Snider seems to know he'll never top Walker's original recordings, but he sure likes sharing these tunes that he clearly loves and understands, and enough of that soul and belief is caught on tape to make this as purely enjoyable as anything Snider has released in the past decade.

Generals, like What We Lose in the Fire We Gain in the Flood, may use the past as its foundation, but it was put in place by some forward-thinking engineers.

This one doesn't leave you feeling hungry or stuffed, just fully satisfied.

A sophisticated, epic, slow burn of an album, The Temper Trap finds the band taking the creative long view, and updating its bombastic guitar rock with a moody, somewhat synth-oriented sound.

These are organic and rich-sounding tracks that frame Rumer's voice in sparkling piano, cinematic bits of strings, rounded horn parts, the twang of the occasional pedal steel guitar, and even a poignant harmonica line.

These may not be the songs that will ever light up their live sets, but together they form what is easily the best Beach Boys record in 35 years -- and a surprisingly cohesive, reflective, listenable one at that.

All the Hives really need is energy and good songs, and they have enough of both on Lex Hives to bring smiles to their fans' faces.

What the World Needs Now welcomes back a sorely missed S3 with all the rowdy joy intact. Nobody plays it like this.

We'll Be the Moon doesn't always hit the mark, but it's an encouraging first offering proving that Fixers can walk the walk as well as they talk the talk.

Nearly everything on this typically fine set of work, sound like future fan favorites and live staples.

It's a melancholy but never depressing 50 minutes that proves what an under-the-radar talent Jeffreys remains, and indicates that his best work might even be ahead of him.

Anyone open-minded enough to approach the project without any expectations will be quickly swept off into the spacious perennial twilight created by these two master craftsmen.

It's an album that never feels overstuffed, even at its most wandering.

This is a superb album from a master of contemporary pop, and if you like a good melodic song well performed, you're going to love Hit Parade.

Mascis sounds like he's having a blast cranking up the amps with his old buddies, no matter if they're real or imaginary.

It's assuredly the group's most congruent outing, and for nice background music that's not overly engaging or challenging, Diver will satisfy your needs.

Schrader and Rice apply their take on it [minimalism as art] brilliantly throughout Jazz Mind, via a different set of goals and reference points.

There's always a sense that she and Noonan believe they're lowering themselves to sing pop music, that they are better, smarter, funnier than the music they're making...and that alienating smug entitlement is impossible to shake even when the productions are appealing, as they are through half of Hello.

Even with years between albums and the tragic loss of a key contributor, the band's sounds are more locked in, realized, and focused on the same relentless track than ever.

It's a varied yet unified set with lots of high points.

Very nicely done.

Fans of Anda Jaleo will immediately warm to this ten-song set.

While it's hard not to wish there were a surprise or two along the way, the familiar warmth certainly has its charms, too.

DZ Deathrays' roaring rawness and furied energy create a sense of momentum that makes the sound their own.

Hazlewood manages to sound resigned, lightly disgusted, heartbroken, and deathbed wise as he sings his way through these songs, none of which ever hit anywhere near an AM radio station. It's easy to be excited for more volumes in this series after hearing this one.

A fully realized summer record from the street to the beach to the campfire.

What you've got here is basically an excellent soundtrack for reading novels by unhappy authors, or for staring out the window on a drizzly day.

While the world might miss the raw energy and exuberance of their earlier work, the more precise and mature band found on Exister is still as effective, and is definitely one that fans will want to stop and catch up with.

Call Here Come the Bombs a transitional album, one where Gaz is trying out everything he always wanted to do within Supergrass but never could, and next time around he may be able to synthesize all these sounds.

I Predict a Graceful Expulsion feels like a late round in a long fight, and while it may not deliver a knockout punch, it most certainly deserves the win.

Even more so than their debut album, Gallery shows just how impressive Craft Spells can be and sets them up as the synth pop revivalists to beat in 2012.

A Joyful Noise isn't as raw or immediate as any of the Gossip's earlier albums, which makes it a bit of a grower for anyone attached to the band's previous firepower.

While Spirit in the Room matches its predecessor on a track-by-track level, it's only in those last moments that the whole package seems as thematically sound and well designed.

Heaven comes across as a more or less triumphant culmination of the Walkmen's first decade, and the fact that happiness fits the band better than anyone could have expected is just a welcome bonus.

