Several shorter, fragmentary cuts provide glimpses of indescribable studio happenings that can't be replicated. Titles like "Copy of Crazy" and "The Monkey in the Machine" hint at the playful, slightly chaotic nature of these sessions.

Tthe way she's moved forward on this date, wedding her musical identities, makes for a striking if uneven listen and bodes well for future recordings.

Without clear-cut standouts, Operator is really a full-album listening experience. This may hinder casual fans--there's no "Bounce" or "Heartbreaker" here--but diehards and lovers of more challenging electronic music will appreciate the chaotic journey of Operator.

Collingwood does a good job here of separating Look Park from his work with Adam Schlesinger in a way that will likely bring along a lot of existing fans, and with material strong enough to make it hard to pick standouts.

Rhyton sound like they could easily play for hours on end and not get tired, and possibly not even come close to reaching their peak, but they rein in their impulses in order to keep things focused and explore more ideas in the album format, and it works pretty well.

The King of Whys is still more intimate than any of Kinsella's prior bands, like American Football or Owls, or even Joan of Arc. The album is otherwise not likely to stand out among Owen's catalog, but it's still an affecting and worthwhile effort from an artist who's as reliably tuneful as candid.

Descendents are playing punk rock for the same reasons they always did--they want to, and they need to--and the fact they can mature while sounding thoroughly like themselves makes Hypercaffium Spazzinate a welcome late-era addition to their catalog.

Despite the haunting narrative tied to the album, Viola Beach remains the sound of youth, hope, and possibility.

Boy King may be some of Wild Beast's most consistent and accessible music, but at a price: It comes dangerously close to predictable, something the band never would have been called before.

Argentinian punk rockers Los Enanitos Verdes close the album with a squalling "Traveling Band" that snarls, churns, and nearly goes off the rails. A couple of other selections are less inspiring, but the vast majority of Quiero Creedence makes for a truly fine and original tribute record.

The contrast between Khaled's all-positive demeanor and his facilitation of buccaneering misogyny is stark as ever here, most evident in tracks like "Work It" and "Pick These Hoes Apart."

Over There That Way doesn't seem like the obvious path Heliotropes could have taken after A Constant Sea, which is to its advantage, demonstrating Numsuwankijkul isn't just a one trick pony.

Overall, Blossoms is a strong debut that distills the best of the quintet's diverse influences into a catchy amalgam that opts to shoot for the mainstream rather than stick to the same old sound.

This scattershot feel makes Tween something mainly for die-hard Wye Oak fans who want a peek behind the curtain, or for anyone curious about how they managed to make the daring stylistic leap from Civilian to Shriek.

Those new to Autechre might be best off starting with their earlier material, and working their way up to this gradually--or else diving in headfirst here and preparing for a long, strange trip.

Though the album is somewhat uneven, it proves they've got the potential to give their vintage influences an inspired update.

It's rare that someone has an idea this good and unique in the first place, double rare when someone can keep going back to that same idea and find new ways to express it. In that regard, Sweatbox Dynasty is another oddball triumph for a one-of-a-kind artist.

Though Innocence Reaches is more than a bit disjointed, offering a mix of styles previously explored and newly absorbed, it's an up-tempo pleaser with songs that promise to be handpicked fan favorites--if with little consensus.

On No Hard Feelings, the South Side native adeptly mixes grit and gloss.

While there's certainly a sorrowful theme to this album, it doesn't seem like West is merely interested in creating dark, depressing music; there's still something hopeful and encouraging about it.

It's unapologetically slick with major pop aspirations, but the Arkells have shown that they can play to the masses while continuing to challenge and entertain themselves.

Health&Beauty sound like a group well into a long career here, an auspicious trait for what is essentially a debut.

The Family isn't a grand statement, but an intimate one. Despite the dark threads that run through it and bind it, this collection is as moving as it is harrowing, as tender as it is tenacious. It's an album Arthur had to make, and as such is completely redemptive.

Usually the album is quietly roiling, sometimes drifting toward the meditative (as on the otherwise profane "Tired as F***"), yet always circling back to fierce, searching spiritual rock.

