Drawn-in listeners are sure to be rewarded with increased payoffs after multiple listens, but even they may long for the simpler days of "Radar Detector."

The sonic sea change is deliberate, but given what a vastly musical band the Bad Seeds have always been, this more economical approach is jarring and delightfully unsettling.

Germano's gift for conjuring otherworldly melodies is as strong as ever. That said, she's still, and will always be, a niche artist.

This set finds various alternative rock artists paying tribute to Hardin's muse by covering his best-known compositions.

The casual listener might think it drifts too much, but fans who wrap it up in the Slaughterhouse universe will find it's a somewhat jumbled effort with plenty of literate, thoughtful writing to explore.

Flume's debut certainly fits into a post-2000s club vibe and DJ culture that borrows liberally, and often with inspired aplomb, from cut-and-paste hip-hop, avant-garde electronic composition, ambient pop, and contemporary R&B.

Everyone in the band is a seasoned Nashville vet, so while they never sound like they're trying to consciously stretch the limits of bluegrass, they do so just by being themselves.

Granted, Lidell has more of a retro touch than any pop group would dare consider, but these songs are just an AmIdol appearance away from the commercial mainstream.

This is one to keep handy when graceful and cool are what's required, since Pillowfight are happy when it rains, and happiest when it mists at twilight.

Nevertheless, even if Out of Touch, in the Wild is missing some of the bite of Dutch Uncles' earlier music, its brainy pop is always intriguing.

Atmospherics and meticulous recording are as important as ever, and while you can take a copy to the stereo shop to make sure that amp sounds rich and warm enough, the album is slightly more song-based than previous efforts, so finicky fans might gripe when the lyrics go quite Depeche Mode or James Blake.

A predilection for brevity and simple pop craftsmanship ultimately tempers their more obstinate tendencies, resulting in a smart, well-executed set of staccato dance-rock anthems that flirt with excess, yet never overstay their welcome.

The washy blend of acoustic dirges, blown-out guitar tones, and lonely psychedelic character sketches solidify into an increasingly accessible sound from this once ungrounded act, without losing any of the group's character or inspiration.

The demonic rage of this innovative band approaching 20 years in existence is in top form on these 11 unrelenting songs.

Those looking for something more consistent should first check out the exceptional Serial Hodgepodge, but fans of the poppier side of Lusine will find this to be a nice counterpart to A Certain Distance.

The band's debut for the Innovative Leisure label, forces noisy indie rock, stoner metal, trippy psychedelic pop, and freak folk to sit at the same lunch table, resulting in a spirited yet oh so slightly hesitant food fight that goes just far enough to earn a couple of detentions.

He's made an album that sounds so good and authentically psych-like, and one that wraps the listener up in a warm embrace of misty melodies and cobwebbed arrangements.

Sometimes the looseness that makes 180 so charming borders on unfocused rambling, but for the most part, the Palma Violets keep it in check on this entertaining, promising debut.

The Next Day neither enhances nor diminishes anything that came before, it's merely a sweet coda to a towering career.

When It Was Now is a solid debut that proves Trojans wasn't a fluke.

Darker and more mature than any of the band's previous music, Antipodes sacrifices some of the quirky charm of Popstrangers' earliest work and Happy Accidents' firepower for a strong debut album.

The result is an album of exploratory jazz that is often more about group interplay on various musical themes rather than straightforward improvisation on melodic compositions--though there is that, too.

Peacock's organic, sometimes, limpid production makes damn sure that nothing gets in between them, allowing the listener to have a direct, often powerful experience with both.

The main reasons to drop a quarter into this video game on wax (or digital download) are the sexy robot song "Nightcall" (which was featured prominently in the film Drive), the dubsteppy victory theme "Protovision," and the assurance that no matter what cool bits of the present are employed, the fetishizing of that 16-bit swagger will remain solid and inspired.

While somewhat brief with just seven songs, there's more than enough diversity on Deathfix to keep things interesting throughout.

