A Crow Looked at Me stands as a remarkable example of the restorative power of music, an intimate display of love, daring both in concept and execution.

Side B is the more adventurous half of the album, pushing Bad Bunny’s sound into new places with collaborations with alternative acts. ... With the sun-kissed Un Verano Sin Ti, Bad Bunny continues to proudly give pop music some much-needed flavor, swagger, and sounds by way of the Caribbean.

LZII could’ve used a live version or two to highlight the energy of the late ’60s--an era that remains especially mythical for those of us who weren’t there. As a two-disc set, though, this reissue is both a reminder of the original album’s wallop and a closer look at the alchemy of a band increasingly attuned to ideas of progression.

On “DNA.”, Kendrick slices himself down the middle, spills his guts, and mines the finer points of all of his moving parts over an 808-heavy production from Mike Will Made It. The combination may sound to purists like it should not work on paper, but it is absolute fire, and they reprise their magic again on “HUMBLE.” and “XXX.”, challenging rap’s own perceptions of itself and what value really boils down to from the Hot 100 to the underground.

Norman Fucking Rockwell! proves (again) Del Rey as a fully-realized artist who has remained true to her obsessions — aesthetic, cultural, and personal — outlasting the misogynist criticisms that could have derailed her early career. Del Rey delivers a gaze that swivels internally and externally, that can simultaneously observe our national existential dread and her own sudden hope for a “Hallmark” love.

The singing and melodies are massaged with a care unheard in the prior Drake discography; this album flows as improbably as The Life of Pablo, with more assured lyrics and smoother sequencing, to offset the lack of a certifiable genius at the helm.

It’s something special, just like it was always planned to be.

While all three women may continue on to even greater heights as individuals, the record offers something so much more than the sum of its parts. It’s a covenant between three soulmates, a trio of best friends ready to carry the torch for a new musical generation.

With Black Messiah, D’Angelo has silenced any doubters and re-confirmed his invitation as the heir apparent to the R&B throne, whether he continues to refuse the honor or not.

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

Using his remaining time, he’s not only putting his house in order, he’s tidying up ours too. You Want It Darker prepares us for his departure and, in turn, shows us how it’s done, so we have a road map--pockmarked by land mines as it is--in place when we reach that stage.

As he evolves, he continues to reinvent himself, and he knows exactly how to leave fans hooked on havoc. And After Hours is proof that he’s not done with us yet; in fact, he’s just getting started.

The interplay between Crutchfield and Lenderman’s voices makes the tunes all the more memorable, and his guitar work on tracks like “Evil Spawn” adds a certain bite to Waxahatchee’s sound that helps distinguish the record from its predecessor. It’s such subtle shifts that make Tigers Blood so remarkable.

The most fun PUP have ever sounded. ... For a band who claim to be “too old for teen angst, too young to be washed,” PUP have successfully found that balance.

Each of the album’s 10 songs are fully formed and smartly rendered, but “Young Blood” stands out as the most jaw-dropping.

Simply put, AC/DC went in and kicked out the proverbial jams, crafting their best album in years and igniting a spark of joy into the stark timeline that is 2020.

They’ve boiled their process down to its essentials, and No Cities to Love crams genius lyrics and hook after inescapable hook into just 10 tracks and 33 minutes.

For 44 minutes, Mann slips into the skin of someone walking an emotional tightrope, and it’s an act she pulls of with grace and conviction.

The 1975 don’t presume to have all the answers, but their sincerity and vulnerability make for a tremendous record that speaks to the state we live in. It’s their best work yet.

In Conflict is ominous, gloomy, and marked with some of the most playful arrangements Pallett’s laid to date.

An album like RTJ2 is rare. Decades from now, this album may just be revered as one of the best hip-hop records of our era, the total synchronicity of two talented artists reaching the apex of their prime.

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.

With the stunning Burn Your Fire For No Witness, she deftly captures the terrifying dread of being in limbo, stuck in the sludge of a transitional period. But even with the existential doubt, the loneliness, and the angst, there’s still a resilient beacon of hope.

Negro Swan is a grand work that gives credit to the pioneers of the culture while building a path forward within that framework, placing Hynes firmly in the canon as one of the most insightful musicians of his generation.

