Khaos Legions shouldn't be dismissed as the result of creative burnout--there's plenty of scorching metal here, and fans will be very pleased.

Those looking to rock out won't find many headbanging opportunities here, but Nothing Is Wrong works well as driving music, particularly if the scenery outside your windshield matches the sepia-toned music.

Given the album's split nature, it's not quite as cohesive as most Quintron albums, but it manages to represent the fringes of his sound, as well as the heart of it, very well.

Castlemania does sound like the product of several happily productive days in this band's life; this album sounds less sinister and more playful than the bulk of their previous output, and if a lot of this is still going to seem chaotic and off-putting to anyone not flying a similar freak flag, it's an easier way in to Thee Oh Sees' curious musical world than any of their albums to date.

Go Tell Fire to the Mountain is surprisingly just a little too ordinary to be considered the groundbreaker many anticipated.

With folks like Currensy and French Montana lending features, along with a producers list that goes from Lex Luger to Lee Majors, the album is stuffed as it could be, but Ross has always been a wizard when it comes to picking high-profile friends that deliver.

Even after a decade away, Atari Teenage Riot are still equally angry and entertaining, and Is This Hyperreal? just may be one of their definitive statements.

All in all, it's clear that chart-driven pop circa the second decade of the millennium rarely gets much better than LMFAO on this stand-out album.

Goodbye Bread sounds more like a "real album" than anything Ty Segall has done to date, but not so much so that it robs him of the loose-limbed soul that makes him memorable.

Only bummer for loyal fans is that five of these tracks are repeated from the Internet Leaks EP, but ignore that redundancy, and Al remains the undisputed king of the parody song.

It could use a couple throw-you-around-the-room rockers in the vein of Turn Me Loose's "Runnin'" and "Knockin'," although some listeners will be so struck by the sustained high level of confidence and grace that it won't be an issue.

That hint of edge, of literal weight, adds to the collage of tones on a piece like "Canyon Meadows" or acts as an undertow on the flow of "New Pures," helping to transform that feeling of contemplation while not actually crushing it in any sense.

It's an excellent introduction to the modern Western Saharan sound, and also a fine addition for existing fans of the group.

Other than the annoyances listed, Don't Blame the Stars is an enjoyable, fairly well-executed album of decent Americana songs. No more, no less.

What their return does bring is that unquantifiable "getting the band back together" feeling and all of the excitement that comes with old friends getting back together to do what they do best.

While those who miss the band's old orchestral pop sound may cavil, Twist Again represents the opening of a promising new path for Bodies of Water.

In another regard, Rave On Buddy Holly is quite different. Encouraged by producer Randall Poster, the 19 artists involved do not settle for mere replications of Buddy's hits, they play fast and loose, sometimes radically reinterpreting the original.

This shifting back and forth between tradition and avant-garde tradition, as it were, defines much of the rest of the album -- call it maturing or call it other interests, but it's a comfortable enough listen, as appropriate for the schizophrenic beast that still gets labeled indie rock as anything else.

The mellow is never harshed, and the promise of sunny weekend stoner music from the '80s is maintained the whole way through.

Maybe one rapper in 1,000 can rap effectively in 6/8, and Wiley is one of them.

The end result is an album on a shaded, comfortable grayscale, music that's suitably mature yet sidesteps stultifying notions of middlebrow class.

It seems that no matter what he adds or subtracts, Jesu's recordings, have a defined feel that is, though lyrically and texturally beautiful, somewhat two-dimensional. That said, Ascension remains a deeply satisfying recording.

This kind of contrast between light and dark makes Leveler a wonderfully dynamic album that is musically engaging with mercifully few bass bombs. Theological differences aside, metal fans would do well to give this one a chance.

While its relentless chirpiness may be a little too twee for some, Eliza Doolittle is still a beguiling debut that would undoubtedly have found an audience even without the benefit of her showbiz background.

Panic of Girls rushes forth on a sleek new wave disco pulse that's entirely unconcerned about whether '80s retro is in style this season or not. This is fashionable music existing outside the realm of fashion.

Haley's output can be enjoyed in one-track doses or complete immersion, and it often inspires YouTube users to upload unofficial videos incorporating fuzzy, dreamlike images from early- to mid-'80s television and film clips.