While this doesn't carry the weight of an "historic" recording, it is thoroughly enjoyable. Harris is in better voice than she's been in years and Crowell is a natural as a duet partner.

The album is fun, huge, and pleasantly confused (as evidenced in part by the out-of-place Germs cover that closes the album) but ultimately just another chapter in Moore's lifelong exploration of sound, poetry, and the darkest corners of American subcultures he helped build, and continues to add to.

People, Hell and Angels certainly isn't the place to start your Hendrix collection, but collectors will surely want to hear this and it provides an interesting perspective on where Jimi's music was headed post-Experience.

Wondrous Bughouse is an undeniably impressive-sounding album that will please fans who loved The Year of Hibernation for its intricate sonics, but those who empathized with its emotions might feel a tad disconnected.

Less expansive than 2010's So Runs the World Away, yet still rich enough in atmosphere to make for a relatively seamless transition, Ritter doesn't just sit at the end of his bed with a guitar and emote into a tape recorder.

The band hasn't strayed too far from what made it successful in its beginnings, but with Naomi, they've shifted their energy into producing the aural equivalent of a cloudless summer day.

Hitchcock is clearly having fun here, and while that sense of joyful, mad abandon may not always result in quality, it's hard not root for a guy who, at 60, isn’t afraid to stand behind his "honey naked and uncooked."

Thankfully, while Nash has moved to a more extroverted, aggressive sound, she hasn't sacrificed any of the personal, intimate lyrics that marked the best of her early songs.

At times, Nanobots feels like Join Us' more melancholy flip side, and even if this album isn't quite as immediate as the one before it, it shows how They Might Be Giants can continue in the vein they've excelled at for decades and build on it, too.

Even if Mowgli is not completely engaging, Mister Lies is on the verge of something innovative, and most electronic fans will find these crisp, controlled soundscapes easy to absorb and enjoy.

Chain Letters is an evolutionary step. Idiosyncratic, revelatory, raucous, it's a nasty, beautiful rock & roll baptism in pleasure, both carnal and spiritual.

This is the final group of recordings Smith plans to release from the 100 Records project, and it's just as strong as any of the others.

At times, it's tempting to wonder if Blank Realm would sound even better if they focused more, but Go Easy is so likable that it would be a shame to sacrifice any of the band's charm in a quest for perfection.

It's organic, relaxed, unforced approach is deceptively high in performance skill, yet resonates with an emotional depth that rings true throughout.

Apart from the increased cohesion, the quality of the songwriting is far higher, reminding us of the astonishing promise and tossed-off ease of Banhart's early material, and suggesting that his detours into less exciting sounds were just part of a journey that might be much longer and more rewarding than expected.

A collection of songs that are both ardent and humble.

As it stands, the album lives up to its name, offering a low-key but promising introduction to the duo's music.

Produced by Spoon's Jim Eno and featuring ex-Black Joe Lewis guitarist Zach Ernst, The Electric Word is remarkably similar to the group's earlier recordings. The lone difference is the superior recording quality.

With songs largely based around Natalie's love of soul and melodic '60s pop, Wild Belle have a less frenetic, if still hypnotically languid take on NOMO's world fusion sound.

The combination of strong songs, Lissvik's inspired production, and the chances they take (and nail every time) make this the best Mary Onettes record yet, and the first to sound like they have their own voice.

Bragg and producer Joe Henry, owner of the aforementioned basement where Tooth & Nail was recorded, make for a solid team, allowing their shared love of rural Americana to run wild and each song enough elbow room to get comfy by sticking to a pantry of few seasonings.

He leaves all those classy trappings behind, picks up his guitar and plays a bunch of songs he likes, maybe even loves. It's not an especially compelling reason to make an album but it's not a bad one, either, and the same can be said about the experience of listening to Old Sock: it's a pleasurable way to while away the time.

Berlinette fans may not find a lot to grab onto here, but the graceful way she explores different directions on LISm will impress fans of her more abstract side.

