The album is the strongest affirmation yet of Dan Bejar's inexhaustible restlessness.
The album is further proof that Jepsen is capable of translating broadly understood emotions and experiences into unshakable earworms.
With their new album, Girls' Generation seems to be determined to give listeners a little bit of everything.
Sing Into My Mouth is a surprisingly essential document for fans of both Iron and Wine and Band of Horses.
Between an arresting start and a lavish finish, Beach House's latest loses steam.
The mini-album feels like a bridge between Robyn 2.0 and an incarnation of the dance-pop icon we—and she—haven't yet imagined.
The album continues the band's slippery practice of defining themselves through a mixtape-style method of cover curation.
Another One is a snapshot of an artist who's found his lane and continues to mine it for affecting, melodically spry material.
Most of VII: Sturm und Drang is devoted to Lamb of God's merciless three-guitar attacks.
Star Wars is by far the noisiest and most adventurous Wilco album in over a decade.
Although Currents is, in many ways, a showcase of difference, Tame Impala also toys with repetition as a unifying theme.
With Born in the Echoes, the Chemical Brothers follow their muse and just bang.
Something More Than Free, retains Southeastern's intimate acoustic-based feel and heavyhearted lyrical matter.
The ornamental bluster of Refused's Freedom masks a basic tunelessness.
Wildheart communicates the realities of an ever-more-fractured sexual landscape by dancing between extremes of light and dark.
Little Boots's third album, Working Girl, is, much like its predecessor, a more sonically focused effort.
With Deja vu, Giorgio Moroder rips a page right out of the Calvin Harris/David Guetta/Steve Aoki playbook.
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