complex and adventurous. This more unrefined blackened aesthetic, though present throughout the album, is magnificently explored in 'Congelia', which delivers a constant and overwhelming flow.

Weathervanes is a bit of a downer. Regardless, though, it’s Isbell’s reliably exceptional songwriting, the bursting-out-of-the-gate energy of the 400 Unit (just listen to the barnburner that is “When We Were Close”), and a talent for subtle but inescapable hooks which make the doom and gloom of these songs not only bearable, but rather inviting.

As a whole, Shadow Kingdom might not be a revelation, but it’s an interesting experiment with plenty of solid results.

Every member audibly leveled up with each LP and Formal Growth in the Desert again takes it up a notch. There are bits of everything the quartet crafted so far and more, all incorporated into a cohesive and intense narrative. As the instrumentals become more evocative, so does the storytelling.

While not reinventing the wheel, and still struggling with occasional blandness, there are plenty of moments here which simply provoke more excitement and emotion than I’ve felt from Foo Fighters’ music for a while.

Bunny's performances are pristine: the record navigates its hooks, sonic sways and immaculate v..v..vibes with palpable ease.

Its songs are generally brisk, compositions tame, nuances readily graspable and holistic color palette decidedly uniform.

Kenny Segal, a true and varied talent in and of himself, has a firm grasp on the gift that billy woods possesses, and has doubled down on his instinct to assist, to foreground the whims of a true poet in prime form. billy woods takes the bearing, and we follow.

All Of This Will End is the type of album that will alternately satisfy and disgruntle the existing fanbase, but for me, it’s just another uneven but worthwhile step on an emerging artist’s journey.

None of them break any new ground for the act, however, they are really tight songs overall.

It is every bit as excellent as I could have hoped for. Museum is a haunting affair, delicate and understated at all times yet bold enough to be decidedly impressive.

Variables is not only much more ambitious than its predecessor (sorry Bring Backs), but also the most forward-thinking album Alfa Mist has put to wax thus far, and an experience far more suited to ruminative cigarettes by candlelight than vape-assisted marathon study sessions.

It’s not as seamless a blend as last year’s Ashenspire, but both idea and execution are exquisitely fresh among the extreme scene. Portrayal of Guilt always had the potential to craft a definitive album, and if Devil Music is not it, then they sure are on the right track.

In all its ethereal beauty, Ceremony is an ideal companion, whatever you’re going through right now. It’s a perfectly suited album to fill your earbuds while going on a walk, or for the next time you’re lounging on a chair in your backyard as the sun shines down.

Fuse lands as a welcome sampler of the Everything But the Girl sound updated to the ‘20s, but not quite the powerhouse comeback they are so clearly capable of.

Spectral Lines is a batch of quietly luminous tracks that feel just as interlocked as the secrets of the universe, sharing pianos that blossom to stunning effect, vocal harmonization that whisks your mind off toward the ether, guitars with just enough bite to lend traction, and seamless transitions that give the entire experience an effortless, elegant flow.

Ten tracks, forty minutes really is the perfect package for a pop record that oozes sophistication while not taking itself too seriously, and that knows when to trade the bomb-ass-thicc with lovers' lullabies.

This album is exactly what you’d expect from Fruit Bats. It’s fairly slim in runtime, very chill, and could conceivably be described as anything from indie pop to country rock without a listener batting an eye. There are songs notably catchy (“Rushin’ River Valley”), affecting (“We Used To Live Here”), and both of those previous descriptors at the same time (the goofily-titled “Jesus Tap Dancing Christ (It’s Good To Be Home)”)

I also really like the album, and I would give it 4 bags of popcorn.

The palettes on offer are frequently gorgeous and sometimes even transcendent, but No Highs' pervasive gloom and downer vibes render it more standoffish than the lofty fear and trembling of Ravedeath or the playful eclecticism of Radio Amor.

All in all, Henry St. marks a triumphant return for The Tallest Man On Earth, as he once more emerges from the Swedish countryside to take the folk world by storm. This time, though, he’s got companions, leading to a fuller and richer sonic journey than ever before.

