The band’s first album in a decade is more haunted than its arena-sized choruses suggest.
Chairlift’s Something dwarfs its predecessor at a nearly Bends-to-Pablo Honey ratio.
It’s in outlining risks in such rich detail that Peters has created an album of rare insight.
Contrary to what James Mercer sings during its first verse, “Simple Song” isn’t really all that simple.
If there’s a knock against the album, it’s that Mize’s freewheeling shifts between genres suggest a certain degree of dilettantism.
On their latest, Cloud Nothings have never sounded so sure of their abilities.
What impresses most about 100 Proof is the extent to which it capitalizes on Pickler’s relative strengths as a performer.
The album has its highlights, predominantly featured in three of its opening tracks.
One couplet in Santigold’s “Big Mouth” could be interpreted as a swipe at Ms. Germanotta.
It would be easy to dismiss the understated “Brothers,” the first single from Tanlines’ upcoming debut, Mixed Emotions.
DiFranco’s candor simply serves her better on her intimate, personal songs.
The persona Edwards creates over the course of the album is consistently hamstrung by doubt and hesitation.
The album largely tampers the more obnoxious moments of swagger found on A Brief History of Love.
Yo Gotti doesn’t strain himself trying to save Live from the Kitchen.
Claire Boucher’s work as Grimes has always played like an exercise in arty distraction.
If the song selection wants for inspiration, the Little Willies’s performances never do.
The Weeknd’s Echoes of Silence sounds and feels like something left over from a particularly creepy Halloween party.
This is a formidable collection of songs even among superior predecessors.
On New Year’s Day, Destroyer delivered what was either a belated Christmas present or a really early one.
“4 Tears” is a bravely simple track that feels like a little step forward for Ocean.
I can recall a time when music videos were all but doomed to certain extinction.