Band: Death Cab For Cutie

Album: Kintsugi

Kintsugi is Death Cab for Cutie’s survival record. In the years since the indie-rock heroes put out 2011′s comparatively buoyant Codes and Keys, frontman Ben Gibbard went through a public divorce from actress-singer Zooey Deschanel, and founding guitarist and producer Chris Walla began to move out of the band’s orbit. Those breakups resound in nearly every corner of the sparsely textured, emotionally prostrate album, starting with its first song, “No Room in Frame,” where Gibbard sings with crystal-clear heartache, “I guess it’s not a failure we could help/And we’ll both go on to get lonely with someone else.”

Gibbard’s signature way of sounding affected by life’s disappointments without letting them wreck him comes in handy here. On the downtempo “Black Sun,” he sings about finding hope; on the New Wave-y “Everything’s a Ceiling,” he’s still longing for someone who’s moved on to a new relationship, but it comes across as more resigned than desperate. Throughout, Gibbard’s bandmates (including Walla, who left shortly after the LP’s recording) swell around him with tasteful textures that echo their work on 2001′s early peak, The Photo Album, teasing climaxes that never quite materialize in a way that leaves you wanting more. Death Cab have coped with their losses collectively, and emerged with a heart-wrenchingly honest record.

Band: Ludacris

Album: Ludaversal

Ludacris has been focused more on acting in blockbuster movies than on making music in recent years. But on his first album since 2010, he’s still the same elastically flowing shout-rap dirty bird -- gleefully wilding out on Southern party jams like “Get Lit” and “Beast Mode.” At 37, Luda also indulges in some dad-rap introspect: “I used to be out partying every damn night/Now sometimes I’d rather be with my kids,” he notes on “Grass Is Always Greener.” There’s a somber R&B R.I.P. for his alcoholic father (“Ocean Skies,” featuring Monica), and bonus track “Problems” explores celebrity isolation in ways that make Eminem sound like a greeter at Applebee’s. Maybe he should’ve called this album Crunk on the Tracks. - Rolling Stone