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.

While Elemental isn't quite on par with their earlier material (more than a few tracks here are simply nothing more than feedback loops, as if the group were deliberately trying to sound scary instead of just simply being scary), as a whole package it's still a genuinely disturbing yet fascinating experience from two men truly caught up in a dialogue that only they seem to be able to hear.

In its most proficient moments, Older is heartbreaking, raw, confessional, melodically ethereal, and outright fun in flashes. These moments definitely outnumber the record’s more unfocused offerings.

Home Video is a vibrant, unsparing celebration of life's many chapters and what it means to be human: flaws, doubts and all.

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.

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.

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.

Even if Strange Mercy is like a blender with its top blown off, it's undeniable how convincing St. Vincent has become.

An hour of ambitious song structures, disparate vocal and instrumental performances, and lyrical esoterica concerning Houston, tied together by Travis Scott’s affection for autotune and lowest common denominator rhymes and flows. Which isn’t particularly characteristic of a great rapper, but is more or less the ingredients of great music.

There's some very remarkable playing and composing found throughout The Vigil, and because of the diverse range of sounds and styles that the album chooses to work with, there's something for every jazz fan to mull over.

Dropping some fresh experiments as always, we are left to discover new bits every year. This is one of their best records so far and an easy contender for album of the year in the genre’s category.

Years from now I’m sure we’ll still be returning to Lost in the Dream as The War on Drugs’ indelible classic, but that doesn’t mean that I Don’t Live Here Anymore won’t possess its own well-deserved audience.

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.

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.

At its dizzying zenith, Beyoncé is a loaded fusion of generosity and self-empowerment. or perhaps, more accurately, it finds self-empowerment in generosity.

For all the razzle-dazzle of its surprise release, I’m struck by hard it is to draw a lasting overall impression from the record. It adds little to the reinvention established by Folklore and doesn’t deepen her work within this sound in particularly convincing terms. I want to credit her at least for keeping up an industrious streak, but this alone would seem patronising.

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.

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.

On the Line as a whole never feels manufactured, or, really, like anything less than Lewis telling it to you straight.

Mirror Reaper is a challenging album to listen to on multiple fronts. On the one hand, it is oppressive and deep music, wrought with heavy themes and even heavier aesthetics. On the other hand, it challenges the listener's patience with overcooked ideas that threaten to spoil what is otherwise an immaculately produced record.

It is both gorgeous and fearsome, and one couldn't ask for anything more.

Few albums can make such bold statements without seeming heavy-handed, but Jacklin’s sophomore effort feels as natural as the words rolling off her tongue.

It’s Marissa Nadler’s most ambitious undertaking from a lyrical perspective, but she pulls it off brilliantly while simultaneously delivering an album that sounds so lush, sweeping, and powerful that all of the subtle, intricate melodies are merely the cherry on top.

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

On The Living Infinite, Soilwork have simultaneously stepped back to their past while maintaining their current sound, but they have also diversified their formula more than ever before--and they did so without a single filler track.

Any Human Friend cements Hackman as one of the most intriguing figures in indie-pop/rock, if not for her lyrical antics then for her ability to constantly reinvent her music.

This is very lush, star-lit country music that is practically breathtaking in the moment while transcending the typical boundaries of the genre. It's about time.

On Little Oblivions, she's taken the spaces in her music that used to be empty and filled them with churning, beautiful noise.