The piano-led “Drive Myself Home” at the album’s midpoint is perhaps the most obvious Suede sounding song on the record for those familiar with the band’s extensive back catalogue. But it’s towards the tail end of Autofiction when the record gathers momentum once more, particularly on “It’s Always the Quiet Ones”—which is reminiscent of Night Time-era Killing Joke—and closing couplet “What Am I Without You?” and “Turn Off Your Brain and Yell.”

Already one of indie rock’s tightest live bands, SPARK gives them a dozen more arrows for their quiver and maybe a chance for Ehrlich to get out from behind the drum kit and soothe our souls straight from the footlights.

How Do You Burn? is uneven though, sometimes clichéd, and there are stretches here more concerned with sound than with song, but with epic, textured production from Dulli and longtime collaborator Christopher Thorn, that’s partly understandable. The diamond may not always shine quite the way it used to, then, but it seems there’s plenty of black gold left in The Afghan Whigs.

Overall, the most appealing thing about Sons Of is that contains depths that are maybe not immediately apparent. It rewards repeated listens, and careful ones at that. Hopefully this duo collaboration is merely the first of many.

With When the Wind Forgets Your Name, Built to Spill prove they have the staying power to remain atop the indie rock heap.

It’s a good entry point for new listeners, as well as a charming and familiar set for those who have been on the ride all along.

“Hello, Hi” is, admittedly, a minor work on the Segall spectrum. He’s in “Led Zeppelin III mode” again—primarily acoustic and chilled-out, like Sleeper and Goodbye Bread before it. If you love the albums referenced, you will love this record too.

Brooks and Durkes (sounds like the money good makings of a bro-country duo) created 10 scintillating instrumental tracks, over which Vick composed lyrics and sings in a similar style to that of her own project. The alchemy of Vick's drolly spun couplets over the primarily synth-based tracks are what gives the project its own brand of "je ne sais quoi."

All of Us Flames feels like not only Furman’s most moving work yet, but also her most authentic portrait as an artist and a person.

In some respects Flood expects less of its listeners, laying much of its charm and sweet melodies on the surface, but it also begs to be discovered, re-discovered, and treasured by those who dare to dive deeper. Those who take that step will find a singular singer/songwriter talent, one whose sophomore effort manages to be just as rewarding as its predecessor, yet in a subtly different way.

Out of compassion, hopefully Jacklin has nothing but sunny days ahead. But her ability to rip out the listener’s heart and stomp it about a bit, on the dance floor or otherwise, will hopefully never leave her.

Your taste for this music will vary wildly, depending on your familiarity with of Montreal and/or your enjoyment of hyperactive, literate, and frankly wacky artistic expression. At the very least, it’s refreshing to see Barnes switching it up once more, and we’re curious to see where he’ll go next.

They are a restless band, yes, but Life Is Yours proves that a narrower focus can bring the most returns.

Most importantly, it doesn’t seem like Hibberd is aiming to be the next Avril Lavigne, or Weezer, or Green Day. Rather she’s on her way to staking out her own voice in the world of pop rock. She may still be writing tunes on Garageband in her bedroom, but these songs are built for big stages.

This is an album (her ninth overall including two self-released ones and fifth on her longtime label No Quarter) from a singer/songwriter at the top of her game.

Surprisingly, for an album that spends most of the span of its 15 tracks considering mortality, it’s never maudlin and rarely as cynical as his earlier work. More often it’s self-effacing, celebratory and, even in its darkest moments, oddly comforting.

Deceptive in its superficial simplicity, Heartmind is an album that demands, then requites, love and attention. It’s at times evasive, often ambiguous, always sophisticated, and never much less than compelling. For those willing to dedicate their time to exploring its shadowy riches, it’s a gratifying if elusory pleasure.

It’s evident that the producer-rapper duo complement each other’s work and by featuring other artists, elevate the rappers around them. Because of this, Cheat Codes isn’t just an album for old hip-hop heads – it’s a timeless record that celebrates all artists.

The results can be overwhelming and unrestrained, but they also capture a freewheeling euphoric high that is undeniable. Even if you may want to enjoy it in moderation, the band’s universalist vision of indie pop has a little something for everyone.

The songs themselves don’t stand up to his best acoustic work. It’s not a bad album by any means, but it’s also rarely exceptional, and therefore, not very memorable.

An immensely gentle album that needs to be taken as a whole, tracks with titles like “Duet for Guitar and Rain” or “Bells Pt.’s 1, 2, and 3” deliver on their descriptions as tender transitions between Sprague’s clear headed observations.

With Surrender, Rogers has refused to do just that, defying the pull of monotony and cliché, crafting instead her masterpiece.

We have a set strongly influenced by the more experimental side of “post-punk” as well as noise, power electronics, and early industrial music (think Throbbing Gristle or early Cabaret Voltaire).

Toast is an invocation of impending loss so powerful and relatable as to be, at times, unbearable. That Young with Crazy Horse are able to create sublime songs from this ruinous situation is a feat unto itself; that Young only felt safe to release them 20 years after they were made is an indictment of just how ruthlessly personal and genuinely affecting they are.

Household Name manages to be both bold and wary—capturing the kinetic anxiety that arises when a protracted daydream seeps into your everyday.

With Sound of the Morning Pearson has conjured and fine-tuned a far more confident, almost irresistible song set.

On their eighth album, Formentera, they sound as vital as ever, with the creative nucleus of Emily Haines and James Shaw once more pushing the possibilities of what Metric are.

While the weaker moments can leave Beatopia a bit messy or overstuffed, there is nonetheless a special charm to Kristi’s simple songwriting. For a promising songwriter who felt like she has been searching for her creative niche, it is her most distinctive effort yet and also sports her most infectious set of tracks.