FLOOD

Thundercat continues to alchemize his inimitable style as a honeyed singer, whipsmart producer, and lithe bassist.

A track-by-track ranking of the album that made me realize it was OK to be anxious.

Mackenzie Scott has always been a sharp and economical lyricist with a variety of personas at her disposal.

The cousins discuss inverting genre tropes, their first embarrassing movie, and the evergreen influence of “Columbo.”

The Nashville guitarist continues his streak as an accomplished folk storyteller with or without words.

The Numero Group focuses its lens on the pivotal country music made between 1969 and 1980, when many smaller musicians were directly inspired by Gram Parsons and The Flying Burrito Brothers.

This isn’t Music Appreciation 101.

Jack Tatum leans further into the synth-pop landscape than ever before on his third album as Wild Nothing, “Life of Pause.”

On “Commontime,” the brothers Brewis double down on this concept by settling into a few more, well, common time signatures alongside their usual pop-funk trappings.

“Jet Plane and Oxbow”’s fist-raising peaks are sadly rare, but the craft of the production is still worthy of admiration.

In the fall of 2014, Parquet Courts announced a tour with fellow New York band PC Worship under the nondescript stage name PCPC.

The result is “Dreams of Childhood,” a charity spoken-word album whose proceeds go to La Casa de la Cultura de la Calle (The Street House of Culture).

Welcome back, Bradford. Long live, Deerhunter!

With “Have You in My Wilderness,” Holter’s musical worlds continue to engross.

The group’s previous calling cards—swelling brass or the romantic swoop of an orchestra’s strings—are only seldom heard throughout “No No No.”

Shana Cleveland, leader of the Seattle surf-rock band, talks about being inspired by the emotional riptides of life.

“The Expanding Flower Planet” is a sun-dappled, cosmic exploration of moods that succeeds, not in spite of, but partially because of its obfuscated nature.

Each of Ezra Furman’s solo releases is a ball of condensed energy that explodes several times over before the final song is done.

The band’s third album, “Currents,” is spacey, intricately layered, and soulful.

The real draw is, and will always be, “Black Mountain”’s original eight tracks, which still stand up to scrutiny a decade later.