If Yard evinces any steps forward for Slow Pulp, they are baby steps. There is an argument to be made, though, for being consistently good rather than only intermittently great.

With 11 tracks at 44 minutes, it feels more affirmed and settled, neither breaking fresh ground nor uncritically repeating past ideas.

Crazymad, for Me is a portrait of how we rationalize our behavior as a way of coping rather than a therapeutic dream. It’s a good thing the real Thompson presumably is not the actual CMAT. It’s an engaging fantasy.

Her lyrics are open to multiple interpretations. Her voice is accompanied by musical arrangements that range from the silly to the sublime to spoken word, depending on her message. Jamila Woods has a good sense of humor and engages in wordplay and childlike melodies to affect a mood or make a point.

Despite its open orchestration and more experimental bent, it is Modern Nature’s least interesting release.

The record is quite an accomplishment and an excellent vehicle for the singer’s estimable talents. It’s a low-key yet unequivocal triumph.

Synthetic or acoustic percussion, Perspective is another release demonstrating that Jlin is a genre unto herself.

We Buy Diabetic Test Strips is an incredible offering in both a prolific and boundary-pushing career for the New York rappers. Building on their gifts as MCs and lyricists, Billy Woods and Elucid have further cemented their place in alternative hip hop as one of the headiest yet most exciting groups right now.

We get to hear that continuous struggle that she chronicles in all of the songs on Nothing’s Gonna Stand in My Way Again. She faces these issues with brilliant songwriting.

Explosions in the Sky have always been epic in their approach and execution. End is no different, even if this album leaves unclear what is ending or what might be just beginning.

Mitski’s forte in her work has been her willingness to discuss her vulnerabilities. In The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, she imparts the idea that such vulnerabilities are better understood as mutual.

Gentle Confrontation has moments that feel like they can fit in the palm of your hand; just as often, it calls for total immersion. Longing builds to tender catharsis, loss to acceptance. Loraine James plunges into open water and keeps going deeper, charting an evanescent path and dwelling in every electric step of the journey.

The best parts of Midnight Rose are scattered throughout, which thankfully diminishes the impact of its weaker moments.

With Rustin’ in the Rain, they have dropped one of the year’s more vital pure country albums.

Its genre-fluidity and accessibility, while at times being as heavy as any of their old material, portrays much of what makes the genre so thriving even outside the mainstream eye.

Cousin feels like a pretty good album from a band that outgrew “pretty good” long ago. Wilco can stand out from the roots-informed indie pack, but Cousin shows they are content to go with the flow, much like that affable enough relative you get along with but don’t see that often.

At times relentlessly dense and at others wistful, her back catalog at least hints at what’s on display here.

In weird ways, softscars works as a satisfying slice of artful pop for the Anthropocene that oozes catastrophe.

Like the inanimate object from which the album gets its title, it’s just the context that makes it bizarre. A wig that lies there is just a wig. One that flies is strange. That’s true of this record as well.

While her latest work may share a bit of sonic ground with contemporary drone-based artists such as Ellen Arkbo, Kali Malone, or Sarah Davachi, none of them create music quite as fluid or as wide-screened as the sounds heard here.

It’s powerful, empowering, and, most importantly, fun.

Southern Star succeeds because Cobb is more interested in telling a story and having a good time than pontificating.

This new recording from MeShell Ndegeocello has her in that role — making her guests sound better, sometimes dominating a track, and always creating a mood around the music that puts rhythm, harmony, and melody in delicious orbits. Even the tracks that don’t contain a vocal, like “Omnipuss”, are arresting. It puts a spell on you.

Rosenstock’s choruses are catchy, the tempos are fast, and it’s an impressive proper studio performance. But does it go the length to be called anything groundbreaking? Not so much. But that’s not the point. Rosenstock has been doing this for a long time; experience goes a long way. For what it’s worth, he’s really good at what he does.

The album might not stun, but it deserves more than faint praise. Bluegrass feels like comfort food tastes, not because it’s familiar or steady but because its nature pleases instantly.

It is a must for jazz fans and anyone with an appreciation for rich and reflective creative art.

Strange Disciple finds Nation of Language’s devotion to their craft and the acts that inspired them admirably intact, even dogged. It is probably their most listenable album from start to finish. Still, it leaves the sense that, cool as they are, a bold new turn may be coming due.

More than just having fun updating her work, Demi Lovato refashions herself and her music to reflect the person she is today, which is bold and defiant.

