The London-based band embrace a defiantly weird sound in an age of chillout playlists.
The instrumental group returns after six years with an album marked by grief and intensity.
Patrick Stickles and company pull a 180 on their new album, and rock the fuck out.
Callahan settles down, thinks about death and returns with a hell of a listen.
Members of Job for a Cowboy and The Black Dahlia Murder
The Boss returns to his folk roots for an album of gritty humanity.
A slight improvement from 2016's <i>Amen & Goodbye</i> that nonetheless feels too slight.
An album that seems familiar, despite how odd it is.
A new age album that breaks the confines of its genre stereotypes.
The two artists reunite after 14 years with another set of breezy standout Americana.
The Danish band's most polished to date, but still of a piece with their broader synth-pop catalog.
The weirdest, biggest and most rewardingly bold Baroness album to date.
An enjoyable ride into utopian electronic pop.
A characteristically witty look at office culture marks Neil Hannon's latest.
The soul legend returns with collaborator Ben Harper on a set of socially conscious tunes.
The Canadian group's fifth album is far from average stoner fare.
In less than a half-hour's time, the South Florida rapper shows he might well have the clearest voice of all.
A more direct singer/songwriter record from the former Wild Beasts frontman.
Twenty minutes of zero-fucks-given punk.
A fun and heroic metal album that's definitely not for dweebs.