Just because it's fun doesn't make it a divertissement, as Ishibashi brings complex feelings to the table alongside some virtuosic genre exercises.

The album is still enjoyable and damn catchy in spots — but knowing as much as we do about this talented trio, it seems like it could have been so much better.

Much of it is among Autechre's most direct, least complex output, yet it's no less fascinating than any of their intricate material.

By combining elements of metal, pop, jazz, and electronica, the Cooper Temple Clause create a broad album that is subtle and meticulous as well as driving and bombastic.

This is for all the listeners who liked Phish's good taste, eclectic nature, and Anastasio's playing, but never liked one of their albums.

So while Aqualung may not be doing anything on Memory Man that is wholly different than all of the Coldplays and Rufus Wainwrights of the world, there is a certain down-to-earth charm inherent in Hales that his peers often lack.

Ultimately, AFI have lightened up the band's darkly-sexy vibe on Crash Love and delivered a yearning, perfect pop/rock crush of an album.

What really sets Disturbed apart from other 21st century metal acts is their ability to consistently re-package and resell their sound in a way that avoids redundancy.

What he doesn't really have is a strong hook to pull listeners into the album; there's nothing surprising or unexpected or exceptionally hooky, just 12 polished slices of contemporary country that will surely please longtime Brooks & Dunn fans largely because it doesn't feel all that different than the duo.

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

OK, it may not be not that timeless, but it's still high quality work from a youngster who is off to a fine start in the indie rock game.

It might not be the grand arrival showcase that was expected but Papoose hasn't fallen off the "ones to watch" list quite yet, even when he's been on there longer than most anyone else.

His father's son through and through, Baxter Dury not only sounds a bit like his old man Ian, he is attracted to a similarly chintzy production that pushes attention away from the arrangements and to his words. This is especially true on 2014's It's a Pleasure.

Early Public Enemy was formatively innovative, but on this latter-day record PE explore and deepen that signature not unlike master jazzmen -- or the Stones, for that matter--and that's not only worthy of an album, it's groundbreaking in terms of hip-hop.

The Lexicon of Love II isn't exactly a return to form, since their 2008 album Traffic is a hidden gem in their catalog, but it does serve as a reminder that Martin Fry and ABC created one of the best albums of the '80s, if not ever, and they still have what it takes to come within shouting distance of those ridiculously lofty heights.

Inner Journey Out isn't made for all listeners or all purposes, but anyone interested in a journey down a peaceful river of sculpted sound is advised to investigate its properties.

Odyssey makes their transition from flag-waving fashionistas to serious, rewarding band smooth and entirely believable.

Ladyhawke is unlikely to win any awards for originality but you'd be hard pressed to find a more consistent and hook-laden debut all year.

It's an enormous-sounding, splashy album.

Sometimes, Vol. 4 :: Slaves of Fear feels almost too successful at what it sets out to do, but as bleak as it gets, there's something special about its empathy and honesty.

At first, Wild Nights' shifts from song to song could give unsuspecting listeners whiplash, but even if it isn't as cohesive as Girls Like Us was, its moments of brilliance show how much they've grown.

There's nothing particularly wrong with any of this, but despite this expanded stylistic and instrumental palette (and some notably lush, lovely vocal harmonies), it's hard to escape the sense that this album is, ironically, even more of an indulgently dabbling affair than its home four-tracked predecessor, which at least had an appealing simplicity and directness of approach.

Once Upon a Little Time may not be as immediately gripping as How Animals Move, but it grows on you, slowly and insistently, creating its terrain.

Once you reconcile yourself to the idea that Lerche has made a jazz-pop record, the songcraft, laid-back approach and Lerche's sweet vocals might just win you over.

Funk Wav Bounces impresses not just with the marquee names, but with how effortless, communal, and fun Harris makes it all feel.

The album may not offer the radical reinventions of Goldfrapp's duo work, but it doesn't need to -- Alison Goldfrapp pioneered these sounds, and on Flux, she's still doing them with effortless elegance.

This isn't a record where the songs and arrangements are at the forefront, it's an album that's all about the show and spectacle. Its pleasures are slightly fleeting but they're pleasures all the same.

It's distinctly focused with an urban appeal while rooted in rock, and a bit comparable to the likes of Poe, Fiona Apple, and Beth Orton.

It certainly doesn't sound that much different from a Mojave 3 record, if not quite as excellent due to the less than prime quality of some of the songs.

As distinctive as the band's sound is, it's not particularly varied, and two-thirds of the way through the album things may start to drag a little for those who aren't deeply indoctrinated in the ways of the Polyphonic Spree.

There's a sense of heady nostalgia here -- but one more deliberately adolescent and tender than the schlock-infested oldies radio station trends of most soundtracks of this ilk.