As with anyone complaining of love lost between pleas for it to return, it begins to become tiresome — no matter how smooth your voice may be. But Blake manages to make a whopping 17-song album transition seamlessly, holding your attention thanks to a careful execution of space between those very keys.

After sees her returning, confidently, to her role as a modern-day pop experimentalist.

Goon vocalizes a timelessness through the mouth of a man playing simply to start over, earnest as he’ll ever be--and getting to hear it from inside the practice room, not outside the door, makes all the difference.

It’s Redcar’s most challenging album yet, in which he addresses an entity that could be either himself, or a lover; the production still leans heavily into the delicate, baroque synth-pop and irresistible melodies he has become so lauded for, but the emphasis remains on Redcar’s vocal delivery and texturally succulent lyrics.

With High Crimes, The Damned Things arrive at a truly unique blend of styles. They also marry heaviness and melody without sacrificing the punch or attack of the music, providing a refreshing new twist on heavy rock that came straight from left field.

The songs on Crash may be about self-destruction and sabotage, but the intoxicating brightness and power of them suggests that her journey of self-discovery deserves to be a celebration rather than a cautionary tale.

Infinite Granite is a stunning journey from beginning to end, as Deafheaven continue to refine, develop, and even experiment with their identity. Undoubtedly, it contains some of their boldest and most heavenly material to date, and it peppers in just enough heaviness to embody the other side of their sound.

Iridescence is full-to-bursting; it’s like almost eating too much food, almost drinking too much booze; it’s getting close to too much, and still asking for more.

While the individual songs have peaks and purpose, the album winds up functioning on the same level.

It’s a grief we hope to avoid and yet a grief we can’t help tasting. Saba makes it near impossible to turn away.

Entering Heaven Alive, along with Fear Of The Dawn, stands as a shining reminder of what White can accomplish when you hand him a guitar. ... Entering Heaven Alive now reminds us of his range, his playfulness, and his deep understanding of the music that inspires him.

Born Against is a triumphant collection of tracks from one of modern music’s most gifted storytellers.

Expectations were exceedingly high for Grief’s Infernal Flower, and Windhand delivered a minor masterpiece and the best doom metal album of the year.

Are We There functions best as the portrait of an artist coming into her own, while hopefully putting some of her demons to rest.

While not a perfect album, Renaissance is pretty damn close. It’s infectious and not overbearing, elegant, but not shallow.

From beginning to end, Bandana is a perfectly-paced album. Madlib never lingers on a single musical idea as he chops samples and switches beats, often midway through songs. Meanwhile, Gibbs, an expert in flows and rhythms, glues each song together with his undaunted, straightforward performances, which offer an illusion of effortlessness.

This is music that also stands on its own, a work by turns eerie and sparse, but also tinged in the warm nostalgia of bike rides at dusk and the loyalty of friends.

The album could stand to be 10 minutes shorter, but who’s to complain about having too much of a good thing? Recorded pre-pandemic, the joy and enthusiasm of the reunion tour is captured here and the results are immensely entertaining. If you like thrash, then the Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny Demo is mandatory listening.

On record or in concert, Deacon offers escapism at its finest.

It’s a chugging, nimble-footed affair, showing a matured and restrained group; no more eight-minute-plus pounding, slashing jams, replaced instead with a sense of clarity and focus, a driving, raw sonic thesis statement.

After Visions, the only thing Grimes could do was to grow as big as the landscape around her. Here’s her mountain.

For fans who were sucked in during the time of “Dynamite” or “Butter” and haven’t dug into their back catalogue just yet, they might be surprised to discover just how broad of a range these songs can stretch. ... Disc 3 is a whole different kind of time capsule: there are 11 unreleased demos, two brand new tracks (“Quotation Mark” and “For Youth”), and one previously-shelved track (“Young Love”) that peel back the curtain on BTS as artists like never before.

Listeners will still delight in how The War on Drugs can filter recognizable elements — the beats, the riffs, the spirit of artists like Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Born in the U.S.A. Springsteen, and even Bryan Adams — into something fresh and grand.

American Head stands alongside The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots as one of the very best records The Flaming Lips have recorded and should be required listening for anyone who’s gone on their own quarantine-induced walk down memory lane in search of a way to survive this year.

