The tender “For A Moment” showcases the power and beauty of Cosentino’s voice whilst ‘Real Life’ is another example of her ability to craft beauty from darkness and is as good as anything that Swift and Dessner came up with on evermore and folklore.

With this welcome offering of three and a half hours of unheard studio Zappa that follows one of his most celebrated albums, one can’t help but wonder what else might eventually escape from the Zappa vault.

Feeble little horse rise above the DIY pack because there’s always something to grab onto in these songs: a blast of shoegaze guitar, a passing melodic line. “She’s five foot one, you’re six foot five,” Slocum sings on a verse in “Freak” like a little ditty. It’s a miniature moment on a miniature album, but it’s smartly placed and instantly memorable.

I Don’t Know is an exciting chapter in the contemporary shoegaze book and proves to be an accomplished achievement that channels the band’s influences into something unique and fresh that explores contrasting moods within the context of melodic indie rock.

The epic “Turbines/Pigs” combines multiple elements of the band’s sound—post-rock, piano-driven introspection, intricate arrangements, jazz elements, and even klezmer flashes—for a tour de force that is but one of the highlights here.

A record that takes the most heartbreaking and difficult subject matter and weaves it into something strangely uplifting.

The typical Cole trademarks are here in abundance—the sharp lyrics; the simple but effective melodies; the deftness of touch. However, On Pain combines them with a little bit of what he was trying to avoid in the ’80s, in a very pleasing and effective manner.

Kenney approaches herself with a welcome degree of warmth and self-acceptance, a sense of perspective and grace that gives the record an airy sun-lit undercurrent. As much as these songs are reflections in the aftermath of love lost, they are equally a path forward, offering new beginnings and new stylistic rabbit holes.

Their relentless search for the perfect pop tune now a given, their sense of absurdity and wicked charm making another trip around their sun a joyful, vital adventure.

Eight manages to balance ’90s nostalgia with a hatful of great contemporary tunes which should please the faithful and silence the critics who have nailed The Boo Radleys forever to 1995. It proves you can peep over your shoulder occasionally, as long as you keep moving forward.

A dose of Strange Ranger at their most potent, polished, and adventurous.

Blur have proven the exception to the tired formula of the heritage rock revival by releasing a brilliant, brave, and perhaps most importantly, truly creative album just when it was least expected.

A powerful and consistently great rock and roll record.

I Inside the Old Year Dying has the hallmark of an album that will only get better with age.

Throughout the album, Yusuf, who will turn 75 years old this month, is in wonderful voice. He leaves, however, his most affecting performances for the album’s end.

Whether this album opens them up to a new audience remains to be seen, but Chaos County Line is full of warmth, sly self-deprecating humor, righteous anger, brutal honesty, and beautifully crafted melodies.

Now reaches back to Nash’s past but doesn’t linger there longer than it needs to. If you think that there should be a mandatory retirement age for popular music performers, this record might make you have a rethink.

Perhaps, the quiddity of Chatten’s songwriting is threefold—he bears the heart of a romantic, the lyrical gifts of a poet, but the wide-eyed cynicism of one cognizant of how the world can ensnare artists of this stripe. This struggle, in his capable hands renders the most exquisite music about our human condition.

With Seven Psalms, Simon has tried his hand at something new and has succeeded. He manages to address the subject of mortality in an intriguing fashion—never maudlin.

Even if the ending is a forgone conclusion, Bain’s latest record is sharp, poignant, and often beautiful. Each play can reveal rich new details, leaving you free to explore the differing shades of Bain’s latest cycle.

Wronger is a great collection of easy-breezy tunes with an effortless swing. It sounds like everyone involved in making the record had a great time and that bonhomie is infectious.

In total, it’s a wonderful summation of where Stills was in 1971 and the depth and breadth of his talent onstage.

Projector was a fine introduction to the band, but 3D Country brings the quintet more fully into focus.

Versions of Us represents a powerful journey of resilience and self-discovery. It engages, uplifts, and leaves a lasting impact, proving that even in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, if you keep that “spark” alive within you, you can find the strength to prevail.

It’s clear that the group attempted making an album that was ostensibly un-Django Django, but the result is sometimes a tedious slog, much like a journey to a far-off planet.

Ben Folds has made a welcome return to the world of popular music with What Matters Most. While some of his contemporaries are content to peddle nostalgia, Folds continues to stretch out and try new styles for size. Fortunately for us, they all seem to fit him perfectly.

Henry St. is a heartfelt return to form for Mattson, who somehow still manages to find beauty in the little things.

While it has plenty of memorable moments, paired with an unfettered desire to explore and innovate in the studio, it lacks the immediate throughline of its successor. It’s still Squid at their most experimental, but it has more bark than bite.