Masters of mood that they are, Radiohead digitally weave stuttering, glitchy loops of drums and guitars with real instruments, Thom Yorke's mournful moan and keening falsetto acting as a binding agent, creating an alluringly dour atmosphere.

Going Out in Style finds Dropkick Murphys succeeding on multiple levels, delivering an album that's not only fun to pump your fists and sing along to, but also one that rewards repeated listens with its storytelling, making it an album that's just as fun through headphones as it is when played at maximum volume in the car.

Something Dirty is a powerful recording; let's hope this version of Faust remains together awhile: their collective focus is sharp and their execution nearly flawless even at their most delightfully excessive.

Capturing the intensity and raw emotion of her captivating live shows, Anna Calvi is an ambitious and always intriguing debut which heralds the arrival of a unique and inventive addition to the plethora of U.K. female singer/songwriters.

More confident, explosive, and produced than their lovable but ultimately flat-sounding debut, the aptly named Departing finds the trio ditching the living room scene for the road, carving out a solid collection of fiery, understated, nostalgia-laced indie pop gems that fly by like mile-markers.

Despite that plethora of knowing musical allusions, this is by no means a stale, cut-and-dried retro affair.

The Valley isn't necessarily a gloomy album, though; most of the anger is funneled into Chauntelle DuPree's guitar riffs, whose rawness is balanced by the girls' sweet, dreamy harmonies.

Tyevk are still at the best when they keep things short, snarky, and catchy, as on "Underwater 1's" sunken mental asylum rave-up or the road rage rant "Pricks in a Car." Nevertheless, Nothing Fits proves that they can change things up and still deliver music with visceral impact.

It would be easy to interpret Sun Bronzed Greek Gods as overly processed or too insincere, but the songs' bright textures, insistent beats, and sweet harmonies make them very buttery to the palate. Sometimes, that's enough.

The band should probably have just stuck to cranking out straightforward emo pop/rockers and let Cook's voice do the heavy lifting.

Since the singing is in Zulu for the most part, the focus on nature, children, and animals may not be immediately apparent to an English speaker, who will hear the disc as a typical collection of a cappella singing, with Shabalala taking a lead part in front of the group's harmonies on short, repeated phrases.

Crucially, the band brings just the right touch to these performances, their obvious fondness and reverence for the material never getting in the way of a loose, expressive feel, with some very fine bits of soloing and lots of enjoyably breezy ensemble playing.

If anything, Gloucester County proves that Smith is willing to let his unique style mature, which may at some point provide some insight into one of the underground's most elusive personalities.

What matters is that this is some of the most economical and effective songwriting of his career, bolstered as always by his appealingly understated delivery and gorgeously crafted musical settings. In short: another astounding, resounding East River Pipe triumph.

Sexy, transformative, and utterly impressive, Shapeshifting is a not simply a landmark album for Young Galaxy, but an unexpected joy to listen to again and again.

While the record may just seem like a pleasant diversion for two friends glad to have a chance to hang out and make music, it turns out to be fun for everyone else as well.

Retro-soul aficionados who claim they don't make 'em like they used to will obviously be thrilled with this, but even contemporary R&B fans can't help but be moved by the emotion and passion evident in every note of this riveting set.

These are the album's best songs, but the rest are good, too, and the whole is a worthy addition to the ever-growing catalog of sly Texas country-rock.

Fans of his live sets will wish this was mixed, but with a Skream mix of Major Lazer, a collaboration with Borgore, plus a freaky Lil Jon team-up you don't want to miss, the Diplo faithful should be well satisfied.

The lyrics are odd throughout the album but when they're dressed up with swooning harmonies, they always seem to make enough sense.

Malachai remain a fascinating, worthwhile, and essentially unique proposition, and there's still plenty to enjoy, for fans and newcomers alike, even in this somewhat diminished Return.

If the Go! Team can make a record this much fun, with this much style and skill, with this many well-chosen collaborators, and with this many hit songs every couple years, by the time they are done we'll be voting them into the Brilliant Pop Hall of Fame.

