FLOOD

“New Fragility” builds up a better framework for CYHSY as an Alec Ounsworth solo project.

The latest, truly masterful statement from Tamara Lindeman blooms beyond her Americana roots.

Much of the Pumpkins’ overstuffed 11th album is merely a faded approximation of ’90s rock.

The constant theme on Calexico’s new holiday album is friends and family celebrating the good times.

The group’s sixth album is a long exhale after the excited breathing and bare-chested songcraft heard on their last three records.

“The Ascension” is an unrelenting release that asks a lot of its listeners, but it gives back plenty as well.

The band’s sixth album sounds like a bigger, hi-fidelity bite of the “Sam’s Town” apple.

Sophie Allison follows up “color theory” with a compilation featuring Jay Som, SASAMI, and more.

The piano is the torch guiding Jones through the darkness on her eighth solo album.

Sumney brings shards of art rock, R&B, classical, electronic, jazz, and soul into one beautiful piece of musical kintsugi.

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.