An easy recommendation for its obvious audience, but Together/Apart is a bit more than that as well, giving the genre of indie hip-hop some mass appeal whenever it decides to wild out.

As a whole, the sophomore album is inconsistent, but when being eccentric is such a large part of a group's appeal, this is to be expected. Notwithstanding a few weak moments, many tracks are potentially their best.

As an album, Standing on the Rooftop may not be as striking as its predecessor, but perhaps it wasn't meant to be. It is a seemingly effort that pushes the familiar toward an uncertain future where pop genres cease to need to exist at all.

Joe Ely is still one of the best things the Lone Star State has to offer, and Satisfied at Last shows he's not about to stop making albums worth hearing, and still finding things to say within the style he's made his own.

Samuel Flynn Scott's vocals often come across as nondescript but aim to be familiar rather than remarkable, suiting the sense of easy immediacy here -- the appeal of being what you expect.

On their tenth studio album, In Flames officially complete their transition from Swedish melodic death metal pioneers to unpredictable Swedish progressive pop/rock/neo-classical metal innovators... It's as epic as Scandinavia is cold.

With Collider, Roberts proves himself an essential part of the R&R landscape.

It's the more familiar works which ensure that Basement Jaxx vs. Metropole Orkest is an uplifting, feel-good record which manages to straddle the unlikely worlds of classical and progressive house with ease.

An affecting, dreamlike, decayed din that incorporates voice samples twisted to such an extent that they sound sourced from torture victims and brokenhearted zombies.

Pop music styles change faster than they wear out, and Mohager convincingly makes the case that there is more to say in the music of the '80s, even if fashion has banished it to its own radio formats and nostalgia tours.

It's this quality that makes the album not just an easy recommendation for listeners old and new, but one of their most fun, accessible, and solid albums since Factory Showroom.

Big Talk may not have rock star sparkle, but it walks the walk when it comes to solidly entertaining songs.

Be prepared for an experience somewhere between a star-studded soundtrack and a DJ-helmed mixtape.

On Perfect Darkness, Fink sticks to the excellent template he developed around 2006, and in its best moments, the record offers sounds on par with anything off his previous two records: the same taut folky guitar, the same delicate grooves, and the same quiet, reserved vocals all rolled into one laconic, low-key package.

Emotion-wracked, ultra-melodic, and filled with jams (both fast and slow), this is an impressive debut from a band that could easily end up reaching some seriously lofty heights.

Free Time is not unlike Mondo Bizarro or Animal Boy; not exactly a late-career triumph, but evidence that the band can go through the paces with skill and commitment, and if this isn't likely to make anyone a convert, longtime fans won't walk away disappointed.

While it doesn't break any new ground and remains firmly entrenched in contemporary country's geography, it evokes the riled-up, bluesy hard country rock sound of Hank Jr. enough that it separates Church from the genre's other practitioners who are attempting the same thing.

LP1 doesn't always achieve a balance between the two extremes, not to the extent Stone and Stewart desires, as some of the ballads are a little formless and some of the funk a little too restricted, while some of Joss' posturing is a little affected, but it has more moments that work than anything she's done since her actual debut in 2003.

Rival Sons are a power trio plus singer in the traditional style, who might have made this album after listening to the first Led Zeppelin LP over and over for a day or two... Anyone who likes [60's hard rock] should ... check them out.

Dubstep's increasingly Americanized impact can be sensed in the bass wobbles of "Black Nails," while trance's long shadow in turn crops up in "Real Is a Feeling." Not to mention the title and feeling of "Trancegender"--but why not go all out, after all?

The Kickback is a cool, slick, and easy party for the most part, with the occasional ballad slowing things down a bit too much.

Tara Nevins, a member of Donna the Buffalo, released her debut solo album, Mule to Ride, in 1999, and only in 2011, 12 years later, got around to her second, Wood and Stone. It's been worth the wait, however.

For all the musical adventure and the growth it reflects, Arrows & Anchors is Fair to Midland's finest effort to date.

This flirtation with mass appeal is interesting for those with even a bit of an indie-hop bent, and hearing Sole working with a less forgiving rulebook just makes the album's successes more massive.