On the surface, Valtari may seem like a step back for the band, but instead of just retreading the past, the album is one of their best; a refined display of their musical power with breathtaking dynamics and enough emotion to flood an ocean.

While Magic Hour may not be as satisfying to fans who just wanna dance as albums like Night Work and Scissor Sisters were, it should please those who enjoy the band's formidable songwriting skills as much as cutting a rug.

Words & Music turns out to be one of the band's most enriching albums, both musically and emotionally.

What We Saw from the Cheap Seats succeeds more often than it frustrates.

It's a great pop record with plenty of guts and a sense of reality that is so often missing from records that sound this fun.

With spot-on production and their most engaging material yet, Grass Widow come into their own on Internal Logic, and have given themselves enough room to grow into something more vivid and lasting than ever before.

The album comes up short in the song department and doesn't quite get by on its abundance of free-love signifiers.

The album is a lush, somewhat orchestral album that finds Gardot delving into various Brazilian, Spanish, and African-influenced sounds -- including bits of samba, tango, bossa nova, and calypso -- that evince her global journey.

2011's Heaven is a stylish, expertly produced contemporary R&B and pop album that showcases Ferguson's emotive, soulful voice.

Another solid and easy to recommend effort in a discography that already has a couple.

At 17 tracks/diary entries, some of which feel like cast-offs from previous sessions, it feels a little bit indulgent, but maybe, considering the subject matter, that was the intention after all.

[The album's] drifting momentum makes 2:54 a lot like taking a trip on a train, allowing listeners to simply sit back and enjoy the scenery without needing to think too much about how they're getting from one end of the journey to the other.

A Kiss Before You Go has its fingers in so many pies that it's unlikely to be appreciated entirely by many, but listened to in small portions, it's difficult not to be enamored by its inventiveness and inherent avant-garde charm.

Their version of soul revival captures the sweat and fire of classic soul music better than almost anyone else in 2012.

These songs may not be self-styled major statements, but they are endearing and enduring, as is Ram itself, which seems like a more unique, exquisite pleasure with each passing year. Hardcore fans will definitely find the big set to be a worthwhile investment.

Natural History [is] something of a stop-start effort rather than an unqualified success, but if Dope Body can keep playing around with elements like the grinding, crackling hook of "Out of My Mind," it'll be interesting to see what a third album can bring.

Its lack of more compelling compositional ideas and some of its ham-fisted production problems are balanced by the fact that Santana is not coasting on his rep any longer; he's trying, and he's playing the hell out of the guitar again.

Heartfelt, ragged, and stoic.

Vol. 1's heavier layers of glimmering guitar, celestial synths, and twinkling percussion flourishes serve more to create distance between Caulfield and the listener than convey that earlier intimacy in a new way.

Though it never feels disjointed, it never feels fully realized, either. In the end, it's hard to tell exactly what the album is aiming for, but taken as another rowdy set of tunes from a living legend, Night & Day delivers from both sides of whichever dichotomy it's grappling with at any given moment.

[Space Homestead] could almost be a summary of their approach rather than taking their work to the next level, but Space Homestead succeeds precisely because MV & EE have so clearly constructed their particular vision.

This is another step into the sonic and lyric terrain plowed on Retribution, but one in which SF's aggressive, thrashing abandon, musical sophistication, and melodies co-exist in near perfect balance.

An impressive debut, Passage has as many great moments as it does moments that suggest future greatness.

Apocalyptic Love never tries too hard, so it winds up satisfying on its own limited scale.

What once was futuristic now sounds nostalgic -- or to borrow a title from another member from the class of 1995, "Brand New You're Retro" -- and that's the appeal of Not Your Kind of People, for better or worse.

Cancer4Cure is about hip-hop like Glengarry Glen Ross was about sales, but these great works transcend their industries, offering solace and inspiration to anyone who would prefer a satisfied mind over a Cadillac Eldorado, or in current terms, an Escalade.

Ya Know? is a loving and generous tribute to a beloved hero of the New York rock scene, but the results never match the energy, focus, and sheer rock & roll fun of even The Ramones' lesser efforts, and it doesn't work as well as Don't Worry About Me.

Opus Primum [contains] striking passages of ethereal beauty.

Those two sounds [folk and country] are the best vehicles for the kind of solipsism Mayer engages in on Born and Raised, where he does his best to sound sorrowful and contrite yet manages to stumble upon his own deep-seated desire to remain a lover-man.