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.

With a smattering of new influences combined with the homage to their own past, Metallica’s 72 Seasons is another solid release in their discography. It’s an album that feels more consistent and original than anything they’ve done since the Load releases from forever ago.

From the slowed tempo of the cinematic opener “Grand Junction” to the animated “Sixers”, they’ve crafted some of the most unpredictable and sweeping arrangements yet. This is an odd one, folks. And like much of Finn’s work, I’ll be racking my brain on its many idiosyncrasies for the foreseeable future.

The overarching weakness seems to be that, while this is a set of songs being performed by talented musicians clearly having the time of their lives, it often feels like nothing more, simply a (great) set of songs rather than a coherent album statement. The previous paragraph’s fleeting criticism is just that, though: fleeting. The Record, when compared to Boygenius, inevitably comes out much ahead, reflecting the singer-songwriters’ substantial growth as musicians in the intervening half-decade.

If, in 1970, a fusion between jazz and rock felt inevitable, it's only natural jazz's fusion aspect gets refreshed with electronics. That, along with its determination to improvise shit and try to come up with new sounds, is how London Brew successfully channels the legacy of its inspiration.

The raw energy and occasionally questionable anger of their early years has nicely matured into a confidence and consistency that they've never had before, a diverse set of songs which feels more than the sum of its parts thanks to the band's locked-in chemistry with their longtime producer.

The Other One takes its metal/pop influences and fuses them into a seamless sound that trades Kawaii for seriousness and atmosphere. While it might be initially disappointing to lose a decade of Babymetal influences, it was probably time and the more mature and serious Babymetal sound is still as captivating as always.

Memento Mori’s biggest flaw is the middle section, as the respective songs don’t really stand out. Of course, they remain decent at the very least, “Before We Drown” being perhaps the one to return to most. Other than that, this is another solid Depeche Mode album with a handful of highlights that fans should definitely add to their playlists.

This is damn good music. Like, legitimately sensational. Some of the best of 2023, actually.

Some of the most spotlessly produced music I’ve heard in my lifetime, let alone this year. Gonzalez unfortunately continues to struggle with cohesion and distilling his musical ideas down to their most valuable elements, but his latest full-length is an undeniable improvement over his mid-late 2010’s output, and hopefully the beginning of a long upward trajectory for the M83 brand.

For old school fans of the band, Dying of Everything would be more than enough. ... for newcomers, this might be an issue, as we're not in the 90s anymore, and to impress a new generation of metalheads that think this or that deathcore album “could use more blast beats”, Obituary would need to submit themselves to a change that isn't feasible or realistic.

UGLY is a headlong tumble into deep waters, careening sharply off the edges of decency and screaming out for meaning as it goes, arse over teakettle into the unknown. Follow it down if you want, just untie that rope around your waist before you do: this is the kind of fall you take at terminal velocity or not at all.

The often minimalistic approach requires time to settle in, still the duo clearly had in mind the bigger picture. It definitely has a charm of its own, despite being hard to digest and most importantly, enjoy. In a way, it shouldn’t become a pleasant listen due to the nature of the stories it depicts. Even so, it’s a really moody one, the way every other Xiu Xiu album turns out to be these days. Taking risks is appreciated though.

In spite of its occasional eccentricities, shapeless is daine’s most accessible project yet.

The league Big|Brave are continuously uncovering is one of their own: not explicitly inviting, but altogether demanding and utterly rewarding.

Cracker Island is a perfectly good album made for an active audience larger and more diverse than most artistz could ever dream of having.

It's really cool on paper, a showcase of obvious and enormous talent with an extensive feature list that manages to satiate fans’ long-awaited fantasies while still giving them opportunities to explore new discographies. yet somehow it still ends up much smaller than the sum of its parts, particularly the main star.

Sometimes captivating, always soothingly pleasant, The Land, The Water, The Sky is an accessible effort which should appeal to a wide audience.

That dichotomy between the visceral and the lackadaisical defines This Is Why instead of its value as a snapshot of this decade's global chaos, and in that sense, this LP is neither their best nor their "most mature." Regardless, there's nothing to stop you from reveling in this album's own chaotic dynamics, seriousness and passiveness juxtaposed. It's a worthy if mildly disappointing addition to Paramore's canon.