Even if it's not quite as strong a debut album as Pink Grease's prior work suggested it might be, This Is for Real really does have a lot of hedonistic, cleverly mindless kicks to offer.

The tempos drag, the lyrics are nothing special, the electronics nothing much to care about. Instead of sounding like the teenage spawn of My Bloody Valentine and Mouse on Mars, now they sound like Radiohead's very earnest cousin.

While a few hooks stand out--particularly the "fisticuffs" chorus of "Fixed"--most of the songs are too watered down, lyrically and musically, to be truly enticing.

The combination of intelligent and punchy songs, the sympathetic production, and Lerche's winning vocals make this a strong follow-up to Heartbeat Radio and further proof that Lerche doesn't need to mess around trying different things to keep people interested.

Casablanca Nights should serve as an inspiration to producers everywhere as an example of how to do an "And Friends" record the right way. For the rest of us, it's a thrilling blast of heartbreak beats and sweet club emotion.

That Tanukichan have come up with an album that sounds original and true while bringing deep emotions along for the ride is truly something worth commending.

Strong hooks abound on a true collaborative effort that officially passes the mantle to trad rock.

At its best, Names of North End Women is a beautiful creative rebirth.

Taken together, The Power of Rocks is a pleasantly puckish jumble -- which in this case may well mean mission accomplished.

Trailer Trash Tracys' try-anything attitude overpowers the actual songs, but that doesn't stop Ester from being a fascinating and often haunting debut that just whets the appetite for more.

All the supporting work is understated and studious, ideally compatible with Carner's substantive ruminations.

Uneasy Laughter is a riskier proposition than Moaning's first album, but it demonstrates their tremendous growth, both as a band and as humans.

Morrissey isn't living up to what he should do, he's doing whatever he wants to, whether it makes sense or not. That fearlessness may be reckless but it's also welcome.

While the two don't always match up exactly in terms of presentation, by the end, Byrne's nerdy rock and Veloso's airy sonnets prove highly complementary to each other, especially in tandem.

Packed full of confident exploration, sonic wizardry, expert guitar manipulation, and tight songcraft, this album of "leftovers" is as good as most of their contemporaries' best work.

Liima still recognizably sounds like Efterklang, but it seems like there's less pressure for them to construct a monumental statement here, and the group seem to enjoy their freedom.

“number one girl” and “drinks or coffee” address unrequited love and ‘talking stages,’ “3am,” “Gameboy,” and “toxic til the end” see ROSÉ weaving around red flags, and “too bad for us” and “dance all night” finish the cycle with post-breakup mourning and the search for closure.

Ti Amo's first half is one of the band's most consistent stretches of songs since Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, but the wispiness of its second half delivers mixed results.

No matter the setting, Corgan peddles heartfelt prog rock and here, when his songs are shorn of solos and kept at a human scale, his imagination feels immediate and bracing--and also a natural way for this once angry young man to ease into middle age.

While it's a little uneven, Dance Mother is often fascinating, and a big step forward for Telepathe without losing what made them distinctive in the first place.

White and company make almost no concessions to their audience, and fewer songs stand out here than they did on Horehound. And yet, this is a more satisfying album overall. Fortunately, Sea of Cowards' mysteries are more intriguing than frustrating.

This pair of grizzled old vets, together with their seemingly indestructible, mutton-chopped leader, still constitute a formidably powerful and a well-oiled rock & roll machine, there's no doubt about that. And that's one thing that certainly has been repeated many times over on most every Motorhead album, The World Is Yours more successfully than others.

The result is an album that gets the mind/body balance just right, and shows Ume are paying off on the potential of their earlier work.

A wandering, fuzz-cloaked journey that has fingerprints of the best qualities of their Austin music brethren -- the fiery energy of Trail of Dead, the druggy exploration of Charalambides -- as well as of classic rock and college rock favorites, and is presented in a way that feels familiar but has been thoughtfully crafted to obscure those fingerprints into something new.

Minimum Rock N Roll is spare but solid, and offers some real rock & roll kicks along with a dash of radical food for thought, something in short supply on the indie scene in this day and age.

Burned Mind isn't just Wolf Eyes' most cohesive album, it's also their most accessible.

Everybody's Everything is sometimes inconsistent, but it offers a complete picture of how quickly Lil Peep's short career ramped up from making tracks with friends to worldwide fame and influence.

This is a surprisingly strong reunion, one that puts the band back on the track they abandoned long ago.

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.

Even when Wire focuses on their not-so-classic material, they sound great in a live environment.

Human Energy is an exhilarating showcase for Stewart's continually mutating vision of abstract pop.

As it stands, Stone Temple Pilots is a good solid record and an inadvertent testament to the fact that these guys need each other.

