Before the Dawn Heals Us is ambitious for sure, an emphatic step forward from the linger of Dead Cities.

Early Day Miners do a wonderful job of working off of their influences and creating an indie rock that sounds familiar, which may seem tiring to some, but is great for others who feel that someone needs to continue and expand that sound.

The only shortfall that could be noted is that Trials & Errors is a touch long, clocking in at 72 minutes, but fans of Molina, along with the audience, who you can tell had a wonderful time at this show, will feel that this is a bonus.

As the accompaniment to game play, Chaos Theory is a standout in its field; just don't expect it to be as memorable as the typical Amon Tobin effort.

Take Fountain is a solid Wedding Present album, one that will satisfy those who have been following Gedge all along.

As a cohesive work, The Beekeeper holds together better than nearly any of Tori's more ambitious albums, but there's a certain artsy distance that keeps this from being as emotionally immediate or as memorable as her first two records.

A big part of what makes A Question of Temperature so engaging is that, like Travels in the South, it's the work of a musician who isn't rejecting his past experiences but making something new of them.

This is a subdued, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling kind of album, and coming after the majestic peaks and valleys of Shivering King and Others it initially feels a little disappointing.

At worst, it feels unfinished, and at best, it feels like a mixtape cobbled together from mostly choice tracks but without that overseer's polish.

Spektor is an engaging performer throughout the album, and despite her arty quirks, she's never pretentious.

The curiously lifeless production means that several listens are necessary before the songs' charms are fully revealed.

The genre-blending charm and sweetness that made Brushfire Fairytales and On and On so nice doesn't change that much, but does it really have to change?

This is the folky, bluesy, jangly-guitar-slinging sound of somebody who has made a practice of walking in boots three sizes too big for so long that they finally fit, and it delivers enough promise to inspire big ideas about what could happen when he outgrows them.

Employment is an uneven but still very promising debut that suggests that one day the Kaiser Chiefs will pull off something even more ambitious.

A cohesive blend of intelligent '60s rock and power pop that sounds like an extension of New Pornographer A.C. Newman's Slow Wonder as played by Cheap Trick.

Although it wouldn't hurt if there were more "party" (the celebratory kind, not the political one) in Silent Alarm, it's still a fine debut album with a lot of passion and polish; it's hard not to respect, if not fully embrace, the intensity and integrity of Bloc Party's music.

Several of the instrumentals recapture something of the Prefuse 73 magic, but Herren isn't entirely successful even when in cut-and-splice mode.

Make Do With What You Got sounds like an overly anxious attempt to re-create the sound of vintage R&B sides that gets the surfaces right but never quite captures the heart and soul of the music.

For Cave fans who have been patiently and exhaustively compiling this stuff in all sorts of dodgy ways, this set is a righteous archivist's gift.

Odyssey makes their transition from flag-waving fashionistas to serious, rewarding band smooth and entirely believable.

[A] knack for re-creating the already re-created sounds of their peers keeps rearing up on Hurricane Bar, and it docks the album points in the genuineness department.

A Few Steps More balances the intimate charm of Monade's previous work with a slightly more ambitious, but still off-the-cuff, feel that should please Sadier fans.

Autechre certainly aren't launching any new styles, and there's no innovative music to be heard here, but Untilted does represent the duo returning to the green fields of their youth after a few years sowing their wild oats.

A record of quiet fire, fueled by an electric/acoustic guitar dynamic and the determined waver in Molina's vocals, which have strengthened considerably since Songs: Ohia.

This isn't edgy work by any means -- and for as hooky and chorus-driven as it is, it's music that becomes memorable through repeated plays, never quite catching hold upon the first listen -- but it's more colorful and well-constructed than a lot of contemporary mainstream rock in the mid-2000s, and it's arguably more appealing than Matchbox Twenty's earnest guitar rock.

Here Come the Choppers may not win the songwriter many new fans, but because of its consistency and terminal uniqueness, it will certainly keep his fan base coming back for more.

Ultimately, too much of Forever Hasn't Happened Yet is made up of songs that don't quite hit their target, either musically or emotionally; it's full of fine moments, but doesn't cohere into a solid whole.

D.U.M.E.'s witchy, heavily eyelinered approach may appeal more to fans of bands like Numbers or Ersatz Audio's own Tamion 12 Inch than admirers of Adult.'s normally sleek, distant neo-electro, but the harsh, nervous allure of tracks like "Don't Talk (Redux)" and "Hold Your Breath" is undeniable.