Young Fathers don't owe us anything except themselves, which Heavy Heavy feels like a true and warmly sincere extension of, a hand extended from the light across the dark, if we're willing to let go and take it.

Wide-ranging and full of thoughtful lyricism focused on the passage of time, life, and death, This Stupid World is exactly the album I’d hoped Yo La Tengo could and would release in 2023. Even if this record remains a step below the band’s defining releases, it’s a strong contender for their best outing in over two decades.

The Men have given up on trying any sort of innovation here, and instead seem to have set out to simply jam some rockin’ tunes at high volume. Call me a simple man, but yeah, it’s pretty great.

Let's Start Here. is messy, ridiculous, admirable in its ambition and absolutely insane in its execution. If the albums you love are loved because you get tangled in the weeds with them, be absolutely baffled by them and come out wondering what the hell you liked about them, time to go in for another spin to find out? Then, hop up on the ride and keep those damn questions to yourself.

This thing is a beast. If nothing more, We Cater to Cowards has convinced me that I need more of this kind of noisy bullsh*t in my life. After wading through all this thick sludge, at least two showers will be necessary, but I’m in no rush; I’d almost forgotten how much fun it can be to play in the dirt.

This is a fantastic record, both sophisticated and personable, and one that I suspect will be well-loved by a niche audience. If the album’s description here intrigues you at all, Complete Mountain Almanac’s emergence is not to be missed.

There are plenty of immediately-engrossing moments, like the dramatic vocal narration of “The Stars Will Leave Their Stage” or the rousing solo in “A Thousand Lives”, but mostly what I return for is the sense of development within songs and from one track to another. This is an album which manages to cover a lot of territory in under fifty minutes, even if the brief intro and outro tracks don’t feel fully fleshed out (my largest criticism).

The band are at their best in short, sharp, concentrated bursts of euphoria, which Late Developers delivers in spades. More importantly, they finally seem to have recognised that it's not impossible to balance their slyly wandering spirits with their wryly written pop sensibilities to rediscover themselves at their very best.

CHAOS NOW*? Boasting highly energetic rap/hip-hop, acoustically-driven indie-rock, grunge with stadium-sized riffs, and melodic hooks that will invade your mind for days, CHAOS NOW* seemingly has it all. Despite sounding as though it could be too eclectic for its own good, Dawson seamlessly integrates all of these styles into something dynamic and insanely fun.

It's a worthy follow-up to Sometimes I Might Be Introvert, trading that album's shimmering polish and clear curation for a looser, more raw aesthetic.

For better or worse, there’s nothing new or surprising about Disturbed’s eighth release. On Divisive, the band don’t step outside their comfort zone, they don’t add any new elements, they don’t push the envelope on their established formula, they’re just Disturbed – but they’re Disturbed from their classic era, which is better than nothing.

Mieke has undoubtedly struck gold with her sophomore album, notching a significant improvement from her already-respectable debut.

Past Lives isn't exactly full of surprises, but it doesn't need to be to succeed as a mission statement for a new band who seem to be around to stay, if rumours of new material brewing are any indication. Every member of L.S. Dunes is in their element even after respective years of being legends in the genre.

It goes from caustically smart presented social observations to absurd, childish rants, while keeping you dancing. I’m glad Viagra Boys found their niche without losing any of their edge.

The Art of Survival picks up where The Kingdom left off, but it doubles down on the sludgy, heavier, direction of its predecessor while dumping most the alt rock influences. What’s more, in this era where heavy music is the norm, Bush almost sounds fresh because there’s very few artists blending grungy heaviness with a more accessible songwriting formula.

In These Times is an alluring listen because it is multi-faceted and fun.

A few quibbles aside, this is a rock-solid debut and it’ll be interesting to see where these women take their music next.

The Car is crackling with a wickedly fun energy underneath the surface of its mid-tempo mugging, if you're willing to take the commute and meet it halfway.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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].

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.