FLOOD

In many ways, a classic Destroyer record: cavernous and twisty and rich with atmosphere.

A deeply wounded album that strengthens the steely fusion of trip-hop and R&B she mastered on her debut.

Jeff Tweedy’s relative calm in the face of turmoil is the defining force underlying the record.

Central to it all is a Justin Vernon with an altered disposition, more confident and looser—at times, he even sounds content.

“Anima” goes to great lengths to differentiate itself from Radiohead’s oeuvre.

Paak isn’t making bad songs, but his adherence to formula is beginning to define him.

“Our Endless Numbered Days” houses many of the most elegant, striking songs of Sam Beam’s career.

While Girlpool’s last album was sugary indie pop-punk, their new one paints in broader strokes.

It’s a fascinating bridge from the moody indie pop of Van Etten’s previous efforts to something a bit thornier, denser, more rewarding.

There isn’t a song here that couldn’t soundtrack the movie trailer for some teen tearjerker.

“Bottle It In”‘s pace is unhurried, strutting to a destination without much concern for how long it takes to get there.

The organic production has a real pulse to it, which gives the songs a spirited, fluid underpinning that feels uniquely suited to Noname’s reserved but dexterous delivery.

The intentions here are environmentally noble, but the songs collectively feel like a minor mood piece rather than the cohesive statement the band aspires to.

In a summer where scores of hip-hop heavyweights failed to whittle their work into a concise artistic statement, the sins of “Queen” are hardly glaring or unforgivable.

“Liberation” resurrects Xtina’s considerable presence as a vocalist, though her attempts at navigating the modern pop landscape still verge on aimless.

While Kanye’s lyrical performances are a marked improvement over his slapdash “ye” verses, “Kids See Ghosts” works best when he allows room for Cudi to shine.

“Love Is Dead” is saddled with a familiarity that’s as limiting as it is endearing.

“7” may be the most definitive—and enjoyable—break yet from the preconceptions of what a Beach House record should sound like.

For their second full-length (and debut on Woodsist), the Detroit folk-rock quartet stopped thinking too much and just went to the beach instead.

More a family reunion for the Cincinnati-bred band than an actual festival, Homecoming was a wild party with occasionally tender moments.