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.

Hold On Baby certainly has its hits, and Straus’ star power is no less evident even when the music doesn’t measure up. While her sophomore record is somewhat of a slump, King Princess’ talent still reigns.

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.

There is no doubt that The Other Side of Make-Believe remains distinctly Interpol, and that is a good thing. Twenty years on from their debut, the band have endured, continuing to produce tight rhythms and shadowy urban soundscapes.

Electronics to the forefront and AI involvement in the lyrics, however miniscule; and yet, there’s a warmth and humanity here that’s hard to fake, the product of a band that refuses to stay still.

Flasher is back. Like seeing an old friend who has been gone for a while, there are many new things to discuss and a few to revisit.

Although the songwriting is intimate with the trio’s personal thoughts and feelings, the production and vocal choices sometimes are found lacking.

It’s a record that operates in extremes, with the highs ascending to ultra-catchy pop bliss and the lows exploring barren depths of depression. Each emotion and each moment is transient, leading seamlessly into the next in an overwhelming rush.

With an excellent set of musicians that ably back him over the course of these two albums, Graham Nash: Live finds Nash in fine voice as he brings new life to earlier work that is well worth a fresh listen.

The tracks are largely abstract with long periods of solely instrumental passages, but Hadreas’ artistic voice is evident throughout. If anything, the record demonstrates that his hunger for innovation and evolution still remain intact.

Strange proves on Farm to Table that in refusing to sit still long enough to be pigeonholed, he’s looking to heft a glass of something sweeter than what’s historically been on offer.

Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers is an incredibly ambitious, messy, heavy, daunting record.

The new record finds Olsen basking in new love and lost love, using her distinctive tone and quavering vibrato to great effect. Olsen leans country on Big Time, moving between lush slide guitars and piano ballads, singing of grief with a gentleness that exudes as much gratefulness as it does melancholy.