The change might not be as shocking as, say, when Bob Dylan went electric, but it's still something of a shock to hear the pastoral sound of the Cave Singers' past chopped down by plugged-in axes.

Non-vocal tones do occasionally pop up here, most notably some well-placed piano lines, but Barwick's voice is undeniably the focus here, in all its evocative, otherworldly glory.

You'd be hard-pressed to find better noise pop/rock than this in 2011.

He definitely deserves credit for going beyond the usual sounds you might hear on a modern singer/songwriter album and it works often enough to make the record a treat for anyone who wants something confessional and real but not boring.

Asleep on the Floodplain stands as a brilliantly constructed bridge between SOOA's For Octavio Paz and Sun Awakens, yet moves deftly and pronouncedly forward into previously uncharted terrain.

Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light, Vol. 1 represents a further shift in Earth's evolution. It is darker -- even sinister -- and undoubtedly heavier than Bees, but it is more seductive with its mantra-like droning repetition and more elegantly detailed in its textural dimension.

The best thing the album does is to showcase Adele's titanic vocal ability, which -- more than a few times on 21 -- is simply spine-tingling.

The overall effect of Ravedeath, 1972 is a balance between sheer sonic wooziness and a focused sense of construction; nothing seems wholly random in each song's development even as the feeling can be increasingly disorienting.

[Jamie xx] accomplishes a difficult task in successfully (re)presenting Scott-Heron's music -- integrity intact -- in the present tense to a fickle yet discerning groove-centric culture without kitsch or excess.

The Gathering is Arbouretum's "bridge too far"; there is no return because this set is a destination, not a development.

If you're a fan who may have been disappointed after the release of 2008's Shudder, this is the album you've been waiting for.

The songs are deliberately loose and minimalist -- intricacy tends to get lost in the booming, resonant halls of a factory -- but the substance that remains is strong, potent stuff.

The resulting record is a shiny, dreamy affair that retains all the hooks and feel of the first album but adds some energy and pop immediacy.

What My Disco might lack in dynamics, they more than make up with atmospherics, showing again and again on Little Joy that sparse arrangements can feel just as spacious as grander recordings.

For 12 Desperate Straight Lines, the songs are still there, only this time some of the looseness of the self-produced sessions comes into play and the end result ends up being a marked improvement.

Allo Darlin' is most reminiscent of these artists' earlier, scrappier efforts, but the sophistication is there, most crucially, in Morris' songs, which strike just the right balance of clever and heartfelt, wittily specific, and broadly relatable.

En Form for Bla feels of its own space and location rather than simply an addendum.

There are no embarrassing moments or dated sounds on House; just really great, slick and breezy pop.

Genre-hopping, Indianapolis-based singer/songwriter Liz Janes' fourth studio album for Asthmatic Kitty plays fast and loose with traditional indie pop themes.

The Year of Magical Drinking is a solid pop album in its own right, with all the economic hooks of a Fountains of Wayne record but none of that band's antiseptic production.

Sometimes this professionalism results in a tad too much slickness, particularly when the duo eases into ballads that surge so strongly no emotion registers, but when the JaneDear girls are flirting with tacky, spangly four-four beats and hook-heavy crossovers, they wind up with appealingly glitzy, crisp country-pop.

Doin' It Again is unlikely to cross over in the same way as its several collaborators have done, but hardcore grime fans should be satisfied that at least one of their originators hasn't surrendered to the ubiquitous electro-pop sound just yet.

Compared to the majority of the material on the parent releases, they're placid, ambient pieces that are not nearly as disturbed but recall the quiet menace of 23 Skidoo's Urban Gamelan and The Culling Is Coming, as well as the drum-less ambient dub side of Basic Channel.

His hopped-up hipster everyman with a bruised heart style is perfect for the band's small-club intensity, and the album leaps out of the speakers with an intense power that makes it more than just a commemoration of their 2010 tour; it's a vital addition to their already near-perfect catalog.

Sounding grand and intimate at the same time isn't easy, but on Old Friends, I Was a King make it seem as simple and as pleasurable as walking barefoot through the grass on a warm day.

