Neck of the Woods is an even more infectious and nuanced affair.

Definitely an album that's worth listening to on repeat, not only out of necessity, but because it's a refreshingly simple, straightforward album in an increasingly processed and affected era.

Thanks to Zdar's sure-handed co-production, Bainbridge's skills at synthesizing the past and present, and a batch of songs that really stick to you after a couple listens, World, You Need a Change of Mind ends up being a very pleasing, very interesting record.

Lazer Sword are in full command on Memory, an album that finds them coming into their own as well as exploring new territory.

Strangeland never really lives up to its mysterious title, as there's nothing on it that doesn't feel willfully nostalgic, but like any good plate of comfort food it satisfies in a way that more adventurous meals never truly can.

Perhaps it is a bit stuffy and hidebound for art rock, but taken as a theatrical production, it's adventurously cerebral, an album to ponder if not quite embrace.

It is his most ambitious and focused work, and combines not only instruments and musical traditions, but cultural sonances and histories as well.

Like a lot of career overviews, this is somewhere between an introduction and a collector's item, but it initially retailed for the price of a single disc and holds an edge over the marginally less expensive A Collection.

Even if A Collection is by the numbers, they are great numbers and rounded out by some intriguing collaborations (with Brian Eno, High Contrast, and such) along with powerful live cuts.

A compelling and rich move toward adulthood from one of the underground's most prolonged and complicated adolescents.

California death-grinders Cattle Decapitation will never be accused of subtlety, but there are moments on the typically grotesque Monolith of Inhumanity, their seventh long-player, that are unabashedly melodic.

Weather Systems stands with Anathema's finest work.

Think "winning formula" instead of "formulaic" and you're close to the value of Evolution, which along with Ferry Corsten's equally great WKND makes "trance ain't dead" the unofficial motto of 2012.

Here We Go Magic move between more full-on hyperactivity in that vein from songs like "Make Up Your Mind" and "I Believe in Action" to the easier-going grooves of "Alone But Moving," but too often they don't do much with that.

A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, which is the great trick behind this persuasive album, offering a serious argument with plenty of hot buttered soul.

Stars and Satellites manages to find that elusive balance between workmanlike precision and 3:00 a.m. vulnerability.

Despite the title, Self-Taught Learner was anything but the work of an amateur, and here Trullie is clearly the queen of her post-punk castle.

Much more than a stop-gap substitute that will be forgotten by the time the next Hot Chip full-length comes along; Yesterday stands on its own terms as one of the finest dance/electro-pop records of the year.

Harmonicraft finds Torche taking off at full speed with an album packed full of driving riffs and soaring melody that's going to have an easy time convincing fans that the band hasn't lost a step after losing a member.

Generation Freakshow is still an impressive return to form from a band whose members sound revitalized and determined to prove they're not a spent force.

Evans the Death is a stunning debut that may not change the way you think about indie rock, but the band plays with so much passion and the songs are so good, it doesn't matter that maybe you've heard it (in some form) before.

Listeners willing to devote an hour--rather than a rushed five-minute scan of the first 30 seconds of each cut--to this unassuming little gem will likely want to revisit it again and again.

This is the kind of album that can fully define her sound, but is still multifaceted and well crafted enough to be exciting.

This album is one of his most classicist, not classical, pop records and in that sense, Out of the Game is definitely a winner.

It's not for the faint of heart, but anyone partial to heavy, brooding, uncompromising music will likely be gladly carried away by it.

While it may lack the dark, muscular, apocalyptic machismo that permeates the majority of metal's subgenres, it's more often than not a hell of a lot of fun.

Drokk: Music Inspired by Mega-City One is a completely satisfying project on its own, but it's also so good that it practically cries out for a film to be made to fit its cues.

Reptar aren't afraid to grow up but they're gonna have fun getting there, and with Body Faucet they succeed in doing both.

With Novak's world-class sneer resting on top, this is a good set of bad vibes, and rock & roll malcontents should put this album on their want lists pronto.

This is bold pop-rap at an "Arena" level, and while partying like a rock star means cohesiveness takes a hit, Strange Clouds is still thrilling and persuasive.

She's meant to be be a superstar and she's never seemed as comfortable with her calling as she does on Blown Away.

It's Talbot's most intimate collection of songs yet; even if The Western Lands was more overtly ambitious, this may be the best gateway into Gravenhurst's world--and it was well worth the wait.

By placing so much emphasis on the stylish ever-shifting surfaces of its production, Little Broken Hearts never quite sinks in emotionally. Norah Jones may be pouring her heart out but it's been given an elegantly detailed sculpture that camouflages her pain.