The individual tracks offer empathetic portraits of people and places that he presumes have been undeservedly ignored or overlooked. The album’s underlying theme concerns Weiner’s growth as the world changed around him. Musically, Low Cut Connie embrace Reed’s textured approach to pop music.

They’ve changed by never really changing their old-timey style and showing that keeping one’s roots exposed in the musical world can be a smart decision.

With just one album, Dayes goes all over the map. That he pulls it off non-frantically is one of Black Classical Music’s many selling points. So call it jazz, call it classical, call it whatever you like, just don’t sleep on it.

The acoustic tracks are worthwhile, and the big, catchy singles “Last Word” and “Shine” are sure crowd-pleasers. However, it’s not as ambitious as the dual-color records Yellow and Green or Gold & Grey, and it comes up a little short compared to the excellent Blue Record.

The resulting tension in many of Hynde’s songs comes from the push-pull between connected love and guarded aloneness, and it propels much of Relentless.

As a soundtrack, End of the Day will ultimately be a minor work in Barnett’s catalog. However, it does illuminate her capacity to lower the volume and explore a different register of ambient frequencies in her ongoing sound. This LP is fascinating for its introspective character, even if the key elements that have defined Barnett’s popular appeal are missing.

On The Window, Ratboys reach their fullest potential, expanding and stretching their collaboration, continuing to explore their multi-faceted musical face. They have produced one of their best and most rewarding efforts thus far, and the catchiness of their songs will make listeners return gleefully if the tracks don’t stick to them during intermission.

Whichever end of the spectrum you might land on, there’s rage, yearning, and reckless behavior here that transcends generations, which is a soaring accomplishment.

The new album Jump for Joy switches up the mood considerably, offering a bouncy set of tracks that build on youthful enthusiasm and maturing gratitude.

Playing Robots Into Heaven is ultimately a flawed but, at times, interesting and worthwhile foray for Blake into more beat-led, dancefloor-friendly music.

No, there’s nothing here on the order of “I Love It”, which may or may not have to do with Charli XCX having written none of the new release’s 15 songs. Nonetheless, this music is quite successful at doing what it’s designed to do: fan out into clubs, teenagers’ playlists, and Urban Outfitters franchises and reach the nearest available pleasure receptors of young listeners.

As with her best work, there are some great moments on the record, but overall, Hit Parade is a bit inconsistent; its title is false advertising. It’s a frustratingly uneven album, with just enough genius to make the mediocrity on some tracks stand out.

Everything Is Alive may not have a “Star Roving” kind of single tucked within, but it still hits the listener where it counts, deep within the tenth listen with the lights turned down low in late autumn. Don’t fret over any initial impressions of stasis. Everything is indeed alive.

You’re the One can get a little lost in its own scope, both a strength and weakness, but Giddens’ exploration of the extensive history of American music continues to be compelling and enlightening.

So much of Homo Anxietatem is about using guitar-driven music to excavate deep feelings of hurt, fear, and anxiety and to process those feelings through the music. Those who listened to Shamir’s previous record won’t be surprised and just how fantastic Homo Anxietatem is.

There are outstanding performances throughout Sundial. Rapper billy woods in “Gospel?” spews magma, and Chicago legend Common drops a verse on the song “Oblivion” that could have easily fit into his great album Be from 2005. The singer Ayoni adds her voice on two tracks to make Sundial feel like a momentous occasion.

Gregory Alan Isakov hasn’t reinvented the wheel – his style has been implemented by plenty of artists before and currently – but as Appaloosa Bones proves, few artists can do it as well as him.

Carlile’s voice sometimes overshadows Mitchell’s newfound alto, an intriguing new area in her vocal range that symbolizes the current wise and withdrawn period of her life.

In conclusion, half an album here marks some of Lydon’s best work in decades and a half that should have never left band practice.

One of the issues with Euphoria is that it’s very pretty, almost oppressively so. The beats and the synths are rounded and smooth like baby-proofing edge guards. The vocals are fetching, as Georgia has a delightful voice. However, she has chosen to sing most of these songs in a demure, modest delivery. So, even though the title promises euphoria, it rarely reaches that high of a peak.

The Loveliest Time is a sharp, upbeat, and sonically diverse companion to its predecessor.

As displayed in Loving You, Amanda Shires and Bobbie Nelson shared a profound connection. The result is a tribute to the artists’ talents and essential listening for piano-based country music fans and Americana listeners.

