It's been a decade since Bangerz positioned Miley Cyrus as a young woman publicly transforming from Disney goof to party girl. In many ways, it was the predictable child-star cry for attention—I can drink alcohol! I can take drugs! I can have sex! I can shave off my long locks and wear underwear as outerwear!—yet the wild and wooly songs were anything but predictable. Now, Cyrus is 30; she's been married and divorced; she's lived through twerking scandals. And her new album lets the world know she's in a new place: Like Madonna, Cyrus is pretty brilliant at stylistic reinvention. It opens with her inescapable, disco-kissed hit "Flowers." An anthem for single women and men, it cleverly serves an empowered response to Bruno Mars' simpering 2013 ballad "When I Was Your Man," with its lyrics about how he should've bought his girl flowers and held her hand and taken her to parties to dance. "I can buy myself flowers," Cyrus declares. "Write my name in the sand … I can take myself dancing/ I can hold my own hand/ Yeah, I can love me better than/ You can." First things first, there is no other song as good as this on the record (or, when it was released, on the radio). But there is plenty to enjoy. With breezy beats that live up to its name, "Island" echoes the theme of "Flowers" like it was the first try of Cyrus getting used to being on her own: "I'm on an island/ Dirty dancing in the sun/ So close to heaven/ But so far from everyone … Am I stranded on an island?/ Or have I landed in paradise?" Dreamy "Rose Colored Lenses"—about wanting to stay in bed with someone rather than let the realities of the outside world ruin what you have—partners a languid melody with '90s alt beats and bouncy bass. "You" is a woozy, soulful slow jam about letting loose: "I wanna drive down to Texas/ flip off my exes/ Get kind of reckless/ and have wild, wild, wild sex under the moon." "Violet Chemistry" reunites Cyrus with Mike WiLL Made-It (who produced Bangerz' excellent, sedative-laced "We Can't Stop"); it's pretty and ready for moving around mindlessly on the dance floor, but has none of the eccentricity of their past collaborations. "Thousand Miles," too, is a wasted opportunity. Folksy Americana with a little Latin flair, it features harmonies from Brandi Carlile in songbird mode. But what a treat it would be to hear these two powerhouses go at it in a real duet. Sia guests on the stomping "Muddy Feet," a "take this love and shove it" number that echoes Justin Timberlake's "Cry Me a River." You can imagine Lady Gaga or even Bonnie Tyler recording "Wonder Woman," but Cyrus absolutely owns the piano ballad. And the closer, a demo of "Flowers" with just her and an electric piano, is chill-inducing. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

It's been a decade since Bangerz positioned Miley Cyrus as a young woman publicly transforming from Disney goof to party girl. In many ways, it was the predictable child-star cry for attention—I can drink alcohol! I can take drugs! I can have sex! I can shave off my long locks and wear underwear as outerwear!—yet the wild and wooly songs were anything but predictable. Now, Cyrus is 30; she's been married and divorced; she's lived through twerking scandals. And her new album lets the world know she's in a new place: Like Madonna, Cyrus is pretty brilliant at stylistic reinvention. It opens with her inescapable, disco-kissed hit "Flowers." An anthem for single women and men, it cleverly serves an empowered response to Bruno Mars' simpering 2013 ballad "When I Was Your Man," with its lyrics about how he should've bought his girl flowers and held her hand and taken her to parties to dance. "I can buy myself flowers," Cyrus declares. "Write my name in the sand … I can take myself dancing/ I can hold my own hand/ Yeah, I can love me better than/ You can." First things first, there is no other song as good as this on the record (or, when it was released, on the radio). But there is plenty to enjoy. With breezy beats that live up to its name, "Island" echoes the theme of "Flowers" like it was the first try of Cyrus getting used to being on her own: "I'm on an island/ Dirty dancing in the sun/ So close to heaven/ But so far from everyone … Am I stranded on an island?/ Or have I landed in paradise?" Dreamy "Rose Colored Lenses"—about wanting to stay in bed with someone rather than let the realities of the outside world ruin what you have—partners a languid melody with '90s alt beats and bouncy bass. "You" is a woozy, soulful slow jam about letting loose: "I wanna drive down to Texas/ flip off my exes/ Get kind of reckless/ and have wild, wild, wild sex under the moon." "Violet Chemistry" reunites Cyrus with Mike WiLL Made-It (who produced Bangerz' excellent, sedative-laced "We Can't Stop"); it's pretty and ready for moving around mindlessly on the dance floor, but has none of the eccentricity of their past collaborations. "Thousand Miles," too, is a wasted opportunity. Folksy Americana with a little Latin flair, it features harmonies from Brandi Carlile in songbird mode. But what a treat it would be to hear these two powerhouses go at it in a real duet. Sia guests on the stomping "Muddy Feet," a "take this love and shove it" number that echoes Justin Timberlake's "Cry Me a River." You can imagine Lady Gaga or even Bonnie Tyler recording "Wonder Woman," but Cyrus absolutely owns the piano ballad. And the closer, a demo of "Flowers" with just her and an electric piano, is chill-inducing. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

For her seventh album, Miranda Lambert takes an unexpected time warp to the 1980s — and has a helluva lot of fun. With stuttering guitar and video game sound effects, "Mess With My Head" is country Pat Benatar and "Track Record" sounds like it's off a John Hughes soundtrack. Meanwhile, the staccato sass of "White Trash" and sweet optimism of "Bluebird" would've fit right in on Country FM, circa 1985. There is no shortage of Lambert's patented confidence on the swaggering "It All Comes Out in the Wash," swamp-bluesy "Holy Water" and "Way Too Pretty for Prison" — a woozy duet with Maren Morris that jokes about killing a cheating husband and includes a chain gang call-and-response. She unleashes her full vocal power on hard-charging rager "Locomotive" and winks at Brothers Osborne's "Tequila Again" with the liquor love song "Tequila Does." But on closer "Dark Bars," Lambert shows that maybe her tough-girl image gets heavy to carry — revealing that while she's "not in pain, not on pills," she can't quit looking for trouble in all the wrong places. © Qobuz