Smote Reverser has a strange sense of uncertainty. While Dwyer hasn’t veered away from his band’s unmistakable proggy garage rock sound, he doesn’t feel as invigorated as usual. The multiple flavors of Oh Sees are swirled together, and it ends up a bit diluted.

At Weddings doesn't allow itself to wallow. If anything, it's Tomberlin sharing with us her own form of catharsis, a collection of intimate and powerful songs that sift through life's more disappointing and challenging moments to find the beauty we sometimes overlook.

While Tangerine Reef inspires as a pseudo-political statement regarding the deteriorating environment at the hands of mankind, Animal Collective ultimately disappoints with this record--it’s yet another forgettable checkpoint within the band’s recent run.

It’s a solid debut that establishes Dizzy as a band to watch out for because, like their beats, they’re sure to linger.

Thank You For Today is uninspired but competent and honest, a laudable addendum to an unquantifiably meaningful legacy.

Mulberry Violence isn’t a letdown because it doesn’t live up to expectations of what a Trevor Powers album is supposed to sound like. It’s a letdown because an immensely talented and creative spirit is struggling to let his instincts speak for themselves.

Though it’s a record perspiring uncertainty and the fear of becoming stagnant, Be The Cowboy is Mitski’s most personal and confrontational thus far. It’s violently poignant and the mark of an artist who’s barely tapped into her singularity.

If you need a good dose of enthusiastic summer sunshine then Louis Cole has crafted a superb hideaway.

On Devotion, she cordons off her own corner of modern Rn’B with a statement destined to become a genre staple.

Pick things apart, and it’s a fine addition to the St. Louis band’s catalogue--there are several songs here that will catalyze their already electric live show.

It's fun music and nothing about it is haphazard or casually tossed off.

It’s refreshingly spur-of-the-moment on an album that’s let down by constant overthinking and underestimating of her abilities. If Minaj wants to make a mission statement of an album, worthy of this title, she needs to figure out a mission statement for herself.

In an album where everything seems to be allowed, at first it may feel uneasy to understand but dissecting the elements is the key to understanding Physical.

The shiny production helps to carve a gigantic wad out of what is already a pretty full live sound, with crunchy guitars and some impressively Animal-esque drumming from Ivan Luketina-Johnston.

Ultimately, Book of Life feels like a confident step forward for Fujita. It opens up his compositions to new sounds without sacrificing the core of what made his earlier records such an intriguing listen.

As a whole, Gulp’s new long player is a very pleasant experience from start to finish, and reminds you that Gruff Rhys is not the only member of SFA to have played a major part in delivering so many classics over the last near-three decades.

It’s an album that shows the past and the future of this artist, and it’s one that seems to have boundaries well beyond the usual fare that we hear from PC Music.

He doesn’t need to hop on the emo rap bandwagon and a more stoic presence is always welcome, but this feels like the first YG album that’s coasting on reputation rather than inspiration.

Qualm is her inauguration. Its agitated kineticism and flagrant oddness, blossoming from Hauff’s intrinsic charisma and craft, is exhilarating. It is techno gorgeously streamlined; straddling the fucking weird and the primally gratifying, as present in the grimiest tunnel raves as in soundtracking the imminent robot revolution.

If Astroworld suffers from any sin, it’s a nearly endless ambition.

Whatever headspace produced Swimming, it captures this perfectly.

Phantastic Ferniture’s chemistry, then, is convincingly smooth. Their new self-titled LP dashes through fields of warm riffs and detailed melodies, scooping up a bouquet of wildflowers whose imperfections only add to its beauty.

Khalifa’s persona isn’t nearly ready to hoist up what’s essentially a double album, and, yet, this is largely the most focused and invested he’s sounded since Taylor Allderdice.

Rather than fall in love with this record from the get-go it needs a little airing and breathing time to get to grips with the finer notes, but it's sure to keep you coming back.

The Switch isn’t anonymous or soulless, but it does have an unhuman aesthetic.

Yolk In The Fur proves Wild Pink as a band that proclaim a strength in authenticity that is matched by a growth in character.

Produced by Vu herself and boasting a lush and warm sound, it sets itself apart by striving to be something more ambitious and it shows in every little detail be it the sudden burst of bright brass soaring through breezy guitars on the gorgeous sway of '426' or the shimmering chords of 'Crying on the Subway'.

While Raw Silk Uncut Wood may alienate some in its distinctness from her back catalogue it finds a firm place in her ever-growing oeuvre.