Choice of Weapon is the Cult's finest moment in 23 years; it's the true swaggering heir to the period that birthed Electric and Sonic Temple, and proof that contrary to even Astbury's stated belief in 2009 that the album is far from dead.

The Light the Dead See [is] not just an exciting meeting of troubled minds, but a well designed full-length, offering a persuasive rainy day soundtrack that works even when there's not a cloud in the sky.

Rize of the Fenix does amount to a rousing comeback for Tenacious D: they're back to their old tricks, oblivious to whether the world at large actually cares about their shenanigans.

Too bad it all falls apart so drastically when you factor in Cosentino's disastrous lyrics.

It's not the band's most immediate music, but the album's challenging mix of heartbroken words and aloof sounds rewards patient and repeated listening.

For the most part, Kimbra's invention is a marvel to behold, as her enchanting and swooping jazz-pop tones glide across a veritable feast of sounds

There's a confidence about the performances on the album that make Go! Pop! Bang! a debut full of enthusiasm and promise that will hopefully ring in the beginning of a bright new talent.

What keeps Family Perfume, Vol. 2 interesting even with its dips into overly derivative songcraft is its constantly shifting production.

While it isn't all great, most of it is, and while this isn't the best way for newcomers to acquaint themselves with Fela Kuti's music, it is an essential document for fans.

From the first notes of their sophomore LP Dismania, the grime, depravity, desperation, and sometimes fun of [New York City] come through in screaming waves.

The 13 tracks on Caravana Sereia Bloom reveal an artist who is pushing the envelope of MPB, and is taking no prisoners in the process.

On its face, this album is intended for adventurous listeners who enjoy exploring the classical avant-garde, though deeper investigation may attract others interested in sound sculptures, noise studies, and electronica, who can appreciate the atmospheric colors and shimmering sonorities of these modern masterworks.

Revolutionary stuff and absolutely no fluff, R.A.P. Music is outstanding.

This is a stronger, more mature, and more effective work than one might have expected.

True works as a whole and creates an unbroken mood and feel that is both nocturnal and strangely uplifting.

All Our Reasons is wonderfully executed, and full of excellent tunes, nice improvisational turns, numerous surprises (many of them subtle), and a warm, lively sense of engagement throughout.

Hardcore Joplin fans and historians have an excellent retrospective package which, while illuminating the process of the creation of Pearl, doesn't replace it in the canon.

This feels modern but in a distinctly '90s fashion: the melds and mashups of club music and psychedelia forecast a future straight out of 1996.

Raw but accomplished, tuneful yet noisy, on In the Belly of the Brazen Bull the Cribs are more comfortable with their contradictions than ever.

Even if these songs never grace the charts, they sound like inevitable hits and prove that Lambert is a genuine pop star who has now left American Idol far behind.

An appealingly misshapen collection of classics, contemporaries, and originals.

Ufabulum rises out of the muddle of curious decisions on the several albums before it, offering a true-to-form Squarepusher experience more diverse and ornate than almost any before it.

Biokinetics is a stunning summation of the Basic Channel aesthetic.

Its sly, delicately textured rewards are ones to appreciate and ponder, not to cherish.

While it doesn't quite live up to their early hype, it's still an encouraging first offering, suggesting that they might do with album number two.

They remain faithful to the New Orleans musical ideal in the sense that they turn everything they play into celebratory party music.

City Awakenings feels like it belongs to the short-lived era when Travis were the biggest band in Britain, but it's still a charming return from one of Scottish pop's unsung heroes.

[The last] three songs better illustrate what Kwes. is capable of as a producer and musician, falling somewhere between Thundercat and James Blake, in a cool blend of downtempo, dubstep, and R&B.

If you think that the "rock" part of "indie rock" has been dying a slow death, look to Screaming Females as your lighthouse during these dark, guitar-less times and rejoice as you air shred along with all that Ugly has to offer.

Without jettisoning the basic stylistic minimalism and scarcity of artistic means which makes footwork such a thrillingly raw, blunt, and immediate form, Traxman manages to subtly expand and redefine the possibilities of the genre.

An EP might have worked, but apparently Grinderman had to milk it for all it was worth.

Hair represents the best possible outcome of the collaborative record.

Suckers have turned in a respectable album of big sounds and strong melodies.

The majority of the album places Actress closer to the superbly creative, evocative, and mind-altering terrain inhabited by Oneohtrix Point Never, with detectable traces of early-'80s Roedelius and Moebius, as well as Autechre.