The album is clearly the product of the artist's singular vision rather than anything created with commercial expectations, and while certain listeners might find it indulgent or amateur-sounding, give it a chance and it might prove to be a rewarding, amusing listen.

Not every album has to bash listeners over the head with wild ideas and massive sounds; sometimes it's enough to provide a warm hug or a tender word, and Boys Forever does a fine job providing both.

As a whole, Home Wrecking Years is worth a number of complete spins to let it decant and work its magic.

The lack of variation creates a series of lovely, sad, but blurry episodes in an extended work rather than strong individual tracks. That said, this is a marked return to form for the Pineapple Thief; it delivers back to fans a sound most have been missing for years.

On the whole, though dedicated dream pop fans may be disappointed in the adjustment to the band's sound, Episodic's energy and lush melodicism should hook its share of ears with what are, style preferences aside, solid songs.

Hotter singles make their debut a better buy, but for a group pegged as a one-hit wonder early on, SremmLife 2 dispels that myth with style.

Fishing Blues isn't so much an indie version of The Heist as it is a more satisfied and slow version of Southsiders. Check that one first, then come back here for a relaxed alternative.

Despite his growing confidence and excellent production and arrangements, the singing and lyric writing still need work. This is a snapshot of where he is at the moment. It's a solid effort even with its flaws.

Way Down in the Jungle Room includes the material from From Elvis Presley Boulevard, Memphis, Tennessee and Moody Blue, and a second disc of outtakes and alternate versions to create the definitive document of this often overlooked period in Presley's career.

Callus is the most challenging, confrontational Gonjasufi record yet, and it's also his most daring work.

It's chock-full seductive, attractive melodies and sweet singing, but its lyrics are searing enough in their emotional and spiritual honesty, that they cut to the bone. Great.

The whole album is pretty good, sometimes even really good. The Parrots may not be doing anything new or even close to it, but they give the corpse of garage rock a good kicking and that's a pretty cool.

This sounds like an album Parton could have made in the mid-'70s, before she made her bid to become a cross-genre superstar, and for fans who want to hear "the Real Dolly," Pure & Simple will hit the spot like a glass of iced tea on August afternoon.

Even if Amnesty lacks some of the intensity of Crystal Castles' earlier work, it accomplishes the tricky task of providing common ground and a fresh start.

There are a few standouts strewn throughout like "Jump the Gun," "So Tired," and "Laura," but mostly it's the kind of long-player that works best blaring in its entirety from the speakers of a sun-roasted beach cruiser dashboard on the way to someplace fun.

Mausoleum is a rare recording in that its appeal is vast.

Vacancy charts a tumultuous journey through Raneri's relatable struggles, providing a kindred spirit and mouthpiece for anyone who has ever been burned by love.

Some of the album's more delicate tracks still feel a little formless, and there are a lot of other bands mining similar musical territory, but The Hanging Valley's best moments suggest Cold Pumas are just tapping into their potential.

While Andrews may lack the late singer/songwriter's [Jeff Buckley's] angelic pipes, he shares his knack for making the darkness in all of us feel both hopeless and sexy.

An undoubtedly reactive work, this is undiluted and progressive nonetheless.

How to Be a Human Being's sense of wonder and joie de vivre feels as instructive to Glass Animals as their listeners, and their willingness to try anything results in some truly great moments.

It's not uncommon for these songs to bloom into something celebratory during their second half, such as on the rippling, shimmering "Wandering Still." Between Waves is easily the strongest, most inspired Album Leaf release in at least a decade.

On Stay Gold, Walker falls into the latter camp, but if these songs lack a certain spontaneity, the craft is strong and Walker seems so eager to sound like a rock star that you just might mistake him for the real thing.

Motion Graphics is a highly intriguing album of warped bitstream pop.

Brettin tries a lot harder to sound weird on Skiptracing than he did on Timeline, and the result is a more vivid album.

The album might not stand with their all-time best work, like Seamonsters or Watusi, but it's hard to deny the brilliance of a band that, so late in its career, can crank out an album as passionate, hook-filled, and flat-out fiery as this. That's the true surprise of Going, Going....

