FLOOD

Shooter Jennings has never let convention or the commonplace slow his roll or stand in the way of a great notion.

Once personifying the adventurous, fresh feel of Brooklyn’s 21st century rise, GGD’s latest takes into account the jadedness of the moment.

A charming denouement dedicated to entrepreneurial spirit and nuptial love.

Josh Tillman seems to have turned the other cheek, focusing on the insular, singular self on his opulent but folksy new album.

The two-time Oscar-winner chats about leaving Hollywood, entering the writing industry, and his debut novel, “Bob Honey Who Just Do Stuff.”

Leon Bridges is an actor in a costume, but one with a sweet-and-salty voice and all the right moves to go with the richly theatrical presentation.

The live sound of the album, when combined with its subtler-than-usual hooks, is a nifty combination.

If you love Snoop’s slippery honey-and-rubber flow and sing-song patois, you’re in luck: holy rolling hasn’t slowed him.

So nothing has changed and everything has changed, and that’s how David Byrne is best served.

“Wrong Creatures” doesn’t have the fixation of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s best moments, yet it doesn’t come across as blurrily unmoored either.

The handsomely-curated vinyl box set revisits the early albums that set the tone for Monk’s mad aesthetic.

The reissue tells a story of teens from Saint Paul, Minnesota, finding themselves and their searing, rock-out identities.

Back before Weird Internet was truly a thing, Tim Heidecker and Eric Wareheim were practically swimming in it. Ten years after they changed comedy, we look back on the making and legacy of “Awesome Show, Great Job!”

Twenty years have passed since Cornelius’s sugary cut-collage classic “Fantasma,” and the Japanese electronic sound sculptor known for excursions in Shibuya-Kei has grown in ways unimaginable from that elastic landmark.

One of the planet’s most experimental film composers gets out from behind the boards for Dunkirk, a live tour, and more.

Twenty-five years after he released one of the most controversial records in hip-hop history, the LA rapper-turned–family man has regrets—but not many.

Though short and sweet, “Ti Amo” hides something frank, hard, and troubled beneath its lustful sheen and rainbow hues.

There’s buoyancy and shockingly tight musicianship to Black Lips’ prattling-on proceedings here that you won’t often find elsewhere in the garage band’s catalog.

It’s no mystery. It’s not rocket science. It only looks like it.

The oddball, acid-laced soliloquies that characterized Coyne’s Mad Hatter aesthetic from the start are still part-and-parcel of what drives his merry-to-morose ensemble.