We get some huge heavy hitters who do very good-to-great work. But the record sinks into pink slush during the so-so-filler tracks. Although there are some fantastic high points and some tacky low points, Barbie: The Album still manages to pull through with a cheeky victory, even if it’s qualified.

Supernatural Thing may not be the best album M. Ward has ever created. Still, it’s a highly enjoyable musical journey that, like a novel with unique twists and turns, is greatly aided by its sense of darkness, mystery, and exciting characters.

In Times New Roman… is classic Queens of the Stone Age in all its grit and posture, but with a newly found lyrical resonance, making it a worthy late addition to their consistently upstanding catalog.

The Greater Wings is sublime and difficult to fault. Fans of Byrne will be delighted and moved to hear her grow even further as an artist and songwriter, not least in her coming to terms with grief and pain. New listeners to Byrne will surely find an artist of great pathos and empathy whose talents may now get the wider hearing they deserve.

“Tumbling Dice” and “Easy Falling” also feel a little indistinct. The former has a pleasing descending melody and uptempo drum beat but isn’t particularly memorable. Meanwhile, “Easy Falling” is a floaty, washed-out ending track that, while peaceful, isn’t an especially strong closer. Slugs of Love is nonetheless a great return to form from Little Dragon.

It’s hard to say if this is Lofgren’s finest hour or just another fine hour in a long line of them, and in the end, it doesn’t really matter.

Guajiro is nothing too cutting-edge in terms of sound; its strength is in the band’s understanding of musical roots. Still, it feels fresh, endowed with a collaborative spirit that makes for something wonderfully new.

["The First Time I Fell in Love" is] a confident personal expression to close a record full of travel and grand events and unleashed energy. It's the perfect finish, a close-up after a run of characters and frequent rowdiness that calmly settles one of the year's best albums.

The lyrics seem to be its weakest part. Although the words can be clever, the singer-songwriter seems to have nothing to say. Sometimes, this works to his advantage.

Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) is a nod to one of life’s central truths: you can’t go back in time, and you can never perfectly replicate your youth, but there are always new paths forward.

The Dirty South is an absolute gem, and The Complete Dirty South is an upgrade over the original version. However, it may be that this edition only appeals to Drive-By Truckers’ hardcore fans. The physical two-CD set is wonderful and the best available version of the record.

Oddisee more than holds his own while weaving his nimble lyricism across his diverse soundscape.

Animals pushes jazz and hip-hop further. Kassa Overall, through his own performance, arrangements, production, and enviable talent with bringing together a broad but complementary roster of collaborators, has created a record worthy of your time, and that of anyone interested in free-thinking music.

“How do you say goodbye forever?” she asks on the heartbreaking finale, “Chain of Tears”, before reminding everyone how raw, personal, and painful these songs can be. But then, unlike some of her contemporaries who might overthink the landing after uttering such a powerful phrase, she nails it in the plainest way possible. “Sincerely asking advice.” Here’s some: More of this, please.

Ultimately, simplicity and genuine vulnerability are rarities, especially in today’s shallow and superficial musical landscape. This Is the Kit again holds listeners captive with one of the unique voices in contemporary indie folk-rock.

She clearly announces that she’s not going gently into that good night. She may feel burned out, but she still wants to get higher. She refuses to give up without a fight. She’s the same as she ever was, goddamnit. All hail the queen.

Having all that experience between the three and letting the moment take precedence is a life-affirming listen. There is no coincidence in how well this turns out.

Even by Isbell’s lofty standards, Weathervanes is a big swing, and the band hits a home run.

Eight boasts too many potential singles to be written off as another wishful reunion. The record proves that they’re not only back but also thriving.

While it might not be her most eclectic work, Chemistry grapples with this condition in the most human ways.

The Good Witch isn’t just a breakup album with attitude and vigor. It’s a continuing saga of what it means to be a 20-something female musician in an era where people come of age on social media, which can be toxic and empowering at once.

On Formal Growth in the Desert, Protomartyr have ever-so-subtly evolved their sound into something not quite mellow and not quite as expansive as its titular reference – and yet also not as claustrophobically volatile as previous efforts. It’s something gloriously in between.

The less you know about how unfun Bognanno’s life sounds like it’s been while she wrote and recorded Lucky for You, the more pleasure there is to be had here.

Produced by Tassa and Greenwood and mixed by Nigel Godrich, Jarak Qaribak (translating from Arabic as “Your Neighbor Is Your Friend”) constantly and refreshingly brings together a variety of styles – not just in terms of country of origin but also eras and genres.