Even if AIM is more scattered than her finest work, at its best it plays like a scrapbook that pieces together over a decade's worth of sounds and issues.

Schmilco is clearly music for autumn, meant for cool nights, crunching through the leaves, and the occasional dark night of the soul. And it speaks volumes about Wilco that they could make two albums so different within such a short space of time, and both times giving us music that sounds like no one else.

The paucity of any full-on rockers may drive some listeners back to the group's more propulsive, earlier works, but the sullen, sweet, and soulful Away rewards a patient ear.

On the whole, it's an engaging debut with memorable tunes that should be tried on by fans of any of the above-mentioned bands or melodic descendants of post-punk and Brit-pop.

At first blush, this is not one of Anderson's most immediately engaging albums, but it has a meandering charm that works its magic over time.

Of Monkees & Men is above all a Scott McCaughey album. Even the most playful songs are deeply personal, leaving no doubt about how much the Monkees meant to him in 1966 as well as 2015.

Hunter works within his limits, rocking just hard enough to seem vital and, best of all, his songs remain a thing of wonder: careful and clever, the work of a singer/songwriter who values idiosyncrasy over eccentricity.

Cosmetic is a strong step forward for Nots that builds on their strengths and gives their weirdness some new and interesting places to go.

Braver Than We Are may have its flaws--it's too staid and self-conscious, for one--but Steinman never found a better interpreter for his songs than Meat Loaf, and Meat Loaf never sounds more like himself than he does when singing Steinman, and that's why the album works.

While in the process of embracing more electronics they lose a bit of their organic warmth, particularly compared to their debut, Local Natives hang on to a significant amount of their quirkiness and rhythmic flair.

Many of the songs are free of artifice, boiled down to voice and guitar or left nearly naked to let the emotional impact of the melodies and words cut more deeply.

If Soundwalk Collective's music is often lovely but understated, Patti Smith's vocals give Killer Road the pale fire that makes it come alive; she never sounds like Nico, but she ably brings forth the voice of a poet facing her final crisis, and Smith understands that just well enough to communicate it to the audience.

The warmth of the beats and the tasteful melodic arrangements are perfectly suited to McMorrow's soulful, blue-eyed delivery, and the occasional stylistic detours and offbeat turns of phrase make for welcome deviations from the formula.

The duo's sad, passionate vocals readily recall peak-era Depeche Mode, but the instrumentation is much more organic, and the production is far more atmospheric and multi-layered, even verging on hallucinatory at times.

There's a looseness to the sound that gives it some needed warmth and dynamics, while there are still enough vintage synths and spacy overdubs to keep it weird and home-cooked. So, the best of both worlds.

Unseen may not cheer you up, but it will compel and fascinate anyone with an appetite for great songwriting.

The Wink may be less readily accessible than the music Presley was making as White Fence, but it's definitely as good.

With 15 tracks totaling over 70 minutes, including a 17-minute closer, Mystère's ambition will challenge the ears and endurance of some. Having said that, the album is well sequenced, alternating lighter and heavier tracks, and the whole presentation has that enviable je ne sais quoi--c'est cool.

Fans needn't worry that the group's vitality has faded, however. If anything, it takes advantage of a broader palette as Cymbals Eat Guitars continue to dip into more styles without losing their warped, crunchy center.

As a whole, Fixion is a logical progression for Trentemøller, whose music seems to cinematically expand and contract while remaining true to his chosen bailiwick.

The most effective songs--the dragging slow jam "My Blood," the sweetly chiming ballad "Mediator," and the woozy and bittersweet title track--are the least cluttered, from the comparatively sparse production to the judicious lack of guest vocalists.

While it feels like Pixies are still figuring out how to continue their legacy, Head Carrier's best moments suggest they're heading in the right direction.

Lady Parts is a fun, slightly chaotic album that captures the creative spirit of golden age rap, updated for the damaged attention span of a generation raised on social media.