Everything Will Be Alright in the End doesn’t just transport us to Weezer’s younger days--it ushers us into their future. And for the first time in a while, it’s looking pretty bright.

Incredibly tight, flashy and evidently abhorrent in its messaging — we’re all doomed, but at least Lamb of God make it sound good.

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.

While she hasn’t quite inherited the pop monarchy from Swift and the other elites, Eilish’s debut makes a strong case that it won’t be long until we see her in a crown.

They’ve returned with an album that feels far from the all-encompassing anxiety of their previous records, prioritizing the unity and spirit that all four members feel for each other. ... Sometimes, it’s enough to peel back the layers of old paint and put on a fresh coat. The colors may be a bit jumbled at a first glance, but when you take a step back, they’re vivid, pleasant, magnetic.

For so long, ANOHNI had felt like a supernatural force, of this world but able to see a thread of love and hope through all the sadness. By expressing the grimmest realities, that thread becomes harder and harder to find. But ANOHNI’s music makes that struggle all the more powerful.

Earthling plants itself firmly in this moment, a trial-and-error soundtrack to one man’s maturation.

This is easily Sun Kil Moon’s most demanding album, with song structures that match the ballsy tangentiality of the lyrics.

The River Collection isn’t a glimpse of what could have been--it’s raw proof that The River sessions produced too many good songs for one album (even a double album) to contain.

Overall, the production, musicianship, and songwriting are among the best of Manson’s career.

This album definitely draws from painful places, but comes out of its explorations is multifaceted, deeply considered, and above all full of kindness. The questions it asks — what does caring really look like, how do we show one another kindness when we’re angry, how do we show ourselves kindness when we’re upset or hurt or numb — are essential ones, and we’re lucky we have Parks to guide us through them here.

It’s arguably the most modern score he’s ever composed, cutting with a minimalistic edge that might make Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross blush. Even so, the score never loses that Carpenter charm, keeping a tight grip on its origins without sneezing from all the dust.

The Bitter Truth is reminiscent of the band’s older material but also entirely fresh. It does not feel like a band going through the motions.

For its lyrical and musical scope, Malibu brings to mind a number of excellent albums, ranging from Stevie Wonder’s Innervisions to, yes, Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly.

Fear Inoculum lives up to its daunting expectations with songs that showcase Tool in peak performance as musicians and compositional arrangers. For the diehard fan, there’s a lot to consume here. Likewise, the album offers little respite for the uninitiated; its accessibility comes in the form of its vastness and eerie psychedelia, not through hooks or common pop structures. This is deep prog-rock as only Tool can create it.

No Fear of Time is nine great songs filled with incredible rapping. The album is a logical follow-up to Black Star’s first album and shows some things are worth the wait. The game has changed a lot from ’98 to now; however, Kweli and Bey still stand alone because, like they did way back when, they refuse to compromise themselves or their time for anyone or anything.

Dream Widow could’ve easily been a charming but disposable bit of marketing for Studio 666, or a throwaway pastiche of several legendary death and thrash metal groups. Fortunately, it transcends both of those possibilities to be a genuinely great record. The musicianship is expectedly superb, but what’s most commendable is Grohl’s ability to shift his voice from familiar grittiness to full guttural hegemony.

Harry’s House was constructed board by board, and, ultimately, it’s a lovely place to spend time in. Styles is making the music he wants to make.

By and large, We got it from Here… has the classic Tribe sound: a warm and crisp confluence of East Coast hip-hop, jazz, and more, all mixed and mastered impeccably. While some aspects of the sound are dated, others feel fresh.

Turnstile have already built a devoted following with their previous releases and legendary high-energy live shows, but Glow On takes them to a new level. It’s a fearless album that doesn’t bow to genre conventions, establishing Turnstile as the present and future of rock music.

Capping one of the strongest years a rock band has had in a while, this stands as a crowning achievement, the perfect record to close out a tumultuous decade and lead into one where the damage may be irreversible. Two Hands asks what responsibility each of us have going into the next era, offering no clear answers.

The EP moves easily through different spheres of young love, young fame and young ambition, all of it audible through coruscating backgrounds and intense vocal deliveries that channel the high-running tensions of technicolor teenage drama.

An album that has WILLOW well and truly becoming a bonafide rockstar, refusing to be boxed into one singular genre — while seeing how far each one can take her. COPINGMECHANISM is WILLOW’s most personal — and, as may coincidence may have it, hardest — record to date.