The Blind Boys of Alabama still know how to get to the soul of the matter.

While the music here isn't as good as that on Bachelor, the strict structure does help give The Forgotten Arm direction, helping shape it into one of her more consistent albums.

He isn't really trying to break new ground on this relatively accessible collection of concise, melodic songs, but he is trying to add something to his influences instead of settling for a nostalgia trip.

There are too many stumbles and missed opportunities to consider the album anything but disappointing.

Forget the easy Gibbard/Tamborello comparisons and look here if you seek more mope with your Moog.

Fans of Radiohead's more melancholic moments on Pablo Honey and Keane's chart singles should enjoy the bliss that is Let There Be Morning.

The left turn Hebden has taken into jumpy Krautrock with 2005's Everything Ecstatic will make listeners yearn for the clever, nuanced productions he turned in on Pause and Rounds.

The overall tone of the album, and the fact that they have made two records in a row like it, might be enough to chase away many of the band's original fans for good, but those who stick around will be treated to an album of fine, fizzy adult punk-pop with a mean streak and a broken heart.

Visuals are such a crucial aspect of their performances that the set will naturally fall short of making you feel as if you are there.

The arrangements are much tighter than ever and cover up whatever lyrical deficiencies the charismatic, freewheeling attitude of the band doesn't.

Derivative as it may be, it's done so well that it's awfully hard to bash.

Okkervil River continue to deliver the quality of Down the River of Golden Dreams, and though sonic evolution is barely existent from that recording, perhaps it doesn't need to be; certainly Sheff's songwriting still floats above that of his peers.

All in all it's as essential a piece of O'Connor's history as anything in her catalog.

Poppy, '80s-tinged, and hooky as hell, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's debut certainly makes for pleasant listening.

At 77 minutes and 23 tracks, the sprawling album is weighed down by some filler and redundant numbers, but as a step forward for a party band riding on whatever the Dirty South sound of the moment is, it's surprisingly bold and accomplished.

There's no question of Sonic Youth's continued influence on Kinski. But Alpine Static is a progression within the context of the band's own discography, and that's important.

If the tech-savvy "By(e) Now" feels like a leftover from the more experimental debut, Statistics sophomore full-length has enough real songs to qualify it as an anomaly.

Honeycomb is steeped in tradition, yet manages to buck it at the same time; while not all Pixies and Frank Black fans will appreciate its mellow maturity, it's an intimate treat for those who follow its lead.

Body of Song ultimately feels more like an attempt by Mould to please both his audience and himself than a coherent and confident effort.

While Hiatt sounds soulful as all get out (as per usual) on this set, the lingering mood is often downbeat and introspective.

No Business is one of the least surprising albums Negativland has yet done, but one entity's repetition is another's source of continuing inspiration, and the end results are familiarly entertaining.

When it works, like on the rousing, sentimental opener "Walter Reed," "On Automatic" and "Mary Lynn," Penn knocks the ball into the bleachers, but there's an over-flow of mid-tempo pieces about halfway through that bring the record to a standstill.

Musically, Houses and Homes is mostly stellar.

Those who were left disappointed by ['Face2Face'] will probably be happy to have the Face of old back with Grown & Sexy, a back-to-basics album that sounds a lot more natural in comparison.

A disappointment mostly in comparison to the seemingly out-of-nowhere brilliance of La Maison de Mon Reve, Noah's Ark might fail to charm those not already bewitched by that album, but it won't break the spell for devoted fans.

Once Upon a Little Time may not be as immediately gripping as How Animals Move, but it grows on you, slowly and insistently, creating its terrain.

Perhaps it's a little disappointing on some level that Love Kraft is merely a very good Super Furry Animals [album], with few surprises outside of its alluring sleekness.

American Analog Set have been accused of writing the same song over and over - and over - again, and Set Free isn't immune to that.

Conceptual plots aside, this is an album that finally lives up to the heavy metal promise and unapologetically delivers the goods with a full head of steam.

Both a total curveball and pleasant surprise.

You only have to do a little trimming to make Clothes Drop one of his best.

Despite all of its strengths, neither the recording nor the songs are as memorable or as fully realized as his late-'80s/early-'90s comeback records -- Freedom, Ragged Glory, and Harvest Moon -- let alone his classic '70s work.

