The album draws its power from its ability to keep multiple balls in the air.
While the former Low singer avoids plumbing the deepest wells of his grief, its presence is impossible to miss.
If ever an album resisted sinking into algorithmic complacency, this is it.
The band’s newfound reflectiveness comes at the expense of urgency.
The album’s braggadocio is countered by the enthusiasm that the rapper brings to it.
In the end, the album’s serenity belies an intense human longing.
The album locates a middle ground between dark emotions and finding a way out of them.
The album is preoccupied with the bleak reality that remains after the credits roll.
The rapper uses his experience as both an example and a cautionary tale.
The album reflects both the singer’s dedication to the genre and his desire not to be confined by it.
If the band sticks too closely to familiar sonic territory, it is, at least, one that they’ve mastered.
The band creates an undercurrent of anxiety with mismatched rhythms, drum fills, and subtle dissonance.
The album gives voice to female rage in a way that finds truth in the ugliness.
The album is a celebration of Lorely Rodriguez’s voice as both an artist and vocalist.
The band’s musical arrangements can deftly swerve on a dime, but their lyricism falls short.
Timony’s melodies and arrangements retain a touch of the timeless and otherworldly.
The sturm und drang coursing through Wolfe’s songs is potent and deeply felt.
Like the beats themselves, the songs on the album are bracingly blunt.
With their seventh studio album, the Baltimore band offers up more of the same.
The album effectively allows listeners pick their favorites mixes and create their own playlist.