Ceremonials is Welch barreling off a cliff on wings made of dear-diary sentiment, art-school theatrics, and pure-cut sincerity, and somehow, against all odds, she manages to soar.
The songs hold to simple instrumentation and simple structures that allow Adele’s raspy, expressive voice to develop the story in the verses before she delivers the hook.
Within And Without feels designed more for meditation than dance moves. The album's freshly scrubbed beats bump insistently but gently against Greene's gauzy vocals and the occasional string interlude.
While Refused deconstructed post-hardcore, Iceage's stunning debut, New Brigade, slaps vibrant new life into the worked-over corpse of post-punk, radiating a breathless, desperate, ramshackle charm that runs counter to the frigid gloom of the music.
An album that’s as stunning for its straight-faced chutzpah as for its unrepentant, obsessively well-coiffed lushness.
Considering the personnel involved, it’s no surprise Wild Flag works as well as it does, or that it picks up in a familiar place.
Much like the ’80s BMW on the cover of his debut album, Nostalgia, Ultra, gifted singer-songwriter Frank Ocean apparently is out of touch with the times.
Bad As Me is entry-level Waits for newcomers, and for longtime fans it’s a fun reminder of Waits’ ability to be a badass when necessary.
Finding the beauty and the beat in unpredictable chaos—keeping the heart when the world falls apart—has always been TV On The Radio’s specialty, and here, it sounds completely effortless.
It’s hard to deny the power of The Decemberists’ renewed commitment to basic songcraft.
Engaging the darkness (rather than just acknowledging it) adds some flesh-and-blood humanity to an artist whose excellent output has nonetheless been marked by cold distance.
The bruised, bottomless beauty of Days suggests that growing up hasn’t always been easy for Real Estate.
Tesfaye breaks from radio sensibilities ... by pushing the unrest and inner turmoil those singers periodically touch on to unsettling extremes.
The Whole Love breezes by like a sunny Saturday afternoon among best friends. Now that Wilco has finally found its comfort zone, it might be time to venture elsewhere for a change.
For all its introspection, Bon Iver feels a lot more open than Vernon’s previous work, the sound of a lonely guy taking his first steps into a larger world.
David Comes To Life is Fucked Up’s most musically accessible album wrapped up in its most fearlessly pretentious and flat-out incomprehensible concept.
Civilian continues the progress made by 2009’s excellent The Knot, bringing Wye Oak’s astral drone to blossom on a richer, fuller, and more extroverted bouquet of luminous melodies.