Everything on In the Blue Light is deliberate, gentle, and subtle, placing as much emphasis on the words and melody as the instrumentation, which isn't necessarily the case with the dense original albums.

The album does tend to be more engaging than stifling, as well as a little more graceful, than previous releases from patten.

In the Absence of Truth is as solidly explosive and as adventuresome as Panopticon, but their elemental control over the music is greater, therefore creating a more even production.

How We Operate is strong, focused, and a complete pleasure to engage; its maturity and confidence is beyond anything they've released thus far, and the experimentalism brought into play on their other albums is here.

While this release shows real growth, one questions if that's what Donnaholics are looking for.

The band manages to have 21st Century Breakdown work on a grand scale without losing either their punk or pop roots, which makes the album not only a sequel to "American Idiot," but its equal.

ShelleyDevoto is obviously having a blast, and while Buzzkunst is no thundering masterpiece, the blast is not at listeners' expense.

An undeniably pleasant and ultimately rewarding, if not immediately accessible, listen.

If you can get past the clothespin-on-nose delivery... and the constant up-and-down swoops and dives in which it's delivered, the album has a certain sense of awkward, ramshackle charm that's frequently unhinged and claustrophobic at once.

Although it's perhaps her most consistent and mature work to date, it's also her least engaging, never matching the dizzying heights of her previous efforts even as it consciously avoids past pitfalls.

Though the album could use a bit more grit and grime, it's still remarkably solid.

Faded Seaside Glamour trades in the band's dreary English roots for radiating waves and rays of '60s California pop. It's a slick transition, an honest presentation soaked in Delays' crisp musicianship and the foursome's lush harmonies.

It could be the most innocent, charming and believable record of 2003.

Overall, the album leans more toward the melodic end of their oeuvre, but they have grown into this kinder, gentler mode organically, progressively working toward this groove little by little, album by album.

Though Speedy J does pure techno as good as he did his earlier experimental productions, it's a shame he's gotten back to the kind of tracks that DJ Hyperactive could be knocking out in his sleep.

Indebted to hard-edged Chicago acid-track producers like Adonis and Armando, Parkes constructed brittle, distorted drum-machine breaks (instead of the usual: endlessly tweaked skittery breakbeats) and matched them with claustrophobic analogue effects, most of which hark back at least a decade or so.... In all, Solaris is just as dense and intensive a production as most of Photek's previous work -- for better, but occasionally for worse -- but the range of styles points to a more ambitious future.

While Hiatt sounds soulful as all get out (as per usual) on this set, the lingering mood is often downbeat and introspective.

A true alternative potpourri -- quite refreshing in a day and age where more often than not, rock bands stick closely to a single style/approach.

Jeezy does little to make this disc different from Let's Get It.

Invitation Songs is a welcome, and welcoming, debut.

Backwoods Barbie might not break the bank out there, and it would take a good deal of marketing and luck for any of these tracks to hit the top of the new country charts, but it shows that Parton can still deliver the package in fine style and only the fools among us would ever count her down and out, no matter how many bluegrass albums she does.

Something for All of Us... manages to connect without really saying much, which is tough to pull off, even for a veteran of one of the underground rock league's most beloved teams.

This is a unique if occasionally discomfiting album that finds great beauty in surprising places.

In the 40-odd minutes that follow, the sisters' simplistic, repetitious song structures may start to grow stale, and their fine but unfussy folk instrumentalism may seem less than inspiring, but those harmonies are never far from hand, ensuring that The Big Black and the Blue is never less than an entirely pleasant listening experience.

Mechanize isn't quite in a class with Demanufacture or Obsolete, which are widely regarded as two of Fear Factory's most essential releases. But it's still an album that longtime followers will welcome.

Ultimately, while it is clear based on Factorycraft that Found aren't the same band you'd expect to hear playing at an art opening anymore, they are a band you might be pleasantly surprised to run into at a local pub, and that's something a lot harder to find.

Stoned to the bone with Was at the controls means this is one of the more humble and cool offerings in the Ziggy Marley catalog, but those are the same reasons it's an album to return to, delivering that satisfying Rastaman vibration whenever listeners crave a mellow mood.

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.

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

Black and White is a refreshingly personal, authentic, and fresh take on a British urban scene that was starting to become slightly stale.

New Blood isn't always as astonishing but that's fine.

It's all played with an energy and focus that will impress even the most die-hard fan of '70s prog who claim "they just don't make 'em like that anymore".

One of the most impressive aspects of the whole endeavor is the fact that a bunch of South Carolina musicians were able to spiritually transport themselves so definitively to a Southern California state of mind.

The Megaphonic Thrift largely avoid falling into the same self-indulgence trap that blights many all-star side projects, but they aren't quite engaging enough to suggest the hobby should become full-time.

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.