Lonely Twin takes a sweetly woozy way through its length, at once enjoyable enough while still feeling like a recapitulation more than a way forward. Still, even with that caveat, it's pleasant enough listening.

There's a pervasive sense of mutual affection and musical respect throughout this album that makes it a pleasure to listen to even in those moments when its other elements don't quite come together perfectly.

Not all music is obligated to provide happy, cheerful escapism; dark lyrics certainly have their place as well, and dark lyrics are the rule on And Hell Will Follow Me, which falls short of remarkable but is nonetheless a solid and inspired, if derivative, debut from A Pale Horse Named Death.

Proud to Be Here adds to Adkins' well-deserved reputation as a stylist and an artist who stands apart.

An audacious spectacle of vacuous pomposity as well as one of tremendous lyrical depth, Watch the Throne is a densely packed amalgamation of what Jay-Z has termed "ignorant shit" and "thought-provoking shit," with creative productions that are both top of the line and supremely baffling.

The nostalgia-heavy lyrical bent of some songs can read either sweet or cringe-worthy, depending on your birth date and sensitivity to sentiment.

Don't expect things to change much as the duo's edits are minimal beasts built from breakdowns and bridges, but if you're in the mindset, this is chopped post-disco heaven with Prince, electro, new wave, and all things '80s swirling in the clean mix.

With Two of Everything, Brian Olive is two for two in making smart, distinctive albums that push his blues and R&B influences in unexpected, compelling directions, matching and building on the strength of his debut.

Dirty Jeans and Mudslide Hymns shows that John Hiatt is well served by a more hands-on production, though one might also imagine Kevin Shirley isn't necessarily the best person to do the job.

The ambient stuff is nice, too -- different than what Fruit Bats fans are used to, perhaps, but proof that Johnson knows how to stretch his legs without losing his balance.

He's not flashy yet he's not boring, he's laid-back and assured, a modern guy who knows his roots but is happy to be in the present, and it's hard not to smile along with the guy as he sings.

Texture is ultimately the dominant force on the album, no matter the volume or source, and hearing how the possibilities are explored song for song within the context of contemplation and hunkering down against a kind of impending threat can be very rewarding.

Listeners will hear the echoes of the better-known recordings of these songs, even if Souther's own performances of them sound like they may have set the template for Ronstadt or the Eagles to embroider on.

The result is rich and exciting without becoming overwhelming; it's loaded with charm as well as fine tunes, and that combination makes it a delight that's well worth hearing.

However understated the band aesthetic may seem on Sympathy, Scattered Trees nonetheless have a nice group spark on record that only benefits from Eiesland's own specific vision.

As an EP, Middle States is an interesting paradox, presenting a collection of songs that are simultaneously concise and exploratory, expanding their sound without meandering, and managing to do it all without feeling overly restrained.

Oh Land's international debut is an eclectic, nocturnal mix of club music, dance, and electro-pop.

If the basic balance remains unchanged, the result has been a sound just enough of the War on Drugs' own as a result, which gets stronger and even more droned out and powerful as the album continues.

Marble Son is still dominated by elegant, wistful songs that sound like they were conceived on a mountaintop and set adrift to float in a cloudless sky, dipping down just long enough for listeners to get an earful of the airy delights they offer.

The songs on Ruining It for Everybody don't feel slapped together, and despite the fact that they don't seem like they should work, the band pulls off their sound well. Add the album's concise running time to the mix and you have an album that works like Ritalin for anyone with a serious case of heavy metal ADD.

Three albums in, the young singer/songwriter sounds brave and confident yet breakable and guarded, and while A Creature I Don't Know may not be the bolt from the blue fans and critics were hoping for, it's most certainly storm born.

Those of centrist or conservative political persuasions may decide this is a socialist document. Let them. For Morello and others, this recording claims songs from organized labor history, which are more relevant now than ever; he includes his own contributions to it as well.

The Flood, despite all of its familiar trappings, manages to breathe (as in forcibly inflate) some new life into the genre.

They are moving on from such early influences as Jimmy Eat World to a more sophisticated, if still forceful sound as they get more playing under their belts.

