Burnett and the New Basement Tapes remain faithful to the spirit of The Basement Tapes yet take enough liberties to achieve their own identity, which is a difficult trick to achieve.

Coming in at 24 minutes and with seven cuts on the track list, this is EP-sized and not long enough for the full artist picture, but that said, there's no filler, either.

Fortunately, as a collection of forgotten odds and ends, Release doesn't have to fall into line with the rest of their discography, though the fact that even their forgotten 4-track tapes and VHS masters work better as an album than some band's first choice material is a testament to Cave's songwriting prowess and stellar musicianship.

Though the way Pink zigs and zags on Pom Pom can be dazzling or confusing depending on listeners' patience, in its own way it's one of the best representations of what makes his music fascinating and occasionally frustrating.

Luckily on Four the scales are tipped heavily in favor of the kind of songs they do best, with the majority of them sounding like good-time hits that will go a long way toward warming up a cold November night.

If it doesn't always feel like the dream collaboration between these gifted relations, Family clearly demonstrates what makes them special, individually and collectively.

The album won't take the place of anyone's day job, but it is a nice diversion for all involved.

This vibrant jumble of audio adrenaline with flecks of deep thought is, at the very least, an intriguing stab at taking stadium EDM experience somewhere bigger, and better for the soul.

The producer likewise incorporates vocals, either mostly or completely sampled, that tend to evoke senses of longing, losing grasp, and persevering.

Standouts are plentiful, with Lorde herself contributing both the propulsive centerpiece "Yellow Flicker Beat" and a cover of Bright Eyes' "Ladder Song." "Yellow Flicker Beat" also gets the remix treatment from Kanye West, his more minimal reworking of the song credited as "Flicker."

By owning her mistakes, she turns them into strengths--and delivers a winning first album in the process.

These are brightly produced songs perfectly suited to Midler's vocal style, stage bravado, and cheeky sense of humor.

Nothing Important's best moments clearly belie its title.

Songs like "Transparent Powers" and "Selfish Thoughts" find this variety of musical muses floating by beneath Amos' emotive, Will Oldham-esque howl.

Palme doesn't mince words; its pleasures are meticulously crafted and perfectly executed, and they succeed or fail based only on which way the listener falls in regards to Arnalds idiosyncratic voice, much like Joanna Newsom's.

Still, being 16 tracks long and Ross' second album of the year means mixtape gimmicks like "Heavyweight" ("I step into the ring/Ding! Ding!") get to graduate to an official track list and muddle up the flow. They only keep the often surprising Hood Billionaire off the top shelf of Ross releases, so bring some patience as this mixed bag is certainly worth sorting.

A smart and resourceful exercise in pop that works on several levels, Springtime Carnivore is an impressive calling card from an artist who clearly has interesting things up her sleeve.

His castoffs and extras equal other people's gold, and $ingle$ 2 is worth its weight in trash.

Each of these albums is full of Cooder's superb, goose pimple-inducing guitar work and rich musical thinking, but given how impressive his film work has been, Soundtracks is a fine collection but ultimately something of a disappointment.

More versatile and more deliberate, this new set of tunes sees Rhyton finding their collective voice more than ever before.

Decades after their freewheeling beginnings, Just Us still shows a picture of a band as playful as it is fearless, willing to pick up any object, idea, or unlikely concept and transform it effortlessly into something strange and captivating.

The digital kick drum sounds wander across the stereo field as Ambarchi deftly mixes in sounds ranging from his own haunted guitar harmonics to synth gurgling from Jim O'Rourke and even long stretches of heavily lingering string arrangements from the Iceland Symphony Orchestra.

Ultimately, with Creation, the Pierces have delivered a lovingly crafted album that showcases their creative growth.

Given that Nelson had built a remarkable career out of mostly doing just what he feels like, this album, charming as it is, isn't as revealing as it might have been coming from other major country artists, though for Willie's die-hard fans, it's a must and it is a sweet reminder of how much Bobbie Nelson has brought to Willie's music over the years.

All these flights of fancy fly freely since the album lacks an anchor. 2014 Forest Hills Drive comes off as a great, experimental, and advancing mixtape, but it's insider to a fault, as slight as that fault might be.

