All At Once suggests, in both form and content, that the human tragedies we keep dipping into can be healed by listening. Its you’s and I’s relate to each other, struggle toward dialogue. Even in rankled romance, listening is vital, probably even more so. The songs and styles wheel freely, matching their subjects.

Way Out Weather is a sonically dense record--Gunn’s de facto opus by breadth and scope--but lyrically it is impersonal, preoccupied by small pleasures and moments of private reflection that, while individually beautiful and poetic, do not suggest a self-aware attempt at making a masterpiece.

13 Moons is a celebration of fading detail, a reminder that we’ll only ever continue to forget.

What’s revealed by this new project--call it an album, EP, compilation, mixtape, outtake, sketch--is a fiercely independent artist escaping the trappings of hip-hop conventions, both mainstream and otherwise; he seeks ascetic salvation through intense introspection and, in the process, created a great release, no matter where it’s filed.

Poison Season is nothing if not willing to shrug off a few of Destroyer’s newest fans if that means staying true to what the band has done so well for the better part of two decades. More so than on Kaputt, all of the classic Destroyer motifs are on full display.

An incredibly compelling collection of inventive folk-tinged melodies.

Knock Knock is full of surprises, and Koze is floating, in a meditative stance, watching over your shoulder as you revel in its resplendent glory.

The songs here tend to go nowhere for a quiet couple of minutes before bursting randomly into tightly composed melodrama, which could be mistaken for actually going somewhere.

Envy certainly do their fair share of the legwork in making the split a success, but it’s the surprise of Thursday’s evolution that provides the richest reward.

All jokings aside, this record is downright GNARLY despite its hang-ups, impossible to wash from the soul and probably the thickest, grittiest substance you ever did see.

It's human connection despite the odds that has been at the heart of Bush's music from the beginning. With 50 Words for Snow, she casts the theme in a bolder and bleaker light than ever before.

A transcendent accomplishment.

The theatrical tricks -- and they are tricks -- are more interesting this time around. But by and large, it's more of the same.

Even though Glass has a lot of physicality to it, it’s gentle in the ways in which it fills our space with its presence. It’s a record one loops for the evening and unconsciously forgets about it, only to wonder what is missing when it stops playing.

Third is a carefully rewarding record with enough inspired turns to entertain throughout.

The biggest problem with Late Registration though is Kanye's verses; he's not a great MC, but he doesn't know it.

This album is easily taken as it is, a good side portrait of the parts of America that are somewhat still in the throes of modernity (if we all aren’t to some degree).

Equally informed by universal human crises as it is by contemporary imbroglios, the album aims to disorient, alienate, and dismay the listener. The band is usually able to do all three in a single song. Often in one line.

Stay Positive offers up plenty of reasons to let go and believe.

Even if her catalog was small, the 25 tracks on this set won’t likely leave anyone wanting.

At the end of the day, Bleach is still the weakest of the band’s full-length albums, but there’s enough good stuff to merit a spin.

All My Heroes Are Cornballs serves as an electronic manifesto for his fans, guerilla warfare of the auditory kind. Umberto Eco would be proud.

Every member of this band is wholly present and firing on all cylinders here.

Murs fails to gain any ground regarding his approach to rhyming and lyrical ingenuity. Yet, Murs 3:16 is far superior to The End of the Beginning, due to the tight and refreshing skills of producer 9th Wonder.

While Helplessness Blues is sparser and more restrained than its predecessor, it's also spotted by unexpected flourishes that are almost experimental by the band's traditionalist standard.

It's sucker punch after sucker punch of syllable-swapping fun.

The songs on Twin Cinema are simply of a higher caliber than anything the Pornos' individual members can create by themselves or had created together before.

Benji, Mark Kozelek’s sixth album as Sun Kil Moon, is as abrasive as Pharmakon, as hauntingly emotive as Dean Blunt, and as disorienting as Oneohtrix Point Never.