Skins fails to bring anything genuinely new to the table.
The album comes close, in both timbre and tone, to reflecting the unvarnished Tweedy that shows up at his solo shows.
Caution finds Mariah Carey fully and unapologetically embracing her contradictions.
As revived as the classic Pumpkins sound is on Shiny and Oh So Bright, the album can't quite shake the sense of superfluity.
Elastic Days feels so natural to the artist that it may be easy to take for granted.
So many of 2018's best albums capture the feeling of trying to keep our heads above water.
Our cultural concerns in 2018 over boundaries, borders, and bottom lines have trickled down into the best songs of the year.
Robyn's Honey feels raw and incomplete, like a work in progress—and maybe that's the point.
Ono's gift for making change seem possible remains undimmed on Warzone.
With its mix of rock and balladry, Look Now strikes a fine balance between the lively and the pensive.
Unlike the film, there's not nearly enough substance here to justify all the bombast.
Us's charm lies in its articulation of the giddy uncertainty that comes from fully trusting someone.
Vile is quick to conjure up a bevy of interesting images or ideas but struggles to find a compelling way to contain them.
While Cat Power's vulnerability here lends itself to melancholy, it's also triumphant and resolute.
Dose Your Dreams proves Fucked Up's got a deep enough bag of tricks to make even conventionality sound compelling.
C'est La Vie strikes a balance between happiness and longing that's often nothing short of sublime.
For an artist who's built an entire third act with her own distinct niche in dance music, the album feels surprisingly derivative.