Black Beauty is one of the strongest and most consistent albums of his hard rock period, and if it isn't quite a lost classic, it's the missing link between Vindicator and Love's Reel to Real; it's nearly as good as the former and genuinely superior to the latter.

They give these tracks the same emotional push they give to those on their "real" songs, and that means their fans should lap it up like hot chocolate on a freezing cold night.

By the time the tense album closer "Rice and Fish" arrives, Tarwater have deftly transformed what could have been a claustrophobic mire of sounds into a deceptively simple-sounding pastiche of sounds dark and unexpected.

The majority of the workmanlike Between the Stars, deftly juggles the muscular and the melodic without breaking a sweat in the process.

Ixora (the name comes from a type of flowering plant common in Florida) finds Copeland embracing a more mature subject matter than they did on their early albums (as befits men in their mid-thirties), but with the same moody and thoughtful musical approach that marked their best-known work.

There's a wan, vaguely Everyman lyricism at work here as well, which makes some of the slower numbers a bit of a chore, but when the band lets it rip, as in the case of top-down, desert road jams like "Hey I Don't Know," "It's a Good Life," and the aforementioned "Come with Me," Lunatic earns the shifty weight of its unhinged moniker.

Beneath their poppier melodies and anthemic choruses underlies the D.I.Y. garage-rock ethic that inspired their quick ascent, and it's this mixture that places them firmly between the pop charts and dingy rock club basements.

The results are more intriguing than a mere collection of odds 'n' sods or remixes.

Clunkers aside, Magic Mountain comes closer than any previous offering in providing the kind of excitement Black Stone Cherry generate live, and showcases their most refined songwriting to date.

[Chad Kroeger's] shifting his band away from its antiquated post-grunge into a sound that is self-consciously fresher and mature. It's not only a commercially canny move, it generates the best Nickelback record to date.

Far from consigning her to one-hit wonder territory, the blend of strength of personality and music-biz savvy on Title shows that Meghan Trainor is clever enough to parlay a big hit into a real career.

Neatly tied together by opening and closing cuts that include Stevie Wonder on harmonica, because Ronson could swing it, Uptown Special is another nostalgic fantasy that provides light entertainment and provokes backtracking.

Somewhat disorienting, MIFLSA is a messy, incredible collection of damaged pop, and shows a band that's been forming for a while stepping into its full capabilities.

By singing these songs as sweet and straight as the dusty old standards on Glad Rag Doll or the bossa nova on 2009's Quiet Nights, she demonstrates how enduring these once-dismissed soft rock tunes really are.

California X have a way to go as songwriters, but Nights in the Dark shows they're maturing into a top-flight heavy indie band, and if you want to hear a group that know how to make their guitars signify, this may be just what you've been looking for.

This fine debut is also filled with productions from Statik Selektah, DJ Premier, and others whose names hold weight.

Fall Out Boy have taken great efforts to incorporate whatever was happening on the charts, an inclination that isn't quite as necessary in the great digital disassociation of the 2010s, yet this inclination does give American Beauty/American Psycho a bit of a kinetic kick. It also gives it a slight air of desperation.

Moonlight is a step in the right direction, though, and it's nice to hear him stretch out creatively.

A great night for folkies, an instructive listen for hipsters with an interest in the '60s folk scene, and proof that Joel and Ethan Coen's cultural influence takes on many remarkable forms.

Runners in the Nerved World is a step forward on the path toward a new approach that was clearly the Sidekicks' new focus on Awkward Breeds, and if this band doesn't rock as hard, they sound intent and committed on these songs, and this is the work of musicians who know where they're going and what they intend to find.

Hales' acumen for production is on full display here, as 10 Futures is a marvel of meticulous engineering, and while the material doesn't always live up to the sonic grandstanding, it never suffers because of it.

The album works best as moody sonic wallpaper that's very pretty and soothing. Maybe next time out, the trio will work more on getting deeper and delivering more emotion, but for now this well-crafted, easy to swallow debut works well enough.

Often known for blending icy minimalism with textural electronics, Jóhannsson's work here is far more sentimental, telling the story of Hawking's humanity rather than his science.