If the music on Go-Go Boots is less physical than what the Drive-By Truckers typically deliver, it's emphatic and passionate, with an impressive sense of dynamics and as much soul as these folks have ever summoned in the studio -- they've rocked a lot harder, but they've never cut a more natural and telling groove.

Perhaps it lacks ballast and gestalt, but Bright Eyes arguably operates better on a smaller scale, trading pretension for fractured pop that cuts into the cranium with skewed precision.

Grown Unknown explores a kind of lost elegance: it's half drowned-in-gorgeous-reverb country of the kind Gram Parsons could nod sagely at, half stately post-'60s rock & roll as elegant mood music via the Band rather than Roxy Music.

This sprawling mosaic of 22 songs has more room for melody and nuance than any of their previous albums, and they divine many moods and sounds within their fuzz.

Lowery might not want to make a career out of his serious side, but The Palace Guards shows he can wise up and still make music that's smart and satisfying.

Sahel Folk is an enriching and meditative listening experience, and introduces another aspect of the great -- and seemingly inexhaustible -- Malian Songhai musical tradition to the West.

It's a light stop-gap to hold fans over until Rae's third album.

As a debut, Wondervisions makes for a great mission statement from Delicate Steve, showcasing the songwriters' ability to craft engaging and exploratory instrumentals while still being accessible and fun.

It's not that he's become Sinatra, but over the nine songs of the release he brings his ruminative, elegant creative ear to some excellent partners in the Magik Magik Orchestra.

So while this disc is clearly aimed at Killswitch fans, anybody with an appreciation for modern metal and hard rock generally could find much to like here.

As conceptually and contextually bold as Let England Shake is, it features some of Harvey's softest-sounding music.

It's a prickly landscape as off-kilter sounds meet off-kilter ideas, all as Beans does the relentless, stern delivery thing, kicking it poetry slam style and giving listeners no easy hook to hold onto as the avant whirlwind spins.

Dulli thrives on atmosphere, and while his inability to write the kind of sharp hooks or memorable choruses that have elevated other semi-dystopian malcontents into the relative mainstream is evident throughout the album, that sense of place makes Dynamite Steps feel less like a collection of songs and more like a long, dangerous, and unpredictable night on the town.

A great example of how compelling Sonic Youth's instrumental work is, even when it's as subtle as it is here, Simon Werner a Disparu stands among the band's best soundtrack work.

Their love of shoegaze and loud/quiet '90s guitar rock is unadulterated and it translates into the songs and the sound, making it a pure and easy-to-love album for all those who have ever been fans themselves.

While the album is far from rote, Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will certainly feels familiar; it may not be as immediately impressive as some Mogwai albums, but its back-to-basics approach makes it another fine addition to their body of work.

A few spins of the album will have much the same effect, and after a while you'll find yourself wishing that Goodman would ditch Vivian Girls and do La Sera full-time--especially if she and Hall can keep making records this wonderful.

The result is an affable album that soothes but rarely dazzles, and In the Cool of the Day winds up functioning better as a contemporary reading of older songs.

It is by its nature something quite other, that is at once strange and almost unspeakably beautiful.

While Savage and Kelly clearly get big kicks from genre-jumping and trying to trip out listeners, "Baby Boomer," "Michael Kelly," and "The World Never Stops" show that they can rock earnestly as well.

Anika is a bold, often fearless debut, and even if it's occasionally an acquired taste, it doesn't hedge its bets.

Concise yet ambitious, Guider finds Disappears firing on all cylinders and going far beyond Lux's promise.

At times, it almost feels like too much at once, but the band's music is so buoyant that to bring it down to earth too much would be a shame.

Even if the newly formed Canadian quartet is still searching for its individuality, when Suuns' strengths come together--as they often do on Zeroes QC--the mix of sparse beats, razor-wire guitar, and downer melodies can be compelling.

While there are a few moments where Violet Cries' potent atmosphere turns meandering and atonal, this is still a promising and often captivating debut from a band with a bold sound.

Just after returning from a European tour in support of their breakout debut, Girls upgraded their recording equipment and chose six of their favorite new songs for the surprisingly conventional-sounding Broken Dreams Club EP.

