The Psychedelic Furs don’t skip a beat bringing back everything that devotees adore amidst tapping into enough current techniques and mindsets to feel fresh. As such, they prove that a vintage band can still produce something so praiseworthy and pertinent that it surpasses the output of many newer stylistic siblings.

On folklore, Swift has come of age, emotionally and sonically, and proven herself — not that she needed to — as not only an exceptionally autonomous auteur but a nimble collaborator with an ever-broadening palate.

She is mourning and healing all at once here, and while at times it can feel a bit tedious, overall she’s delivered one solid collection of songs.

The management of tone throughout is also masterful and consistent. For all the shifting that occurs within individual songs, it’s always anchored to place by restrained instrumentation and artful, deliberate counterpoints between highs and lows.

The ability to successfully engage with a number of different styles and tones, pen lyrics that are both incredibly vulnerable and smartly robust, and frame it all within their own unique zeal makes Hate for Sale a worthy and welcome addition into the band’s historic discography.

Shoot for the Stars, Aim for the Moon neither blights nor burnishes Pop Smoke’s legacy. It’s fine. Better to remember Smoke as the dark-horse MVP candidate for summer 2019.

The torch songs here resist the urge to wallow, counterbalancing their regrets with mature calls for personal growth. The result is a slice of summer escapism with some weight to it and a worthy companion during isolation in all its forms.

Price created a country-rock record for both twentysomethings and their parents to listen to together. Despite at times feeling too true to form, there are breakout moments of Price’s fervor that illuminate the album as a whole, something we’ll hopefully see more of in the future.

By further broadening their scope of sound, HAIM create a wide window for listeners to find something of resonance within Women in Music Pt. III.

The exploration and craft put into Blythe’s lyrics, along with the stunning musicianship of each member, allows for an exhilarating work of pure heavy metal. This album isn’t just an awesome release from Lamb of God, but a perfect record to unite metalheads as one.

Dylan could use some editing here, for sure, but it’d be even better to let his band off their leashes and, like in the old juke joint featured on the album’s cover, close the windows and let it get hot in there.

While a handful of tracks (around the belly) don’t live up to their legend, hearing Homegrown after all these years rates as a fine gift for Young to leave to his legions of fans … and, hell, humanity.

Punisher is a dazzling record, one filled with sadness but not overwhelmingly so, full of moments that sting the first time you hear them but burrow deeper into the soul with each listen.

The complexity of Run the Jewels 4 is its strongest asset. Killer Mike and El-P, just like their listeners, are still trying to navigate nefarious ideologies while remaining steadfast in their desire to destroy them. Their latest work is a political manifesto that antagonizes a system that never had the marginalized and vulnerable in mind. Though it comes several albums into their discography, RTJ4, with its empowering proclamations, buoyant production, and ferocious soundscapes, feels like just the beginning of something even greater.

Most of these songs are an extension of the excitement and novelty that he’s not only bringing to the Latin market, but to the music world at large.

As a lot of Lady Gaga’s work has done in the past, it offers up some honest-to-God bangers side by side with some honest-to-oneself reckonings with trauma, pain, addiction, and the very idea of what it means to be flawed and how this idea shifts depending on who’s defining it.

Perhaps the B-sides are not all as special as what Jepsen chose for her official album, but she saved them and released them with her fans in mind. All along, she was most dedicated to them.

Notes seethes with paranoia, charges of revolution, and, above all, honesty, providing a semblance of comfort during a, drum roll please, “unprecedented time” that truly affects everyone.

Paradise Lost have found an almost ideal balance between grit, atmosphere and songcraft. What Obsidian lacks in lyrical subtlety or song variety, it makes up for with sonic depth and sheer catchiness. ... Paradise Lost float above the fray, synthesizing aggression and accessibility in every song. It’s hardly a new trick for these Brits, but that they’ve made it par for the course makes their career all the more remarkable.

Present and post-lockdown, how i’m feeling now will be a definitive album of its time. Aitchison has captured this space we now all exist in and all its facets.

Williams sounds here like she’s singing about something else, something more her own. The assorted focuses of these songs sound like they’re being relayed less as rallying cries and more as personal thoughts and confessions to a close friend or a lover. The result is a fitting solo debut, a solid album full of friction and honesty.

An interesting bunt that adds color and flavor to an intriguing sound, Making a Door Less Open is a classic transitional album, which they may double back from and they may double down on; frankly, either result will be more exciting.

SAWAYAMA appears poised to be one of the best pop albums of the year and sets Sawayama up as a pop force to be reckoned with.

Bolt Cutters delivers a much-needed auditory exercise for the sequestered masses and surely one of the best albums to grace us in 2020. Eight long years later, Fiona Apple proves her return was worth every second in waiting.

Even with its inevitable blemishes, The New Abnormal is easily the freshest, most interesting album that The Strokes have released in more than a decade. While the band haven’t proven to be the single-handed savior that rock music always seems to be searching for, they have made the case for taking a slow-burn approach to collaboration and creativity.

Saint Cloud offers us the best possible version of Crutchfield she could possibly give us. The record is made by someone who was always whispering, finally having the confidence and courage to speak up and sing unrestrained. It demands to be listened to.

While 20 tracks seems exhausting, to the contrary, he captures our attention throughout, especially with his clever zingers. His pen is sharper than the last time.

It’s hard to critique punk music. You’re judging exactly how much someone doesn’t give a fuck and how well they are at expressing that. High Risk Behaviour is an album you can blast on the highway while going 90 or one that you can watch live and get drunk and crowd-surf to.