An immediately engaging debut, Seasons of My Soul has the potential to repeat the crossover success of Norah Jones' Come Away with Me and Amy Winehouse's Back to Black, its unquestionable authenticity signaling the arrival of an equally timeless and unaffected voice.

It's all arranged like a well-sequenced album, with some tracks slightly altered for the sake of maintaining a steady flow. No energy swing is jarring, yet it's no sonic flatland. It suits its purpose with a dark, warm glow.

Though there's no arguing the strength of her vocals on Long Distance, comparing these takes with the originals casts greater light on what she's lost rather than what she's gained in her stylistic transition.

Fear Fun's deft mix of folly and grandeur strikes a nice balance between the over the top hippie shenanigans of Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros and the vapid, calculated debauchery of Lana Del Ray.

All told, Born Villain is as valiant and exciting an effort as the group has come up with in years.

Nootropics is so mired in restraint it will fail to grab many ears on the first go-round. However, once listeners get their heads around the sound, it's a definite on-repeat player.

Grey's voice is much grittier live than on records, it is a catalyst for the band to build upon and they do so whenever presented with the opportunity.

On their Rounder debut, the band continue to challenge their fans with 11 new tunes that show off their growing playing and songwriting skills.

Older Than My Old Man Now contains some excellent work when Wainwright's not putting on false bravado or bullshitting, but ultimately, this is for his hardcore fans rather than casual ones.

The Money Store is an important record that's also compelling, loaded with kinetic blows against the empire and fully stuffed with that attractive maverick spirit.

Ultimately, there is a musical sophistication and higher maturity level to the Wanted's sound than you might expect.

Capping it off is the giant, bright soul that fuels "Sidewalk Memorial," and while that's a worthy exit for a project so impossibly huge, everything between the bookends is thrown about.

When compared to the Revenue Retrievin' onslaught, which was sorted into thematic sets (Day, Night, etc.), these unwieldy Block Brochures come off as a hyphy data dump, leaving all executive production up to the listener.

You've got good set track by track, but compared to his Revenue Retrievin' onslaught, which was sorted into thematic sets (Day, Night, etc.), these unwieldy Block Brochures come off as a hyphy data dump, leaving all executive production up to the listener.

This is as dynamic a record as Benson has ever made, but trades some of the homespun charm and young hunger of his earlier work for a more expensive-sounding studio sheen.

Diamond Rugs is a lot more fun and less self-conscious than what Deer Tick usually delivers.

There may not be anything particularly revelatory about June 2009, but it's a nice batch of tunes and anyone who's new to Bundick's work will appreciate this glimpse into the early days.

Contradictions are nothing new for Jack White but he's never been as emotionally direct as he is here, nor has he been as musically evasive, and that dichotomy makes Blunderbuss a record that only seems richer with increased exposure.

They sound better and more focused than ever.

Rock and Roll Night Club is a confusing record, but not a mess. On the contrary, it's so deeply calculated that the intentions and possible motivations of its songs are likely to be lost on most.

While not everything works on Let the People Speak, it has enough originality and energy that it bodes well for wherever Clark and Black want to go next.

An enjoyable creation that, despite its clear roots, has its own logic and general aesthetic.

The whole feeling of The Shadow Gallery is something that is pretty familiar on the one hand, yet polished and assembled into something strong on its own, surprisingly alive and distinct from the get-go.

It's the closest the band has come yet to something genuinely uplifting and irony-free -- no small feat for these tongue-in-cheek provocateurs, but This Machine suggests that the Dandy Warhols are actually improving with age, which is an even bigger accomplishment.

Life Somewhere Else makes its beautiful way across 67 minutes, an album content to take its own sweet time to reach its destination, happily exploring the nooks and crannies along the way.

The lack of physical force (though there is plenty of fire) is more than compensated for, in the thought-provoking concept and complexity with a resonant yet unconventional lyricism.

The Night the Sun Came Up is a track-by-track success, offering readily accessible bits of dance-pop sass or dance-pop bliss whenever they're desired.

There is a bounty of rare material, none of which should ever be inaccessible again.

Sharks have built up a reputation as one of the U.K.'s most vibrant young live acts, but the disappointingly flat No Gods suggests that something must have gone missing on their way to the studio.

It all adds up to a beautifully redemptive album, one of Bibb's best.

It's messy, but it sure is pretty.

First Serve, the album, is somewhere between the De La producer's fascinating but flawed Psychoanalysis and his entirely purposeful movie-on-wax, A Prince Among Thieves.