Light Falls retains the epic nature of Wrekmeister Harmonies' earlier offerings, but the scope is much more intimate, direct, and accessible. As a result, it may resonate with some as even more powerful.

Heartfelt and nostalgic, it's Tidal Wave's less sonically charged cuts like "Homecoming" and "I Felt It Too" that resonate most deeply, suggesting that while time may not heal all wounds, it can certainly lessen the pain.

While some of the lyrics may be a little too on the nose for some, regardless of age ("This crummy town is filled with wild boredom"), there is no age limit on angst or catharsis.

For the most part, Songs from the Pale Eclipse once again finds Bobby Hecksher following his muse through the night skies, and the chase continues to bring him worthy results.

As good as Still Corners are at fitting their music into a mold, the tension they create between city and seaside, as well as their pop and experimental impulses, is unique, and Dead Blue is most rewarding when they explore it fully.

It tends to be more atmospheric and less energized than the output of Dâm-Funk, but the inspiration of Ancheta's labelmate is unmistakable through all the lively keyboard work, chunky basslines that prance and prod, and adroit drum programming.

Strange Diary is an instantly appealing debut album that distills several years' worth of ups and downs into a set of sharp, affectionate tunes.

It's appropriate imagery: Mount Ninji is a hedonistic party in a trash heap.

On Chapter & Verse, "4th of July, Asbury Park" is positioned between "Growing Up" and "Born to Run," the fulcrum between the early years and the maturation, and that helps fuel the story Springsteen wants to tell with this album: he's not only illuminating the themes from his memoir, but illustrating how he grew as an artist. That he's able to tell that tale within the course of an 80-minute compilation is remarkable.

For now, Return to Love is a fun and occasionally moving throwback, filled with nicely catchy songs, familiar sounds, and the overwhelming sense that the band's love of the '90s is being transmitted directly to the listener minus any irony and/or distance.

With the aid of some incisive production work from Will Putney (Acacia Strain, Exhumed), as well as some creative left turns, they've delivered another solid, blast furnace-forged collection of working-class punk-metal that's as introspective as it is physical.

Not an essential Scratch album, but it still has plenty of inspired moments.

While Broadway fans wait, they and others who can embrace the album's occasional leaps in tone have another distinctly Spektor song set to enjoy. Ultimately, the sweetness that's always been as much a part of her musical persona as quirkiness overrides any embellishment, offering a touch of drama without pretension.

For anyone who shares Dupieux's warped sense of humor and has been eagerly following his career, this is yet another fascinatingly weird Mr. Oizo album.

Almost all of the guest MCs have an excellent chemistry with Keith, so the album is appropriately titled, and even with a large supporting cast, it still sounds unmistakably like a Kool Keith album.

Green Day have nothing more in mind than righting their ship, and that's precisely what they do.

Morrison delivers each of these songs with attentiveness; the material is consistently presented with finesse. Nothing further is required.

Toy doesn't sound especially innovative, but it certainly demonstrates that Yello haven't been resting on their laurels, and at its best, the album applies new thinking in electronic pop with the melodic and production approaches that have always been part of Yello's music, for a set that's fresh but unmistakably their work.

The album is a challenging listen but there's plenty of craft here, making it an improvement upon their debut.

It should come as no surprise that the second half suffers for its subdued pace; after all, Slaves are fashioned around the idea of being abrasive, not insightful.

It's still troubling that one of America's best songwriters seems to have lost the desire to pen new material, but For Better, or Worse shows John Prine hasn't lost his spirit as a performer.

The kinetic force that was missing on Shelter is a welcome (re)admission. Combined with the intense lyricism and dynamic contrasts, it makes for Alcest's most "complete" album since 2007's Souvenirs d'un Autre Monde.

Stay Together is undeniably upbeat and revels in its conviction to make you move.

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

The rest of the surprisingly accessible Smash the System follows suit, weaving in some solid singer/songwriter-y bits ("Bomber Jacket"), some Sleaford Mods-style post-punk ("Power of the Witch"), and even a dollop of neo-pagan Wicker Man-worship ("Cosmic Man"), all with a wink and a nod, of course.