Big Dark Love may not make you feel good about the emotion that has driven pop music since the dawn of Tin Pan Alley, but Murder by Death bring a perspective that's honest and heartfelt, and it's a reminder why this group is still one of the most powerful Hoosier acts around.

Vast yet intimate, in some ways Sauna is the most like the Microphones album that gave Mount Eerie its name in the first place.

With worthy singles "Body Language," "Hotel," and "Be Real" added to the mix, there's much more fire than fodder here, enough to satisfy returning fans along with party people of all flavors.

A Flourish and a Spoil is far from a sophomore slump; instead, it's a portrait of the Districts as they evolve from their freewheeling beginning.

nd. Acorn Man also delivers a classic Billy Childish rant with "Punk Rock Enough for Me," in which he offers an impressive litany of the things that live up to his standard of cool.

Having been immersed in the changing tides of independent hardcore and emo since 2001, the band makes nods to its seasoned pedigree with the song title "The Jade Tree Years Were My Best," referencing Delaware record label Jade Tree, which reigned supreme in emo circles during the late '90s.

Fear and Saturday Night is a smaller-scale album than 2012's Tomorrowland and it's lighter, too, finding the Americana singer/songwriter settling into a comfortable ragged groove.

Peace can feel satisfied that they've grown from their debut, if only marginally, yet it's clear they're still finding their voice amongst the joyous, optimistic melodies that are the basis of so much of their sound.

Messier Objects is a lot of fun for those wanting to explore the Notwist's more experimental side.

While Crushed Beaks' mix of brash and dreamy sounds is promising, it often seems like they're still figuring out how to make it work.

While no attempt was made to faithfully imitate the Floyd versions, Haynes still skillfully echoed David Gilmour's elegant and graceful guitar style, while drummer Matt Abts turned "Have a Cigar" in a delightfully funky direction.

While Cowboy Worship doesn't match Love's transporting qualities, it does offer a pleasant tangent for Amen Dunes fans wanting more of its mysterious beauty.

Country Music manages to have very little going on in its sonic landscape but still radiates an overwhelmingly dense feeling. There's a distinct stir-craziness to the album, feeling by the end far more like a haunted house than an idyllic bungalow.

Time reaffirms that there's more to Ekko's music than ballads, but a little more consistency would have made this a confident debut instead of a promising one.

Among the handful of earlier tracks is Steve Poindexter's crucial "Computer Madness" (1989), technically a Muzique release. The compilers could have just as easily included "Work That Mutha Fucker" from the same EP.

These guys are shameless and that's what makes them more fun than your average arena rockers.

On their second LP for Epitaph, San Diego-based hardcore act Retox continue to whittle away any extraneous trimmings, delivering a needle-sharp set that is brutal, fast, and rigidly concise.

et It Reign's appealing mix of nostalgia and vitality proves that Barât can not just survive, but thrive outside of the confines of his other, storied band.

It makes for an album that's hard to love right away, but if you stick with it, is a rewarding listen.

In James Bond terms, Sour Soul is the almost addendum-ish Quantum of Solace as it offers adventurous fans the same opportunities for a quick fix while sacrificing a bit of weight. In Toronto jazz terms, it's verygoodgoodnotbad.

Aspiring to both the abandon of spiritual jazz and the burning nihilism of black metal, Moloney and Moore land somewhere else entirely, in a bleak world of noise and disdain that sounds like a state of mind both players feel alarmingly at home in.

The 19 tunes here definitely push well into double-album territory, with an expanded band of players in a mode that borders on jam band territory but always stops short of over-extending the songs.

That weary yet warm acceptance of his middle age is why First Kiss works: it's a bit bumpy and sometimes sleepy but it finds old Bob Ritchie settling into his comfort zone, knowing that he's in it for the long haul.

Taken altogether, the various sounds and moods on I Want to Grow Up are a nice progression from her debut, and show Green wrestling with some pretty big issues while still dishing out really good pop songs that'll have you singing along after the first spin.

Anyone who was spoken to by the low-lit intimacy of The Creek Drank the Cradle should seek out Archive Series, Vol. 1 as a perfect companion piece to that album and as deeper look into what must have been an incredibly inspired and productive time for the young songwriter.

