All in all, HiiDE presents a diverse enough collection so as to be difficult to describe in the brief, simple terms of this review. Nonetheless, it represents a cohesive, intriguing debut album that foreshadows a tantalizing, unpredictable future for BABii. We'd all be wise to stay tuned.

This is a decent body of work which would actually work well as an introduction to the band for those yet to encounter METZ’s noise to date.

It ultimately comes up short on tapping into the kind of emotional depth needed to resonate beyond feeling like those brief moments when we find ourselves experiencing a sudden case of deja vu before snapping back to reality.

There was a lot riding on this album to be a worthy successor to Piñata, and Gibbs and Madlib ended up with something that unfortunately doesn’t come close to those heights, but something that’s still worth thoughtful evaluation and plenty of discussion.

An Obelisk is not quite as statuesque as it wants to be, though it does demonstrate the band’s ethos in a tightly-wound package, and is a solid addition to a repertoire that continues to make a Titus Andronicus release unmissable.

Musically, Mannequin Pussy show off a new-found nuance and detailed understanding that backs up this intricate situation perfectly, spinning the threads of guitar so beautifully that you can mistake the song for romantic, before you’re knocked back to earth by the painful reality of the situation.

This is still dense music, yes, but crucially it never alienates over its epic 68 minutes: you can drop in on this record at any point and still find a good time. As such, I Was Real feels like the band’s most thorough examination of itself yet--and is all the more satisfying as a result.

Overall, this is an album packed with huge riffs and honest intent from a band who seemingly have a new lease of life.

To listen to this 69th Kicks is to enter Peggy Gou's home, kick your shoes off, and hear her very past and present, her very process. Sure, you'll end up dancing, but the couch is always there.

With Gold & Grey, Baizley and his cohorts have produced a monumental work of art that’s as dark and forbidding as it is bright and triumphant. It perfectly balances light and dark, revels in the creative possibilities of music-making, whilst plumbing emotional depths that might have you worrying a little for Baizley’s state of mind.

ANIMA isn't an overly kind record. It is, however, eternally honest.

The Age of Immunology honors a potentially fading ideal. Should it all come crashing down, it's hard to think of a more fitting, colorful, and ambitious tribute than the one Vanishing Twin have given us here.

Schlagenheim may possess some semblance of the aforementioned genres, alongside others like kraut and yes, even jazz, but pining for some rigid label is futile, because Schlagenheim is one of the most unique rock records released this year and maybe of the past five years.

Keepsake feels a bit more akin to a tentative step forward than a leap into the stratosphere, but for a debut it's stuffed with endless charm and promise.

Exiled is urgent and breathless from a band who need to be heard.

His fifth album is the most grown and mature.

He immediately introduces us to his new titular “Shepherd” persona, and continues to act like the consummate host to the listener throughout the record’s beautifully interwoven 20 tracks and 64 minutes.

Musically, Perfect Version isn’t flashy, but it sure is pretty. Chastity Belt records have a way of popping out at the listener with their shimmering melodies and catchy hooks, while this album is significantly more understated. But Shapiro’s hushed voice, delivered among reverberating guitars and atmospheric drones, invites the listener back for repeat listens.

If Springsteen’s characters aren’t all that multifaceted, they’re at least part of songs that are. ... When Springsteen cuts into his characters’ pain is when Western Stars stands out as one of his best late-period works.

The brevity of Lust For Youth is an issue, particularly as the eight songs fail to fully bond together, so the end result is a little too disjointed and the album overall suffers from a lack of flow, immediacy and purposeful direction. There are some good tunes here, of that there is no doubt, but it feels a little flat as a body of work.

These songs don’t live nicely in any genre, and suffer under the weight of attempting cross-pollination.

Younghusband's new record shows the band can turn out a great sounding bunch of songs and the odd moment of brilliance. If they spent longer letting their songs grow before unleashing them they might have produced something more distinctive.

While Midnight is, overall, a somewhat flawed record, it still shows impressive growth for Chura. Like Messes, it doesn’t settle into the oft-tread indie rock rut of bland, cliché emotionality, while the songwriting is clearly leagues ahead of her debut.

This dedicated honesty that she exorcises in her songs cuts both ways; as undying devotion to friends, yet callous dismissiveness towards herself. This leads to a disconcerting but utterly magnetic outing on third full length Black Friday.

With clear intent, Omoiyari is a strong example of that rare moment when a musician finds their true stride later in their career. Kishi Bashi has offered up a truly essential statement.

Boat is a self-assured, mature body of work with a set of songs that sit beautifully together. The album has space to breathe, alter direction and progress over its duration.

A certain sadness does indeed pervade Margaret’s voice, but it never dominates her work. It reverberates against the beauty of her words.

On his frequently divine debut album, Hayden Thorpe may well be a new man, untethered from his band, adrift in space and time, yet safe in the hermetic seal of an intricately designed vessel, but the desire for human connection will seemingly always bring him out of his shell and back down to solid ground.