It’s an intriguing concept that mixes well with Shauf’s morore-sounding, baroque pop, indie folk stylings. It’s not far off from Father John Misty’s approach: a concept album about a loosely connected theme, but approached with an interest in its most mundane elements.

There’s a diversity of guests here that feels exactly appropriate for what Shauf is going for. On “Early to the Party,” a man arrives way earlier than necessary. At the end of “Twist Your Ankle,” he sings “Everybody’s laughing at me; I wish I just stayed home.” And the song brilliantly ends, quite literally, on that note.

“Alexander All Alone” is about a smoker who, on his last pack, suddenly keels over and dies. “Begin Again” is about being stuck with a friend who can’t stop bragging about how he’s cheating on his partner with the girl Shauf wants to be with — and Shauf pleads for the world to end rather than the conversation to continue.

Musically, it does end: the music reaches a climactic swell, as if the light has arrived to “dissolve [them] all,” as Shauf so desperately wants. It’s brilliantly well-realized, the musical stuff of indie pop dreams.

I share these songs specifically with you not because they’re exceptional examples from the album. Every song on The Party is worth hearing; it’s an exceptional record — one of the year’s best in its genre. But the songs I’ve described are great examples of the sheer amount of variety on display. Every song has as much of a personality as its characters do. For a songwriter self-releasing his first record on a “serious” label, that’s an accomplishment.

With The Party, Andy Shauf has matured and become one of Canada’s best singer-songwriters. It’s a treat of an album. I think you’re going to love it.

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It’s a level of thinking that’s clearly part of the thinking throughout Kiwanuka’s sophomore album. I think the great majority of people are going to be talking about “Black Man in a White World,” the album’s second track, because it’s both a good single and a reflection of Kiwanuka’s personal politics. It’s an impeccable song, but to focus exclusively on it would be doing the musician a great disservice. It implies he’s only grown lyrically.

But the truth is, Kiwanuka has grown a great deal from his debut to where he is today: as a singer, as a songwriter, and as a performer. There are elements of “Black Man in a White World” that are well above and beyond most of what soul performers are doing today — the choral arrangements, in particular, are excellent. And that’s all without mentioning Danger Mouse’s superb production.

But the rest of the record is astounding in other ways. Kiwanuka’s use of atmospheric elements is impressive. His vocal performance is indelible, buttery smooth, and transfixing. On “Place I Belong,” his voice soars above the instruments. Both the instruments and his voice sound like traditional roots rock. On “One More Night,” his performance makes a traditional blues line feel like something new.

The title track is perhaps the best track on the record, though: Kiwanuka combines everything he’s good at in one track: there’s a rolling bass line and that carries the song. His vocal lines are strong throughout, and his performance is tender. The atmosphere builds throughout with subtle use of a strings section, and excellent backing vocal performers who carry the beat. The bridge has such momentum to it that it elevates the song to another level — and the guitar solo is so evocative that it might make you weep.

And I should mention that the guitar solos throughout the record — and there are many — are each emotionally relevant, tasteful pieces that truly add to the songs in question. Somebody said years ago that guitar solos should be written for the song, not the other way around (and I neither agree nor disagree), but Kiwanuka is one of the few artists who really seems to have taken that advice to heart. The solos throughout are all excellent.

This is real soul music. It’s immense. It’s emotional. It’s incredibly satisfying. But at the same time it wouldn’t sound out of place in a film soundtrack. For some odd reason, it reminds me of The Lion King — perhaps because it evokes some of Elton John’s finest moments as well. Kiwanuka would be excellent in musicals.

Most importantly, though, is that when Kiwanuka sings, “You can’t break me down, you can’t take me down, you can’t break down,” I believe him. It’s an endearing performance, one that is stronger than the sum of its parts.

There are some performers who identify by their name when they should, perhaps, include the name of their backing band. (Brad Paisley comes to mind as one example, on occasion.) But with Michael Kiwanuka, it feels like he’s truly carrying the band with him. They follow his lead. His performance is excellent, his songwriting is without compare in the genre, and his storytelling ability is second to none.

Love & Hate is the maturation of Michael Kiwanuka’s sound and abilities. If you don’t know him, now’s the time to get to know him. If you like his debut, you’re going to love this.

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That’s how, despite guitar rock feeling increasingly like a washed out genre, JPNSGRLS retains the ability to surprise. It’s because they thumb their nose at convention, and shrug in the face of doing the same things everybody else is invested in. They want to be different.

That’s not to say they sound like Radiohead — they certainly don’t — but they just don’t care if they make conventional music sense. Riffs appear, disappear, change, appear again, and pop up seemingly whenever it suits the band’s motus operandi, which is to rip things up.