A selectively expanded instrumentation that enhances, rather than negates, the sentiments of Monterey. This record is the culmination of the band’s work up until this point, and it is as transcendent in sound and feeling as it was in the process.

There’s plenty of variety in what El Michel’s Affair and Black Thought are doing, keeping what could be a static-sounding record fresh and exciting.

Guy is an admirable and occasionally affecting project that balances personal vulnerabilities with uplifting and life-affirming music.

A rollicking experience from start to finish, Tomorrow Never Comes shows once again why Rancid are so fondly regarded.

Bands can stretch themselves and grow without going off on tangents or completely overhauling their signature sound. Some that have mastered this are now considered institutions, and Versions of Us puts Lanterns on the Lake in a position to join those ranks.

MICHAEL is a terrific work from Killer Mike. Personal, spiritual, revelatory, open, proud, triumphant, and above all else, undeniable, unshakeable, and fiercely independent.

With ten tracks and roughly 35 minutes, Heaven Is a Junkyard is beautifully executed from a musical standpoint, with Powers’ piano and synthesizer often providing a bright and cheerful counterpoint to the dark lyrics at hand.

What Matters Most ends up being a mixed bag. Musically, this is a strong record. .... As much as I like Ben Folds, though, hearing him come back with a new pair of songs about women who are borderline crazy is disheartening, and it casts a pall over the rest of the album. Some longtime fans might not have that same visceral reaction, and they’ll probably enjoy What Matters Most more than I did.

Spread out across three continents, the Amatssou team has nonetheless created a tight and exciting package of assouf (the term Tinariwen often uses for their music, translating to “nostalgia”). Tinariwen link Nashville and North Africa in ways well suited to a definition of outlaw country that includes their rebellious rock.

Though Space Heavy is more emotionally preoccupied than its predecessors, Krule hasn’t lost his assured, inventive style.

The singer-songwriter sees herself and others with a well-trained eye but doesn’t always reveal what she has learned. She needs to step outside of herself more lest she not realize the significance of what her emotions are telling her.

You have to give kudos to anybody doing their best to circumvent blueprints and well-trodden paths. They’re really good at it too! So if this album doesn’t resonate quite like the one before, blame it on the difficulty of the assignment than the execution.

If Bunny has a fault, it is in the way it is so poised and delicately produced that it sometimes sounds like it should be behind glass. Ultimately, though, it succeeds at the none-too-easy task of providing plenty of familiar pleasures in the present while making one curious about where Payseur might take Beach Fossils in the future.

It has gorgeous moments that replace silence by reorganizing the background sounds of everyday life, which is arguably what all music should do. With Romantic Piano, Gia Margaret has perfected her voice.

Brown and Amos have intelligence to burn. Everyone’s Crushed soundtracks our present frenzied moment in new ways, portending a mutual future neither bright nor grim but, like this band, is inescapably singular.

Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd is a 16-track, 78-minute album, and some of it will lose even her most ardent fans. Track eight is where it regains itself through the extended metaphor of “Kintsugi”: a Japanese term for a pottery repair technique that calls attention to the crack rather than hides it. .... [After “Margaret”] There are three more tracks, though.

Not everything lands with equal force, but what does land reminds you of the treasure that Graham Nash has been and continues to be in the ongoing narrative of rock music.

The answer is there is no answer until perhaps it is too late. He’s not the first person to come to that conclusion. The value of Simon’s record lies in its pondering of life’s mysteries.

In London Ko, Diawara uses a broader sonic palette than her earlier music and generally dials up the amplitude. While the music aims to move your body, its Bambara lyrics are also meant to move your spirit.

Anyone coming to RP Boo or footwork in general via this release needs to be prepared to have their bones rearranged and their senses overloaded.

My Soft Machine unfolds respectably, proficiently, even likable, yet not particularly memorably.

Angry and disturbing lyrics of this caliber would signify liberation for any other female artist. But it’s never been more evident than it is on Gag Order that Kesha is not a free woman. This makes it all the more difficult to enjoy Gag Order for what it is when there’s a blaring undercurrent that’s hard to ignore.

The music was recorded at Sear Sound during a five-day stint in New York City and sounds as sophisticated as the city that never sleeps.

The assured, varied, and ear-pleasing Everything Harmony raises anticipation for whatever choices the Lemon Twigs will make next.