It's a little much to call it Steely Dan in terms of contrast but there's something not too far removed going on.

Watch Me Dance is a triumphant speaker-blasting party record that cements Toddla T's reputation as the U.K.'s bass wonderkid.

They may not be as confident here as they were on their first album, but La Liberacion's best moments are direct and fun, and there's no shame in that.

The Blackbird Diaries isn't for everyone: it's mainstream but not sterile; it celebrates roots music without overly indulging it or neglecting pop; in short, it's catchy as hell and better than any Stewart solo project to date.

Concrete is modern and polished, yet makes no attempt to disguise the influence of the Texas country tradition in its heartfelt performances.

lthough the arrangements and material are monochromatic, What Matters Most isn't a failure by any means, thanks to Barbra Streisand's interpretive skills (as well as her flair for drama and her ever-beautiful voice). That said, this is not a record for those who love precocious Streisand best (Funny Girl, Hello, Dolly!).

Ultimately, the Red Hot Chili Peppers are served well by that professionalism; they're long past the point of proving themselves, they're now longer here for a party, they're rock & roll lifers, and I'm with You illustrates they can settle into maturity convincingly.

Songs and Stories suggests he's coasting just a bit, and though he's still one of the true legends of the Texas songwriting community, this simply doesn't capture him at the top of his game.

For anyone interested in underground music from the later '60s through the mid-'70s, Love Has Made Me Stronger is recommended listening.

Bombay Bicycle Club's 2011 album A Different Kind of Fix is a melodically compelling work that builds upon the band's eclectic guitar-based indie rock sound.

Packing so many WTFs into one ten-song record is hardly fair, a bit reckless, and ultimately (amazingly) successful.

Perhaps Ghost on the Canvas doesn't revisit every high in Campbell's history, but it pays honor to his legacy and feels like an appropriate and subtly moving farewell.

This frantic release gives them a kind of spastic, jagged sound that puts them somewhere between Lightning Bolt and an actual bolt of lightning, and makes Tripper an album that's more likely to wear listeners out physically than mentally.

On Am I the Enemy?, the guys consolidate their strengths and clean up the mess that Lonely Road left behind, focusing instead on the sort of emo-influenced alt-rock that reaches for the rafters without losing sight of the ground.

Designated chillout areas and other blue rooms will find Fever Dream a worthwhile soundtrack, while longtime fans get that wistful vagabond indie-hop style once again, only this time it's transmitted from deep, blissful space.

Ghostbird is a summer album for adventurous folk fans, engaging on its first run-thru but packed with enough twists and turns to warrant repeated listens.

If the livelier numbers initially make the strongest impression -- whether it's Al Anderson's sunny pop opener "Love's Gonna Make It Alright" or a pair of fleet-footed blues in "Lone Star Blues" and "Blue Marlin Blues" -- it's the introspective moments that anchor the album and lend it a measure of gravity.

The good news is that this album proves they are top-level purveyors of pop. The bad is that the eccentricity that once flowed freely feels forced.

For longtime fans, Celestial Electric is about as good as one could have hoped for the coming together of two like-minded musicians.

The rest of the album, despite a few detours into semi-indulgent, atonal glitch that shakes the fluidity of the record yet never really derails the train, keeps looking forward, hoping to find a light at the end of the tunnel, while knowing full well that it's only the first of many.

Ultimately, Grouplove's Never Trust a Happy Song is a cohesive if ramshackle crowd-pleaser, full of melodic double-lead vocals, handclaps, ringing electric guitars, and staccato synth parts that tips a hat to '80s dance-rock while still retaining the band's obvious love of experimental '60s folk-rock.

Few current bluegrass acts sing with the command and authority Lauderdale brings to his performances, and fewer still have a set of songs at their disposal as good as what Lauderdale and Hunter have composed for Reason and Rhyme, and it's another impressive installment in what's becoming one of the most interesting partnerships in roots music today.

Country Hits: Bluegrass Style doesn't signal any kind of new direction for him and that may well be the album's most comfortable strength.

A more concise and consistent outing than their debut, Hollow reaffirms that while Cut Off Your Hands may not be innovators, they're still quite good at what they do.