Gold and Green may be the band's most approachable album, but as with all their releases, it's a charming reminder that experimental music doesn't have to sound like it was hard work to make.

You Could Have It So Much Better probably would've been better if Franz Ferdinand had waited until they had a batch of songs as consistent as their first album, but as it stands, it's still pretty good.

Dynamite singing, a killer band, and wonderful material do a fine album make.

If you hack off the misguided finish, Fall Heads Roll proves they can still live up to their legend.

One thing that remains unchanged, to no surprise whatsoever, is the enduring vitality of the material.

The Campfire Headphase lacks the transcendent grace that made Music Has the Right to Children and even Geogaddi classics in their field.

The album cements the band as a love-them-or-hate-them proposition, but the Fiery Furnaces remain true to themselves.

With Descended Like Vultures, Rogue Wave have become just another indie rock band, one that has delivered a strong album without a weak song on it, but a real band just the same.

The skimpy run time is noticeable and downright perplexing coming from an album that ambitiously delivers otherwise.

This is a gorgeous recording, one that in a very intimate way opens up an entire universe of possibility for understanding, integration, and brokenness. A fitting tribute indeed.

Pair Akron/Family with Angels of Light and what you get, apologies to the label-sensitive, is Grade A art rock.

A debut that sounds a lot like New York urbanites the Rachel's and the Clogs, but a little more dangerous.

While she succeeds rather handsomely on those modest terms, it's more than a little odd to hear Madonna scaling back her ambition and settling for less rather than hungering for more.

Somewhat more reminiscent of Rage Against the Machine than the Beastie Boys or Eminem, the group... is as good as any rap outfit at expressing anger; in fact, they're more eloquent than most.

Overall Ladd has made a divine album indeed.

Scab Dates is yet another intriguing window into the Mars Volta's world, instead of just a live album holdover.

The Mendoza Line have mined this kind of socio-political territory before, but never with so much fatalistic maturity.

While Amarantine will do nothing to win over the wrongly pegged new age artist's many detractors, longtime fans will find enough moments of serendipitous pleasure to hold them over for another five years.

The band's third record is consistent, but that also means that there's no standout song that can bring these guys into the limelight.

A lovely collection of Sunday morning melancholy that's as gentle as it is weary.

We Are Scientists come off well in being both snide and playful. Finding that balance is what makes With Love and Squalor a solid debut.

The sunshiny pop of Sun, Sun, Sun is more magical in comparison to Me First. It features some of Sennett's most brilliant work to date, and the band's overall summery sound is much more cohesive here.

It's a moody, atmospheric listen that never gets quite as melancholy as it suggests and holds together better than any Rilo Kiley album to date.

Though he fits somewhere between R. Kelly and Ginuwine, Foxx has more than enough personality and talent to defend his music against accusations of opportunism.

While the album's ambitions occasionally get the better of the actual music, For the Season's intermittent brilliance is worth digging and waiting for.

For Screening Purposes is worth checking out for those who like their music prickly but with an undercurrent of pop to it, too.

Lights and Sounds' good songs are very good, and the album ends up being the band's most accomplished work yet.

The sound of For Me, It's You, is less strident than that of the band's previous offerings, but it's edgier and digs deeper into older musics and styles.

If his band had either a stronger musical viewpoint or more kinetic energy, or if their songs didn't play like a heap of riffs, such provincial shortcomings would be transcended by the sheer force of the music. But the music, while good, is not great.

The bottom line on Hello Waveforms is that it may seem dated to terminal hipsters, but for everyone else it is small yet exceptionally well crafted.

A promising, satisfying debut.

If this is the relatively bummed-out Minus 5 album, it's still full of great songs played with genuine enthusiasm and imagination.

The Prefuse of past years is replaced by plenty of airy distortion (reminiscent of his work with the Books and his side project, Savath + Savalas), and nods to the hip-hop beatwork of his early Warp records.

A deeply satisfying hard rock record.

It may never fly in the conservatory, but the music of Clogs is sure to make the bar set feel a little more cultured.

Generally good but occasionally uneven.

It's much more stripped-down and loose compared to the glossy polish of The Joy of Sing-Sing.

[Moffat] exposes a seething rage that was only occasionally revealed on the earlier albums. In the minds of some Arab Strap fans, this is a breakthrough; others, sadly, hear a betrayal.