Despite the relaxed, very informal nature of the playing, some deep music gets made here. While guitar freaks may have hoped for more guitar from Gunn, he's everywhere even when he's not running the show. Seasonal Hire is excellent country and Eastern.

The sentimental doo wop vocals filtered through a slightly muddy garage rock lens butt up against the cartoonishly crass punk rock rants and the mild tripouts for yet another album of pure fun and explosive rock & roll antics, with a delivery that by now belongs solely to these wild-eyed champions of inspiration and profanity.

Joyland is smart, entertaining stuff with lots of great guitar work and atmosphere to spare.

Champs deliver a handful of cinematic anthems, including "Desire" and "The Balfron Tower," which, much like the duo's island home, are at once breezy and haunting.

The moments that stir the most are the ones where Pops' work seems to have been left untouched, as on a simple, effective version of "Nobody's Fault But Mine."

Tuxedo is a fine display of the duo's love for the electric funk disco sound, and their immense skill at re-creating it.

Blade of the Ronin comes shockingly close to the sound and the excitement of their 2001 effort The Cold Vein, and offers the same kind of combination of street knowledge and sweet punch lines, all delivered over rickety yet compelling beats.

With a sound so luscious, Fresh Blood is hard to resist and if it doesn't quite offer the lasting sustenance it presumes, it nevertheless tastes mighty fine.

There's not much one can do to deny the emotional weight or the eerily '70s character of Goon; it's probably best to settle into the La-Z-Boy, flick feathered hair off of your polyester lapel, grab a box of tissues, and let it be.

As the record progresses, the band explores psyched-out stoner metal ("Beelzebub"), blasting traditional hardcore ("All Hail"), and sludgy, hypnotic grooves ("Dusted"), but regardless of style, the songs seethe with a declarative sense of loss and anguish, feeling like a true reflection of challenging times and a band of friends trying to make it to the other side, together.

The Door Behind the Door is crisper and more massive-sounding than its predecessor. However, as they polish their narcotic haze, the Black Ryder sacrifice some of the rock & roll grit that made Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride so captivating.

Although it may not be his most cohesive release, it's nothing if not completely original and begs the question of where he'll go from here.

Gibbard has a gentle touch so having cushy, sugary melodies mirrored by a production equally as supple feels like a marriage of intent and sound.

Ben Cook is no doubt a very talented guy and he puts his talents to very good use on Ripe 4 Luv, crafting the kind of pop music that should appeal to anyone who likes singing along, feeling things, and a little bit of weirdness mixed into their fizzy cocktails.

It may lack the cohesion of her last outing, and her steadfast derision of anything resembling a hook can be taxing, but it makes up for its meandering with a strength of character that eludes many of her contemporaries.

The songs ultimately blur into one extensive blast of rugged emotion and high energy, dazzling in their urgency and always threatening to crumble out of precise playing into unhinged noise.

This is an intriguing, promising debut that suggests lots of possible directions for Ivar's next move.

"Karaoke, TN" and "Coat Check Girl" are good neo-power pop, but what gives Wasted on the Dream its kick are those earlier moments, when the band wants to be a different band than it is.

Though it may not be quite as consistent as Forget or Confess, Eclipse still reflects Twin Shadow's dedication to atmosphere and hooks in engaging ways.

While Tigercats are unlikely to turn many heads with this type of overly polite pop, songs like "Sleeping in the Backseat" and "Wendy and Lisa" are perfect companions for a hazy summertime day trip.

This skillful interweaving of Knopfler's personal past helps give Tracker a nicely gentle resonance.

As with their debut, Cosmetics never takes itself too seriously and some of the tracks, particularly on the album's second half, sound like fun if slightly forgettable, garage bangers. In general though, the highlights here are higher, proving that this second effort was one worth making.

The experience of this album is to have listened to an Elliott Smith record and not an Avett project or to anyone else--a testament to Smith, certainly, but also to Avett and Mayfield's tasteful if fail-safe renditions.

If it's a long way from a triumph, it's a solid, heartfelt work from a veteran artist who isn't about to give up the ghost.

It's Decided is more than just another comeback album; it's proof that Andy Kim is here to stay.