album reviews

How the new album by a 73-year-old extended-technique avant-garde violinist inspired a creative breakthrough for a twentysomething rock guitarist.

Destroyer's new album Poison Season feels as intentional as a room with a pen and a briefcase in it. Our writer explains.

Questing and questioning, reevaluating form and proportion, and rethinking the drums, Deradoorian's debut album is the sound of going forward — fast.

Yo La Tengo's new album of (mostly) covers is an act of generosity and expert reverence. The band continues to send ardent signals into outer space.

On his new album, Mac DeMarco does soul better than John Lennon, and indeed better than most so-called "soul singers" today. He's also like Mozart.

The unabashed result of a process of renewal, HEALTH's new album puts its pummeling noise-rock aesthetic through a contemporary pop filter.

Although laced with sadness, distress and fucked-upness, the overall effect of The Most Lamentable Tragedy is more triumphant than miserable.

Future returns to the drug-fueled morass of his early work, but in the process loses some of the introspection that made that work special.

On her new album, Chelsea Wolfe goes deeper than ever to bring back souvenirs as grotesque as they are beautiful.

Our writer would like this album even if he didn't want to be more like Albert Hammond, Jr.

A dozen years after their first album, Desaparecidos would still rather speak truth to power than capitulate to the lowest common denominator.

This might be the only piece about Luke Bryan that compares him to Keith Sweat or to Pharrell Williams wielding an axe while doing a two-step.