Although recorded with Midlake (the band even shares billing in the album's title), it feels more like a solo release, lacking both the cohesion of a proper lineup and the checks-and-balances system that Grant's former bandmates provided.

Mayfield's songs are darker, with more discontent, and all contain elements of the subtly sinister or perverse.

**** brings the Greenhornes back to the spotlight, sounding as good as they ever have, and in many respects, better. They're advised not to wait eight years before making another album, but if that's what it takes, the wait seems to be worth it.

Any band can go out, buy the right pedals (or dial up the right effects on a computer), and come up with a reasonable facsimile of the shoegaze sound, but it takes a band with extra skill and imagination to make it sound fresh and vital like No Joy do on Ghost Blonde.

This is another fascinating and unfashionable album from a band unwilling to cater to anyone's expectations except their own, and thriving because of it.

Thanks to its beauty, warmth, and top-rate songwriting, Cut Copy remain atop the pile of dance-rock groups in 2011, right next to LCD Soundsystem. Thanks to its beauty, warmth, and top-rate songwriting, Cut Copy remain atop the pile of dance-rock groups in 2011, right next to LCD Soundsystem.

Teddy Thompson doesn't answer all his questions about women on Bella (of course, for most guys, that would take a box set), but the ones he ponders here are smart and come from the heart, and it makes for an album that will please longtime fans while encouraging newcomers to hear what he has to offer.

Mostly, though, the album is burst after burst of cheerful, weird pop songs that will have you in a state of nostalgic happiness.

Life Coach is surprisingly mellow considering the heavier and louder sounds Manley has pursued for most of his career, but it's never boring: the way it encompasses the pop and avant sides of his music will please fans of his other work.

It may be nothing all that new, but whether it's a nostalgia trip or a first-time discovery of just how well noise and melody can blend together, Kudos is vital listening for indie rock fans in 2011.

It is these more upbeat electric moments on the album that truly stand out. That said, much of People Problems is filled with more acoustic, ruminative moments that, while pleasantly melancholic, detract somewhat from Oh No! Oh My!'s more driving pop inclinations.

Minks leave listeners wanting more on By the Hedge, a debut that sounds timeless and surprising.

Slightly more upfront and extroverted than their early recordings, this album is still instantly recognizable, and fans who go back to their last Warp LP, Succour, might be surprised at how little has changed with Seefeel over 15 years.

It's easy to guess that most of the guys paid tribute to here wouldn't know what to make of the tracks, but if anything here leads the average garage rock-loving Dirtbombs fan back to the sounds of Detroit techno, the album will have done its job.

There is a lot to admire here and maybe that's the main problem....he often favors rambling, low-key country numbers that get you to quietly consider the bittersweet nature of our existence rather than lose yourself in the song.

She's created a visionary American music that extends its traditions as it embraces others, free of borderlines. City of Refuge shines from West to East, from South to North--and beyond.

Little was done to clean them up: they're rough, woolly, and loose, but they rock.

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.

It's proof that, once again, Deerhoof can craft something fresh and different after so many albums. In their world, evil and boredom are practically the same thing, and Deerhoof vs. Evil triumphs against both.

Characteristically, Mondanile's outings have a sketchpad feel to them, and there are quite a few half-finished ideas onboard, including a dreamy ten-minute outro of simple fingerpicking to the echoes of faraway fireworks. However, a few standouts bring Arcade Dynamics to life.

Where previous outings like This Night and Streethawk: A Seduction mined the '70s for inspiration, 2011's Kaputt utilizes '80s sophisti-pop, New Romantic, Northern soul, and straight-up adult contemporary to deliver a flawed but fascinating record.

Perhaps the performances aren't enough to warrant a reassessment or revival, but they're consistently strong and a testament to Pearl Jam's endurance.

A welcome surprise in all of this comes by way of White Lies' ability to break up the gloom with the occasional soaring moment.

The story behind Tennis and Cape Dory are nice; the music is better.

Standell-Preston's vocals can border on grating, and sometimes the band's approach feels formless instead of abstract. Nevertheless, Braids' uniquely feminine experimental pop is largely a success.