Longtime fans will know what to expect from the indie-rock band that’s been releasing records since the mid-aughts, but predictability isn’t always a fault. The Brit rockers fully understand what they excel at, and they take advantage of the syncopated brashness that they best exemplify.

When I Get Home is universal because of Solange’s deep respect for her own home. The way she switches beats and flows constantly surprises, even on a tenth listen, unraveling new riches each time. Solange’s latest mystifies and stuns, leaving you awestruck as she cements her legacy as a true generational voice.

Sky Blue isn’t the Van Zandt record that’ll turn new fans on to his genius. It’s the type of compilation that’ll help his longtime listeners better understand the many shades of that talent.

Even though Hozier doesn’t bring anything immensely innovative to the album, Wasteland, Baby! is still a delightful experience that radiates with feeling.

Of course, The Black Album is not completely void of redeeming qualities, and there will likely be many listeners who are pleased with what they hear at times. Those listeners, however, may not be those who fell in love with the version of Weezer that existed in the middle of the ‘90s. Instead, the listeners within that sector may feel something comparable to watching a good friend make a bad decision.

The Florida rapper’s limited strengths and many weaknesses become highly detectable on Harverd Dropout. Under Pump’s control, the album piles up songs without structure, lines without meaning, and hooks without melody; it’s utterly tasteless.

Offset splits his time between personal stories and generalized trapping, with mixed results. When he finds the right flow, few can match him for sheer musical joy. Other times he sound flat and stale. ... You have to respect the work ethic that produced these 16 tracks, even if many of them don’t merit a second listen.

The album flow is really smooth, as focused and catchy tracks like “Paralyzed” co-exist well with songs that take longer to unfold and have lengthier progressive sections, such as “Fall Into the Light” and “Pale Blue Dot”. The musicianship is flawless.

She uses the body and the spaces it consumes and shrinks within as a driving theme throughout Crushing, uncovering the journeys her own body has taken as a romantic partner, a friend, a woman, and a world-touring musician.

Lyrics have never been the strongest part of either of their music, and this is no exception. But there’s enough skill and joy in this music to make the listening worthwhile, even if Lennon and Claypool can sound at times like the cranky, old uncles of psychedelic rock.

At only nine tracks, Methyl Ethel has no time for filler, so they make a statement whenever they can. During the first listen, you may pick up on some of their faults, but multiple visits can expose you to all their hidden treasures.

Of course, the album is a highly polished product and not some diary page. But it feels lived in, truthful, authentic.

Over the course of its 12 tracks, the record manages to redeem the spotty moments of the band’s comeback record, remind listeners of the endurance of the hits that came before, and, in Whang’s increased vocal role, even hint at some potential evolutions to come. Most importantly, it gives us the best picture yet of a live act that’s always been surprisingly difficult to commit to tape.

The lyrics paint a picture of discomfort and restlessness, which grows over the course of the album into a fully formed portrait of personal strength, creativity, and hard-eyed refusal in the face of the harassment of time.

Some fresh attention on Gentry’s short but blazing career with the help of Mercury Rev and their co-conspirators here is a welcome development. That notion alone helps ease the minor disappointments that this well-meaning tribute serves up and elevates the best work on Delta Sweete Revisited even higher.

Pratt astutely portrays the hole that grows during a profound loss, the questions that emerge that can’t be answered. Quiet Signs offers solace in place of definitive resolution as it drifts by, able to capture so much with so little at play.

For a moment of respite, a calming breath against the rush of modern life, Buoys is a fine balm in spite of its shortcomings.

The central conceit of the album is one of growing up. This comes through on a track-by-track basis, like on “All Blacked Out”, an older, folksy demo expanded in its new form into something much richer. But it’s also a sweeping feeling that the arc of the album as a whole supports, as it travels from gritty early tracks like “Lucy’s” and “Pretty”--a lovely, economical introduction to the band’s style--toward more exploratory ventures, like “What Chaos Is Imaginary” and the adventurous development of “Swamp and Bay”.

It’s like live band karaoke, and everyone is invited, which is all this really boils down to at the end of the day. They’re not reinventing the wheel; they’re using it.

More a revitalizing burst of energy than a passing of the torch, Better Oblivion Community Center frequently finds Bridgers and Oberst bringing out the best of each other.

FIDLAR have always been creatively bold, and their dabbling with musical variety is merely an extension of that. Making a starkly different-sounding record is a creative gamble, but FIDLAR rolled their dice and made off well.

In U2 terms,That’s the Spirit was BMTH’s Achtung Baby, where they introduced a new sound, and amo is their Zooropa, where they’ve taken that sonic evolution one step further.

Across 11 tracks, the band keeps listeners engaged thanks to a spread of bluesy rock. Electric rhythms intertwine with warm vocals and glowing melodies throughout Feral Roots, making for an experience where listeners will find something different to enjoy in each track.

A 20-track album is a lot. But with The WIZRD, one can barely feel it because of the smooth flow from track to track. Even the few misses don’t disrupt the rhythm of the project.

This isn’t so much an evolution, but a complete restructuring of Van Etten’s sound. It’s her OK Computer if you want to get frank.

Even with a finale that slightly underwhelms, Assume Form is a remarkable achievement by one of the most original songwriters of his generation. Blake hasn’t lost his love of percussion, and his gift for melody seems without limit. This is Blake at his most focused, stripped of electronic frills, and down to his emotional underwear.

Though less immediate, Why Hasn’t Everything Already Disappeared? still bristles with the spirit that makes Deerhunter’s work mystifying. Along with Fading Frontier, the album presents a new era for Deerhunter, one more contemplative and spacious yet continually beguiling.

It’s clear that Rogers took her time to create a project that encompassed her journey thus far and is bursting with energy and daring you to dance. More so, she doesn’t stray from slower, emotional ballads like “Past Life”, a track that bears a resounding similarity to early Stevie Nicks, proving the duality of her craft. If anything, this record is a formal announcement: Maggie Rogers is here to stay.