Even if their meditations on heartbreak and death can be overwhelming occasionally, If You Leave proves that Daughter can channel a single mood over the course of an entire album with often exquisite results.

Like some of his peers, Woolhouse can be a little too subtle for his own good, but on Life After Defo, he's crafted a promising debut with a distinctively cozy take on life's bittersweet moments.

Even if not everything on Velvet Changes works, it shows that Jones can do pure pop as well as experiments--or a mix of both, as on "Holiday Man"--and the album ends up being more promising than uneven.

The lyrics to the more energetic tracks are no less dire, but as the album speeds by at just over half an hour, the impressions made by the slowest songs become the strongest, without melodic hooks or youthful release to hide their hopeless sentiments behind.

Given its length and glacial pacing, Ensemble Pearl may not resonate for all fans of O'Malley's--or his collaborators--other projects, but it is a singular work that offers considerable rewards for those who will engage with it on its own terms.

Fanatics seeking that Ralf and Florian style of restraint will certainly be thrown. Others will find their respect for Bartos has grown after a listen, and once the revelations settle, Off the Record feels like an enjoyable journey back to "Ohm Sweet Ohm."

As the Soft Hills continue to hone their sound, the moments of spaced-out production meeting tender harmony make more sense, as do the blasts of fuzz and tension.

While operating inside their own little corner of the musical world, Clutch made a reputation for themselves based on solid songwriting, lyrical weirdness, and quality--all of which are present on Earth Rocker, which is still unmistakably a Clutch album.

Fol Chen could probably stand to become even more accessible on their next album, but on The False Alarms, they still make listeners lean in close to hear exactly what's going on, and still leave them wanting more.

The record may be a little short on variety, but it is long on mid-fi energy, and will give fans of the kind of stripped-down and live-sounding rock Dead Moon and the Wipers cranked out plenty of warm and nostalgic feelings.

Add it all up and it's a weird and wonderful set, as hyped-up, hallucinatory, and hot as the film that either oozed or sweated it out.

Delta Machine, the band's 13th album, feeds off this negative energy and winds like a snake the whole time, slithering through a well-written (ten songs from Martin Gore with three coming from Gahan) and lusciously recorded set of serpentine siren songs.

Throughout the album's nine songs, there's a nebulous sense of despair, but it's less an anguished confusion and more of the melancholy of acceptance that comes with a life full of heavy changes.

This is an indulgent jumble of a sideline release, but that doesn't mean Wayne isn't in fine form.

Tedder reveals a broad palette of stylistic inspiration.

Despite this unevenness, at its best Ride Your Heart captures Bleached's carefree, slightly scuzzy California cool-girl charm.

An A.merican D.ream comes off like an updated version of the walking blues: heavy looks at heavy times, made all the heavier when the narrator is positioned somewhere between genius and mental breakdown.

While the resulting record may not have the power to transcend time and space, it's got loads of charm and a captain who knows how to chart a streamlined course.

It's an environment that rewards more often than it disappoints.

Dear Miss Lonelyhearts is more about what the band does best rather than breaking new ground, and the result is some of Cold War Kids' most promising and satisfying music since their debut.

It's a fun album for fanatics, but the willingness to shock feels too comfortable at this point, so those who found it tiresome before will likely find it devastating here.

The Angels are masters at sounding simultaneously cool as a block of ice and hot as hellfire, but the cunning pop melodies are the real key to this album's success.

Here's Willy Moon: this is music that is out there, it is not cooked up by consultants and marketers, it's a truly, genuinely strange attempt at something new--it may miss its mark but that's why it's fascinating.

Ultimately, Heza is a nuanced work that flirts with the experimental, but always remains intimate, atmospheric, and endlessly listenable.

Throughout the album, whether he's coming off like a rootsy road dog or a post-Tin Pan Alley piano balladeer, Fullbright consistently displays a level of lyrical finesse that would be impressive in an artist with twice as many years behind him, which only bodes well for his future work.

