As always, Crowell is in prime form, and the ten songs that make up the set list hold to the high standard he’s known for.

The concepts may be well worn and bordering on cliché, but the execution is generally fresh and inspired, proving that writing what you know never goes out of style.

Tweedy might be missing his band members, but the restless, resonant spirit that drives Wilco’s best records seeps winningly into WARM just the same.

The combination of Buddy’s husky rumble and Julie’s lighter but still incisive approach makes for an explosive vocal blend. There is no filler in these dozen tunes (over 50 were written, from which they chose the best) that remind us what we’ve missed in the decade since the couple last recorded together. It’s a continuation of a musical and personal partnership that’s entrancing, honest and one that makes for a mesmerizing listen.

This album demands the full attention of the listener, an old-school concept; those that put the most into it will get the most out of it. Dig in. It’s worth the effort.

Citizen Kane Jr. Blues finds Young back in a solo setting, and while some of the performances initially seem rather tentative, he comes through with unfailing effort and determination.

He zips past previous genre assumptions, ripping up any blueprint for how a blues album should sound on this daring and audacious release.

Womack and husband/producer Frank Liddell have collected 13 terrific songs that not only stand on their own, but reflect an older, more mature look at life when taken as an album.

The remastered audio captures each instrument with surprisingly sharp and clean separation which makes this sound better than what an exhausted, rain-soaked, mud covered audience experienced hearing it live.

There aren’t any catchy melodies, the song structures are loose, often amorphous with a stream of consciousness flow, and the muted ambiance of the 32 minute, live in the studio set isn’t for everyone. ... Lindeman and her band play music as if no one is around and the tapes aren’t running. That’s a difficult task, but one this album accomplishes with class and style and an honest intimacy impossible to dismiss.

By turns both heartbreaking and heroic, it boasts the signature sound of an artist whose music has always been soothing, seductive and immediately engaging. In this case, quality is matched by quantity, given the fact that the album boasts some 18 tracks (plus an added demo), each as winsome and wistful as the next.

The title says it all, giving an impression of wistful repose and a genuinely soothing serenity that’s become Villagers’ signature style. These Fever Dreams are well worth holding on to.

Where A Celebration of Endings excels most is not solely in its compiling of various sobering narratives with catchy or satisfyingly progressive songwriting.

While Mould’s never been a wallflower when it comes to expressing his aggression and rage, Blue Hearts — perhaps more than any of his other individual outings — recalls the fury of Hüsker Dü in both its intensity and aggression.

Progress may not be the right word for what The National achieves with Trouble Will Find Me, but sustained brilliance is a pretty good alternative.

As both a comeback and perhaps a farewell to recording, with Full Circle Lynn continues with the style, talent and class that have personified her lengthy, legendary career.

The production is clean and not overly slick but the memorable hooks with sweet harmonies come fast and often, resulting in a relatively subtle set that at just 30 minutes leaves you wanting more.

The backstory leading to Sorry is Gone may not be the type you’d wish on anyone, but in the hands of Jessica Lea Mayfield, it has resulted in compelling art.

Her eighth studio release flows with remarkable continuity. Notwithstanding the melancholy circumstances, Moorer is rocking out forcefully on chugging, swampy gems.

Consider Shadow Kingdom another opportunity to seize on a fabled legacy while reminding the world yet again that certain songs never go out of style.

Western Stars is erratic in the first half, as Springsteen’s need for exposition sometimes grinds uneasily against the sweep of the music. But the second half is a profound pleasure. ... It makes you wish that Springsteen could dash off an album full of such country songs. Until then, Western Stars will have to do, and it does just fine.

The only thing that the Immersion Edition is really missing is any extensive liner notes.

Last Man Standing isn’t just a terrific album made by a living legend with nothing left to prove; it’s one of the most joyous, insightful and understated sets from Willie Nelson, a guy who acts like his best years are still ahead and refuses to slow down now.

Not surprisingly, these songs float rather than soar as hints of organ, piano, and synthesizer augment the sparse sound without jarring the listener, lulled into Pratt’s ever so elusive world.

For those prepared to hunker down and get immersed in Angel Olsen’s laconic, often downbeat echoes on depressing life events many of us have experienced, it’s a startlingly uncompromising, if occasionally uncomfortable peek into her haunted dreams.

How much appeals to you will depend on your tastes, but it’s clear that all of the contributing musicians did this as a labor of love, something obvious from the honesty and quality of the performances.

On Eleven Eleven, Dave Alvin continues his transformation from journeyman musician to becoming one of the people he always idolized: the one of a kind bluesmen and storytellers, rock and rollers and poets, folk singers and road warriors whose influences he's absorbed since he was a kid growing up fast in Downey, California.

While the album is too long by at least four songs (Johnson has never been the best editor of his own material), he and his crew do well by Cochran.