A key example for me is one of the album’s more laid-back songs, “A Comprehensive List of Things I Love.” It’s discordant on purpose, with a chord that repeats through the chorus that’s purposefully an uncomfortable mix of notes. It’s clearly influenced by Spoon, but with total disregard for being as commercially viable. And the bridge takes the verse riff and decomposes it until it’s nearly unrecognizable. Finally, to top it off, there’s a chorus of background singers who seem like they belong in a totally different song. Yet, despite itself, it’s one of the best tracks on the record.

The only way you can make music like this is if it’s completely intentional. And JPNSGRLS is intentional and confident with this approach.

This is the way of JPSNGRLS: not unlike GØGGS, they just want to mess things up. Whether it’s on a rollicking rock track like “2009” or the single “Bully For You,” the band is intent on being loud and irreverent. You know whether or not an album like this is for you. If you’re into The Strokes, The Hives, or Spoon, this is going to do you well — but it’s a purposefully sloppy mess that succeeds because it’s confident enough to know that’s exactly what it wants to be.

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When Charlotte Cardin is at her best, though, it feels like she’s alone in a room with you. Perhaps that’s because her lyrics are clearly sensual: the chorus in “Dirty Dirty” talks about washing her dirty thoughts off her. It’s not subtle, but it’s successful because it’s not. The instrumentation is dripping with atmosphere, and oozing with sensuality.

Everybody’s been talking about the jazzy take she has on pop music, but truth be told, I don’t hear a lot of jazz in it. There’s definitely a French jazz influence — Charlotte Cardin’s Montreal heritage is readily apparently — but the influence largely extends to the rhythm. This is pop music through and through. It’s sensual, and it’s fascinating, but it’s pop. “Les échardes” — an excellent song, by the way — is the closest she gets to traditional jazz. (It’s impeccably well done, and I’d love to hear Cardin do more like it.)

What’s great about Cardin is that her voice is completely natural. There’s no autotune here. On the Apple Music version of the album, there are two bonus videos of her performing “Big Boy” and “Les échardes.” It’s revealing of two things: her music is incredibly minimal. The production on the record is deceiving, because it sounds bigger than it is. When those trappings are lifted, the music takes on an air that’s intimate and special.

The second thing it reveals is the quality of Cardin’s voice: there isn’t a hint of autotune here, and she hits every note exactly how it is on the record. Charlotte Cardin’s vocal performance is impeccable and haunting — nearly angelic if it weren’t so sexual. I’m looking forward to a complete LP from her in the future.

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This new video aims to capture the attention of people who are obsessed with Pokémon Go — Orijin’s even called it “Pokémon Go Rap” on Youtube. It’s a smart move. The video’s as much fun as the song, and since it’s one of the best tracks on the new record, I have zero issues with this. The video’s great.

If you missed it, now’s as good a time as any to check out his sophomore record, Re:Percussions, out now on LSTNFND. Check it out on Apple Music, Spotify, or iTunes.

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That would be laughable if the music didn’t live up to it, but the good news is that Ty Segall’s newest project is one of his punkiest, noisiest records yet. It’s fuzzier than Fuzz and certainly more in-your-face than his other bands, although prior to GØGGS I didn’t know that was possible. It’s Segall at his most absurd, and maybe his most fun.

When I first heard the opening track, “Falling In,” I was instantly reminded of Savages’ Adore Life (still one of my favourite records this year). But the tone changed very quickly. I was worried for a moment that this would be a slow, calculating Segall record. But GØGGS is a raw, energetic record from one of rock’s most raw and energetic leading men.

It’s worth noting that Segall isn’t the only talent on the record: Fuzz drummer Charles Moothart and Ex-Cult’s vocalist Chris Shaw are both on board too. Chris Shaw’s vocals are a great complement to Segall’s fuzzy tone. The great bass lines throughout help too. Seriously, if you play bass guitar, this is going to be one of your favourite records of the year. The bass work is fantastic and it’s audible.

As much as this feels like a Segall record, at this point, it’s also starting to feel like he’s parodying himself. It’s yet another project from him (how many bands does he have now?) with fuzzy production and a clear anti-modern aesthetic. Even guitar solos, like the ones on Shotgun Shooter, are kept short and sweet — and as distorted as possible. It’s Segall playing Segall. I don’t know why it couldn’t have been released under any other one of his monikers.

But it’s also got some hardcore punk influence, too. Dead Kennedys are undoubtedly an influence here, but so is Minor Threat. Sometimes, the band sounds intentionally nightmarish, projecting punk-influenced drone metal on the title track. (It’s weird, but it’s also pretty cool.)

I love “Assassinate the Doctor,” which feels like everything I loved about hardcore punk in the first place. It’s twisted, it’s ruthless, it’s violent. It’s also a ton of fun.

GØGGS doesn’t overstay their welcome: the ten tracks fly by, and the record isn’t padded out with any signs of weakness either. The final track, “Glendale Junkyard,” is as much of a ripper as “She Got Harder,” the album’s third track. It’s a testament to Segall and crew that, even if you can’t tell Ty’s bands apart any more, they’re still ripping from one album to the next with nary a stop for a breath.

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