The songs don't stand out as much themselves as they do blur into a wintery whole, creating an environment of subtle experimentation and daydream-like dynamics.

Time is a promising debut from a guy who understands that pop is sometimes better when it gets a little weird.

It might not be as cohesive as their best albums, but the standout songs rival their finest moments.

"Silver Lining" finds the group at its most savage, while exceptional moments like the anthemic, harmonious choruses of "Learned Behavior" and "Strange Comfort" balance the scales and help the Color Morale to reveal themselves as one of the most dynamic acts of the genre.

OMD's Kraftwerk fixation at this late date is a retro-within-retro move that puzzles, so prepare to be jarred a bit before declaring this a welcome addition to the catalog.

Throughout Ministry of Love, Gika and Leopold Ross try on lots of sounds and moods for size; not all of them fit, but enough do to make this a promising debut--and to suggest that they don't need to rely on gimmicks.

They're ambitious, admirable, and sometimes thrilling, particularly because the group never fears to tread into treacherous waters, happy to blur the distinctions between pop and rock, mainstream and underground.

Stories Don't End barely registers upon the first spin (it's easy pop for the millennial generation), but if given the time to percolate, it produces a damn fine cup of coffee.

What makes Migrant interesting is that it's finally giving him the opportunity to simply cut loose and write whatever songs come to mind, and though fans might miss the conceptual hooks of his past work, the album is solid enough to stand all on its own.

Though trimmed down from more than a half-hour of unedited movements, the lengthy piece begins to drag almost immediately, and its droning, slow transitions are the only weak spots on an otherwise captivating and sonically rich collection.

Rundgren is pushing the edges of his comfort zone just enough to keep himself stimulated while offering enough melody to satisfy those fans whose concentration usually drifts whenever he wanders, and the result is an imperfect but satisfying art-pop album.

Ultimately on Birthmarks, Born Ruffians let go of some of their punk rock ramble and hit the pop song sweet spot.

Floating Coffin will stand as a successful foray into the world of straight-ahead, heavy-rocking, non-weird alternative indie rock.

That quarter-century span should be a tip-off that this is not a lean, coherent, purposeful album, but rather a collection of every listenable thing Otis completed over the course of 25 years, and in that sense, it's pretty good.

In the end, it's still just a live album, but this sideline release is a must for fans, recommended for the casual techno head, and worth checking if a pumping, hypnotic, and otherworldly journey sounds attractive.

Whatever Ghost's intentions, they've definitely managed to carve out a niche within the increasingly fragmented world of heavy metal, and while purists may revile them for their insolence, it's their insubordination that ultimately earns them a place in the genre.

Turner's big expressive voice and gift for everyman poetry loom large over the proceedings, but there's a newfound musical effusiveness at play here as well, due in part to some tastefully simple yet sharp production from Rich Costey.

It's an entertaining, vibrant, and artistically filling album, so consider it a "presents" effort and enjoy the show.

The results, though often feeling abrupt and sometimes overly academic, are mostly warm and curious, stretching out in eternal open-endedness that isn't really looking for answers or understandable conclusions.

Mellow, abstract, and alluring, this worthwhile journey also offers Underworld fans a clear picture of Hyde's artistic contribution to the group.

It's still a verdant, imaginative, lush, and occasionally unsettling work that hits the sweet spot more often than it misses its mark, and while it may not shake the rafters, it most certainly fills up the room with sound.

With one foot in the constantly building atmospherics and experimentation of groups like Explosions in the Sky and the other in the openhearted optimism of the emo scene that they grew out of, Appleseed Cast offer up some of their best work to date on Illumination Ritual.

Bruni's songwriting is deceptive in its limpid simplicity, full of reverie, wit, and the directness of her breathy voice, which is well traveled but contains delight at its heart.

It's classic pop music for people who have never bothered with classic pop, which is reason enough to check this out.