Longing, composing, rambling.

Angel Olsen makes sweet, old-timey-country-inspired music for people with a burning in their hearts. Her sound falls somewhere between Johnny Cash and Mazzy Star, with a 60's era sensibility in the chord progressions but a current aesthetic in the execution. The aching is palpable in Angel's nervous vibrato, and her biting delivery of lines like "Are you lonely, too?/High-five, so am I" cuts right to the core. There's not much to the instrumental, and that feels just right here—her voice is the thing, those lyrics are the thing. And the song "Iota" will take your heart out of your body and stomp on it.

A short history on St. Vincent for the uninitiated: school at Berklee College of Music (like every other genius), then Polyphonic Spree, then Sufjan Stevens' backing band, then solo career. What's amazing and wonderful is how she can take complex musical motifs and present them in a super-well-edited way—every instrument feels crucial to the mix, and nothing feels extraneous. And on this, her fourth album, her songs are just so danceable. Lyrically, she kills is yet again, with lines like "I took you off your leash/But I can't, no I can't make you heel..../We both have our rabid hearts/Feral from the very start." Come for the dancing; stay for the lyrics. And maybe also the dancing.

It's funny to think about where Beck started out and where he is today. He's always been solid musically, but his tongue-in-cheek lyrics, while hilarious and entertaining, seemed to keep him a safe distance from actually emotionally committing to anything. That has certainly changed over the years, and his new "Morning Phase" has charm in its poetic earnestness. With his sweeping string parts and lush arrangements, it's easy to start thinking of him as more of a composer than a songwriter. "Songwriter" just doesn't seem to cover it. This is a beautiful, cinematic record—far removed from the world of "Loser" and "Debra"—and will likely go down as one of his finest.

I'll come out and say this first: it takes a little bit to get used to the rambling lyrical style of Mark Kozelek, lead singer and songwriter for Sun Kil Moon. But if you're initially apprehensive, keep listening—this album is full of beautifully-told stories of tiny, unseemly slices of humanity. Kozelek's haunting baritone voice travels through each scene, interacting with the characters in a way that's so personal it's almost uncomfortable. And ultimately, his rambling voice is what makes it, because these aren't stories with convenient conclusions or easy answers.