The Moon Is In The Wrong Place, a mark of their most ambitious, introspective record to date and a remarkable continuance of momentum from their 2021 LP, The Year of the Spider.

Frog in Boiling Water offers evocative images, like the dejected, “Stuck on the ground” and “wasted” “Brown Paper Bag.” But it makes its best case as a “political shoegaze” album through its tone.

In theory, a twenty one pilots tour de force would be an interesting way to conclude the longstanding story, but unfortunately the execution on Clancy often leaves much to be desired, particularly in the second half. The first half, however, is quite strong.

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT has rewritten the year’s narrative by not overstaying its welcome. Who could have guessed that, nowadays, a 40-minute album runtime would be such a breath of fresh air? Finneas’ arrangements are so tight and complimentary to Eilish’s own macabre tendencies and unfiltered anecdotes that it’s impossible to not be charmed by the sheer lack of fuss this record expounds.

They are not a band that’s trying to sound weird or abrasive, they just are weird and abrasive. Perhaps that’s the key to Hex Dealer’s greatness—it’s a record that just is.

AMAMA is a record that reminds me that music is supposed to be fun—it doesn’t need some greater cultural indication or grand artistic statement to be good or worthwhile. Sometimes Crumb’s transient musings about strawberry seeds and deceased reptiles will do the trick.

Arriving at just under 40 minutes, Neon Pill is some of Cage the Elephant’s most polished work to date—an emblem of the delicate care for their craft, healing and the community all funneled into its making.

Their new self-titled album sounds more like the Avett of old than the previous two. .... The singing falters only when the group attempts to weave broad political grievances with the real threads of the music: love, family and faith.

Britpop at its best turns Cook’s sometimes inscrutable playbook into a public playground, accessible to the greenest of heads and the most brain-fried of hyperpop vets.

They have still remained true to their calling card and brave—and talented—enough to try new things. So while Poetry might not be an avid Dehd-head’s favorite album, I have a feeling it will attract a wider audience. It’s a relatable album, too, one that, for better or for worse, is easily digestible.

If you’re looking for tidy metaphors, you’ve got the wrong band. If it’s a brew of briny bass lines and funky dumb melodies that you seek, however, you’re seated at the right bar. Perhaps these tracks aren’t revelatory, but they’re worth reveling in.

What it is is 64 minutes of blistering, heart-racing rock ‘n’ roll that, somehow, digs its claws deeper into the heaviness of Ragged Glory’s original piercing, head-splitting distortion.

Radical Optimism appears more as a series of vignettes than a fully fleshed-out record.

It turns out that subtlety suits them, and if Look to the East, Look to the West isn’t as immediately grabby as past albums were, these songs are nonetheless built to last.

The yearning, sometimes ghostly loveliness of her voice and her swirling synth-string arrangements better parallel Bat For Lashes, Soccer Mommy, Cat Power or—most befittingly—the gloomily romantic, synth-pop of Japanese Breakfast. Trying to classify Hana Vu, or to judge her at all, though, feels almost like a violation of sorts.

Here in the Pitch is a serenade of our own unique endtimes, packed with rollicking, sugar-sweet verses and vocalizations you can twirl your body to and curl up and anguish over all the same. And, at a mere 27 minutes in length, Pratt wastes no time with us. The whole project is tight as a wire.

Both harmonically and melodically, Light Verse is more expansive, yet its arrangements are tighter. No longer the lone troubadour, Beam is backed by a group of LA musicians whose expert subtlety bolsters Beam’s magnetic quietude—even when Hollywood strings swell or the accompaniment reaches near cacophony.

The album sounds remarkably warm and alive and real; it feels like you can step on the bass lines, put the twinkling piano notes in your pocket or reach out and touch the pedal steel guitar parts.

Martin and Taylor thoughtfully trace their own familial inroads on Hovvdy, and it never sounds less than courageous, not to mention so damn listenable.

Clark has said she had to take over production because she couldn’t figure out how to articulate the sounds in her head to somebody else. Listening to the finished product, it’s easy to see what she means. The surreal, slippery “Hell Is Near” is unlike anything Clark has done before—and particularly difficult to fully capture with words. Broadly psychedelic, a collage of 12-string guitar, piano and hydra-synth creates a song that feels like its own pocket dimension.

When it comes to Aaron West, it’s easy for the plot mechanics to consume much of the conversation. But In Lieu of Flowers contains some of Campbell’s best melodies and soaring choruses.

All that hard work has culminated into a gorgeous, career-long debut. Chanel Beads’ day is finally here, now.

It is when the band—and Watt—evoke Pearl Jam’s stunning capacity to rage at the injustices of the world, invoking personal grievances in equal measure, that Dark Matter is at its best (see “React, Respond” and “Waiting For Stevie”), while less on-brand tracks like “Upper Hand,” which enters on a synthesizer intro, embrace novelty with mixed results.

This isn’t a nihilistic record, especially with the wistful but bright closing sentiment of “Common Mistake”—where Baldi sings “You’ll be alright, just give more than you take.” But most of the talking is done by Gerycz’s sledgehammer drumming and Baldi’s layered guitars, a hallmark of all great Cloud Nothings songs.

angeltape presents a darkened canvas of experimental rock, showcasing Drahla plunging into the depths of their elaborate and existential craft.

One Million Love Songs delivers exactly what it promises—an unflinching look into the seemingly endless ways that love (and loss) leaves its fingerprints on us.

sentiment is the work of someone who understands that emotions are a full-body experience, and rousay’s work responds with a sensory palette beyond what a typical song can muster. Does it devastate? Sometimes. Above all else, this little archive of rousay’s emotions cancels the distractions outside and sinks you in a bath of feeling. The best response is to ease in.

Whether they are looking backwards or forwards, you can rest assured that BODEGA will remain wholly themselves—but Our Brand Could Be Yr Life shows just how flexible all of that can be.