On Isolation, she never sounds trapped in another era; she sounds free and inventive. And with nary a dud to be found among its 15 tracks, Isolation deserves a spot in the dance pop and neo-soul pantheons.

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.

It’s a powerful start to an album where power is par for the course.

Vulnicura is smooth and whole, even as its singer lies shattered.

On his new album, Big Fish Theory, Staples continues to perfect his brand of nuanced nihilism while exploring new sounds that should put the music industry on notice that the future is now.

Sling may not have the pop-centered style of Immunity, but it’s one that features Clairo’s impeccable ability to craft intimate, emotive songs. It’s a record that’s musically indebted to the past, but it’s done so in an adventurous, fascinating way.

Despite the lower volume, Bruce Springsteen sounds positively invigorated on Western Stars. With a new sonic palette and renewed focus on the LP as a means of writing short stories, it’s easily his best album of new material since 2007’s Magic.

Although it’s admittedly a patient listen, Warpaint plucks at a different petal each time through it in its entirety. It’s truly a triumph for a group of women whose colors are singular and run incredibly deep.

A Written Testimony is one hell of a promising effort that was well worth the wait. The skillset of Jay Electronica as both an MC and a producer is on full display.

Musgraves hits one high note after another on Golden Hour; her talent as a songwriter and melody-maker is second to none, and each song is thoughtful, well-formed, and a delightful experience on its own. Together, the tracks on Golden Hour add up to an honest, cohesive musical experience that will linger in your mind and heart long after the final notes have faded.

Remastered by Page himself, this is the best digital version of Physical Graffiti available and the definitive way to hear the album if you don’t own a turntable.

Embury took this record as an opportunity to redefine what the band’s sound can successfully encompass. Together with Greenway’s thought-provoking lyrics, Embury delivered a set of songs so good that they made the band’s recent victories seem conservative in retrospect. Even the bonus tracks course with vitality. In 2020, Napalm Death remain — to quote one their series of cover albums — leaders not followers.

Slowdive delivers nearly everything their fans desire in a return: familiarity, innovation, and vast atmospheres to get lost in.

Despite the fact that Stranger in the Alps ends with stories of prisoners, murderers, and arsonists, it’s a gentle, wistful, even mournful record that makes for an outstanding coming-out party for Bridgers and a haunting experience for the listener, with melodies and sentiments that linger, softly and poignantly, long after the music ends.

Gojira have delivered a brisk, eminently listenable record that expands on their melodic sensibilities without abandoning their experimental tendencies, environmentalist policies, and emotional potency.

This is music inspired by what you remember hearing as a kid from your parents’ and grandparents’ record collections, but it’s been made fresh and totally original again.

Fans hoping for a repeat of the accessibility and groove of the self-titled album or the spasticity and rawness of earlier albums might be disappointed, but You Won’t Get What You Want is a brave and excellent addition to Daughters’ discography.

Every track hits, and this album will certainly leave people clamoring for more.

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.

Its audacity and stylistic shifts may have resulted in an album that’s not quite as much like coming home as Sunbather, but it shows a genuine and fascinating maturation in a band that deserves to remain in the spotlight for all the right reasons.

The pleasure of Room 25 is in hearing a master wordsmith turn words into feelings so that the feelings linger long after the words have stopped.

There’s something to be said for the potential for personal growth inherent in traveling without a destination, and every song here is the sound of Julie Byrne making peace with her restlessness.

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.

His time alongside Gesaffelstein added to his understanding of the space between beats, and the emotive power of these hesitations.

The record is purposefully compact, genre-blending, unifying, reaffirming, devoid of corniness, with just two well-selected features that heighten but do not overshadow her performance. If other artists are clever, they’ll take note: Lizzo has just set the standard for how to make a perfect pop record.

De Augustine is the perfect match for Sufjan’s gentle vocal style — the two have very similar voices, to the point that sometimes it’s almost hard to differentiate them, but the similarity works in the album’s favor and lends each duet a feeling of tenderness and proximity.

Though the album came out of the same sessions as last year’s looser, wilder, and intentionally irreverent Star Wars, there’s now a deliberate quietness and gentleness to the core instrumentation.