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.

There is a pleasing directness of intention to the metronomic drumming and the arpeggiated keyboards that would be sufficient to keep a crowd dancing but look beyond the surface level and there is unfortunately plenty to make you cringe, too.

For the year's most contagious artist, Fetty Wap's debut formula reads as follows: 20 songs x 4 billboard singles - 90% filler ÷ 1 melody = 1738. And somehow, that doesn't add up.

A pleasant, but ultimately unspectacular adventure.

Mr. Davis seems to pull in every direction at once. Gucci himself, despite the attempted show of a triumphant album, largely seems to feel somber.

Perhaps the reason for the feeling of emptiness at the well-meaning heart of No One is Lost is in its striking over-familiarity.

The Òran Mór Session is for Twilight Sad completists only. If you loved the originals, you'll probably enjoy hearing them in a slightly different style. Just don't expect worlds to shake.

This record’s three parts, separated by the gender of the narrator and little else, are muscular, repetitive, exhausting pieces of psych-math riffs that hardly let up. They make me feel like I’m stuck on an endless dancefloor, forced to nod my head into eternity.

While Double or Nothing isn't entirely a miss, it certainly represents a downwards move for Metro Boomin. It makes sense that he'd seek bigger names to experiment with, but the choice of Big Sean was Hallmark safe.

Longtime fans of the band will not find a rebirth in Critical Evaluation but you made find an upbeat improvement on recent efforts.

The success of Emotion and its predecessor, Kiss, was a product of balance. ... Side B does not find that balance, and is most instructive in the ways it illuminates her process. It lets us peek in on the misfits that are the product of every pop album, and hints at the unsexy labor of music-making.

Long time fans of Nadler’s work won’t be disappointed, but overall For My Crimes feels like a bit of a missed opportunity. She may sing about throwing keys, but the reality is this album won’t be taking anyone’s eye out anytime soon.

Doko Mien indeed falls short of the bands body of work but that doesn’t mean that every song on its own has something to offer. For the most part the group is still never derivative as their own unique spin is still apparent on every track. For the most part it is just too subtle to be noticed.

God’s Favorite Customer isn’t a bad album, yet it still feels like the weak link in the grand scheme of things. Fans of his previous work will still get a lot out of Misty's latest, but despite its subject matter, this album feels a little safe and inconsequential.

He and his brother have made an album that’s too impersonal to provide an actual emotional connection but also lacking the vision necessary to provide something out of this world.

It has interesting moments and one cannot really fault Kozelek for looking to present a different narrative than his previous record. But there is no denying that Benji set a high bar and this record borrows elements from it, but does so with disappointing results.

What made M83 so great was its inclination to look forward as well as backward. Unfortunately, DSVII —like Junk— looks backward without bringing anything new to the table.

Heads Up feels like an album bound to be forgotten.

The majority of the track list is made up of songs that run far too long, have beyond cringe worthy concepts and lyrics (see: the attempt at love struck club banger, complete with Beyoncé, on 'Hymn For The Weekend') or simply sound too unoriginal to stand out from the others.

Awake is a very environmental album, but not a particularly emotional one.

This has infinitely more charm than Kane, albeit with a very familiar love of a predictable lyrical couplet.

Their third album, Until Silence, is a pleasant listen, but falls at a couple of key moments.

If you've already heard 2002's tenth-anniversary reissue of the group's debut album, Slanted and Enchanted, then you've already heard everything compiled here.

Communion may be the end result of years of refinement, but you can't help but feel it was reached on someone else's terms.

LANY is certainly listenable and its hour run-time isn’t a total drag (grating voicemail interlude ‘Parents’ notwithstanding). There’s just a deficit of substance in an album that practically seems to be begging for you to feel something.

There was a sense of duty in pressing play on Luminous rather than an organic excitement or desire.

We know what these artists can do separately. We've even had a glimpse of what they can do together, and when held up to that (and I'm not going to pretend it doesn't hurt me to say this) Do It Again just doesn't stand up.

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.