Is Infernal’s INF:ALBUM a nostalgic dance-floor revival, or just a tired loop stuck in 2010? Spoiler: it’s not worth the glowsticks.

What do you get when a beloved indie-pop trio trades catchy choruses for dreamy soundscapes? A late-night stroll that’s equal parts mesmerizing and sleepy.

Imagine if your high school diary grew up, learned to play the guitar, and decided to release an album. That’s “Shawn” by Shawn Mendes—a collection of introspective musings wrapped in folk-pop melodies, all delivered with the earnestness of a puppy presenting you with its favorite chew toy.

Imagine being promised a gourmet meal by a renowned chef, only to be served a lukewarm bowl of instant noodles. That’s the experience of diving into Flying Lotus’s latest EP, Spirit Box.

Loom is Imagine Dragons at their most introspective, delivering a tight, emotionally charged album that balances their signature anthems with surprising moments of restraint, proving that sometimes less really is more.

Outer Spaceways Incorporated aims for a cosmic collision of jazz and classical but ends up as an overcooked, chaotic experiment where Kronos Quartet and their collaborators lose themselves in the void, offering more confusion than coherence.

If Fine Art by Kneecap is “art,” then it’s the kind you might find scrawled on a bathroom stall after a particularly rowdy night at the pub—amusing at first, but it quickly loses its charm once you realize the punchline is the entire joke.

Eels Time! is a cozy, introspective ride through Mark Oliver Everett’s signature blend of bittersweet humor and melancholic musings—charming for longtime fans but too safe and slow-burning to leave a lasting impression.

The Dream of Delphi is a tender, ethereal meditation on motherhood that trades Bat for Lashes’ usual cinematic boldness for intimate, ambient soundscapes—beautifully soothing but occasionally drifting into the overly subdued.

66 sees Paul Weller embracing his age with a reflective charm, delivering a nostalgic, genre-hopping album that feels like a warm toast to time’s passage—comforting for fans, though occasionally lacking the spark of his earlier work.

Hit Me Hard and Soft is Billie Eilish at her most haunting and raw, balancing eerie intimacy with emotional gut punches in an album that demands you feel every whisper and beat—it’s dark, tender, and utterly unforgettable.

The title’s honest—there are certainly “No Hard Feelings” here, because there are hardly any feelings at all.

Reasonable Woman is a polished but uneven return for Sia, blending emotional ballads and glittery pop bangers into an ambitious yet scattered album that struggles to find a clear identity.

Cold Visions drowns in its own distorted chaos, delivering 30 tracks of repetitive noise and emotionless autotune that even the most loyal Bladee fans might struggle to endure.

The Tortured Poets Department is Taylor Swift at her most raw and self-aware, blending biting wit, emotional wreckage, and sonic experimentation into a darkly addictive album that feels like heartbreak reimagined as performance art.

We Still Don’t Trust You is an overstuffed, underwhelming slog that leans on recycled ideas and bloated production, proving that even Future and Metro Boomin can run a good formula into the ground.

Ramona swings for emotional and theatrical grandeur but ends up feeling overproduced and disjointed, with Grace Cummings’ powerful voice often drowning in a sea of mismatched arrangements and missed opportunities.

Cowboy Carter is Beyoncé at her most daring, blending country, folk, and experimental sounds into a sprawling exploration of identity and Black history that’s as bold as it is uneven.

Gary Clark Jr.’s JPEG RAW is a bold, messy experiment that swings for the fences, blending blues, hip-hop, funk, and soul into a genre-defying ride that’s as thrilling as it is uneven.

Currents flips the script on Tame Impala’s usual hazy guitars, trading them for a synth-soaked, danceable dive into heartbreak and self-discovery that hits harder the more you let it in.