Much like Prodigy's return to their rave-era prime on Invaders Must Die, it feels a touch forced, but what remains clear is that the Hartnolls still have the ability to make magic more than 20 years after their debut.

Lostprophets still sound hungry and confident, and when they stick the landing, as is the case with the relentless single "Bring 'Em Down," it leaves a mark.

The Marble Downs is a cult classic in the making, and if Oldham's involvement helps more people discover Trembling Bells' eclectic brilliance, so much the better.

Their roots are just that--roots, not anchors, allowing the group to grow, often in unexpected and quietly thrilling ways.

Heartbreaking Bravery is a fantastic slab of meticulous indie composition by all standards, but it's truly incredible in its ability to make almost every statement on the record come off like the last word.

Liddle has previously described their sound as "folky gospel music played by a post-punk band," and Shallow Bed's eclectic spiritual nature proves that isn't just hollow talk.

Nothing to Do is admittedly pretty one note in sound and subject matter, but the boys deliver it with so much enthusiasm and so many hooks, it's hard to care.

Even if you don't delve deeply enough into these tracks to unearth all the layers of psychological discomfiture lurking beneath the softly inviting surface, there's more than enough to be gained simply by absorbing the artful unfolding of the tunes at face value.

This is music that speaks of the heart, the soul, and the mind; her messages are articulate and well-crafted, and this ranks with her best work of the past decade.

As it stands, Allo Darlin' are as serious as it gets, and despite the lightness and sweetness, they are sophisticated pop music at its finest.

The resulting Curve more or less lives up to its ballpark idiom, and while it may not signal a complete reinvention, it definitely distances itself from the calculated guitar-driven alt-rock that dominated 2009's Burn Burn.

Pluto is fat and redundant at 15 tracks, but it delivers whenever you desire that purple and woozy, Cudi-meets-Khalifa flavor.

There's nothing preventing them from indulging in the silliest rhymes, baffling name-drops, nagging hooks, and earworm melodies.

The quartet knows the difference between a hook and lick, and applies that knowledge liberally on this extremely likable set of clever summery pop songs.

Written while Jason Pierce was on tour performing Ladies and Gentlemen...We Are Floating in Space in its entirety, Spiritualized's seventh full-length echoes not only that album, but Songs in A & E and Amazing Grace.

Mraz pushes himself into new territory, creating music that's perilously close to sounding seductive.

Like many remix collections, Dross Glop doesn't flow particularly well, and it's not quite as dazzling as Gloss Drop, but it once again shows that Battles are up for anything.

Two years later, Picture Show proves that the band's flair for writing almost aggravatingly catchy songs is as strong as ever.

While this album and Dust Lane sacrifice some of his recognizable sound, the possibilities laid open for Tiersen are too intriguing not to pursue.

What's enjoyable about Yuksek is that he still conveys a kind of dreamy winsomeness that, at many times subtly, contrasts against the out-and-out exuberance of a song.

Shedding much of the Spoon influence of Crystal Skulls, Poor Moon follow the same rustic backwoods folk path as Fleet Foxes.

Levine's muted vocals bring an understated drama to the proceedings, making these tales of heartbreak and disappointment so aching and raw that they're almost hard to listen to. There are no happy endings here, but every emotional nuance rings true.

There are some moments that hint at that brilliance.

For all its heart, though, Underwater Sunshine still lacks the unborrowed inspiration necessary to come out of the gates as a stand-alone record.

Incredible communication and playing are the strong points of the record, even if the pieces themselves might be too lengthy and punishing to digest in one sitting.

Macaroni is classic Bobby Conn, and much like its crudely drawn cover depicting an appropriation of the classic blue and orange Kraft Mac n' Cheese box, those who like it will love it, and those who don't will likely pay it no mind.

Songs are built with obvious hooks and structure, and are lyrically intimate, keeping them in line with the slick electro flavor and emo sentiments of Miike Snow and VHS or Beta.

Midtempo tracks like "Only if for a Night," "No Light, No Light," and "What the Water Gave Me," the latter of which finds Welch in full control of the room by the song's second half, are soulful, spooky, and bold.

This combination of fluidity and structure makes Frying On This Rock an absorbing, headphone-centric listen that only demands that the listener turn up the volume and hand over control.

Wreck ain't perfect but it certainly does the Unsane legacy ample justice and should satisfy most fans' hankering for sonic self-abuse.

Their richest and most varied album to date.

The combination of precisely crafted pop and fiercely imaginative arrangements results in a thrilling listen.

What comes across most effectively is the ease that both Roberts and Morrison have with one another. Their vocals settle in together comfortably. That feeling adds even more bubbling warmth to this already toasty disc.