Touch has a better batch of songs than All I Have.

Mirrorwriting is an encouraging first offering which should neatly fill the spacious, indie R&B gap until the XX's next record comes along, but if it could have sustained the quality of its opening six tracks, it could have been much better.

Whatever the case may be, what's left is a record with some promise but too many flaws to be truly enjoyable.

As immediate as Life and Times isn't nearly as diamond-hard as "Copper Blue," which is a great part of its appeal: it flows naturally, the music never pushes, it settles, comfortable in its own skin.

A relatively disjointed assembly of tracks seemingly drawn from working folders labeled like "athletic anthems," "theatrical intros and interludes," "almost pop," "space ballads," and "misc."

While Wilson's always refreshingly brash as a vocalist, the arrangements are only satisfactory.

When Human Again ditches the feel-good stuff and goes straight into drama-queen territory, though, it feels like we're finally getting to watch Michaelson come to grips with her broken heart, realizing that the only way to make things better is to fix the damn thing herself.

Like strangers arguing in public or a weary couple who went out to dinner just to break up loudly in the restaurant, Acousmatic Sorcery offers a similar, sometimes unbearably honest look into a very personal world.

If there's a flaw here, it's that there's little change from song to song in pace and approach, but then, this is a duo built around simply hitting the pedal and going, clattering and thundering along, impossible to ignore.

Going by the level of potential shown here, it's evident that Cara will eventually need a lot less creative assistance.

After a unifying, spirit-lifting house warm-up that almost sounds live enough to have been recorded at a small loft party, Something Like a War gets down to private business. Vulnerability, patience, action, and uninhibited expression are all upheld as imperatives for intimacy.

From Zero is a decent effort that contains all the band's hallmarks, even if it's not the exact same Linkin Park that is known and loved.

A house party celebrating Snoop's whole career.

If Future had simply focused on these standouts, The Wizrd could be impeccable. However, given its runtime and filler moments, this remains yet another serviceable trap buffet that would benefit from some trimming to maximize impact and allure.

Though the first two volumes of Meet the Woo lacked the bombast of Smoke's iconic singles, they demonstrated candor in their representation of the drill heavyweight; SFTSAFTM, by contrast, tarnishes the rapper's visionary style with predatory glitz as everyone jumps for a piece of the pie.

This ambitious use of resources and influences could very easily end up creating an album that sounded severely disjointed, even incoherent, but k-os is able to make something that, despite the diversity between tracks, works very much as a whole.

Admittedly, his embrace of slick pop aesthetics, Rat Pack swagger, and cheeky turns of phrase can be a bit much on first listen. But that being said, when it's backed with a strong hook and just a modicum of earnest emotion, as on the sanguine club jam "Hey Look Ma, I Made It," it's hard to deny.

It's an impressive and formidable debut, one that begs for analogies to the glaciers, jagged landscapes, and northern lights of her native country.

The musicians find a common ground within the eerie mysteries of old folk tunes and turn those strange sounds into something reassuring, if not quite comforting.

When We Stay Alive captures every nuance of Leaneagh's journey with unflinching honesty.

It crash-lands, abruptly ending an album that, depending on the amount of time spent with it, will seem either fragmentary and hollow or fathoms deep--either a trifle or among the group's most remarkable work.

Only Built for Infinity Links is an energetic, fun, and multifaceted project from Migos members Quavo and Takeoff that stays lively and keeps away from the type of filler that can drag down mainstream rap albums and mixtapes.

A certain kind of playfulness reigns throughout much of the album.

No matter the mood and subtle variation in sound, Fulvimar is in full control at all times, and while some may miss the garage punk style of the first album, Shine Your Light is an impressive change-up that will thrill those who stick around.

It might make their fans happy, but for a band that claims to be dangerous and rebellious, it goes a long way towards reinforcing the fact that the JAMC are no longer either of those things.

That Lucky Old Sun rarely approaches the subtleties of the classic Beach Boys sound. What it evokes instead is the driving '70s productions on latter-day Beach Boys albums like "15 Big Ones" and "Love You."

It’s evident that hits--more specifically, appealing to younger listeners-- is the goal....Sex Therapy, however, enlists Snoop Dogg, Jay-Z, the Game, Kid Cudi, and Nicki “Stick shift the ding-a-ling” Minaj--not to mention Estelle and Jazmine Sullivan, both of whom contribute excellent background vocals on their respective appearances.

Ultimately, Busting Visions is a sprawling yet thoughtfully constructed album full of backwoods, sandals, and sunburn rock with enough slippery electric guitar work, backing vocals, chiming bells, plinky pianos, and various freaky percussion bits to qualify as a kind of modern-day hippie noodle-rock opus.

In A World Out of Time, ET have given listeners a near perfect balance of precision and exploration that walks the tightrope between organic live playing and focused studio attention.

Overall, Issa is a competent statement that demonstrates promise from the young rapper.

Let Me Come Home never really develops into the lump in the throat it wants to be, though it certainly isn't for lack of trying.

Sob Rock is a pleasant album whose thematic '80s affections add some stylistic flair to Mayer's laid-back songs.

Cope is more than just the sound of a band getting by; it's the sound of Manchester Orchestra at their best.

As its title suggests, Welcome the Worms is a portrait of embracing life's changes and challenges and growing stronger in the process.

Luda hasn't slipped into the complacent lap of luxury as deeply as some of his fellow platinum contemporaries, but it's evident that he's not as hungry as he once was.

Magnifique doesn't show a ton of artistic growth or progression; it's more of a rebranding that tightly focuses on their strengths and passes them to the consumer like a sharp, swift punch to the brain and feet.

The result is another eclectic, iconoclastic record that doesn't sound like anything else happening in the world. That the Go! Team can sound as fresh and inventive on Semicircle as they did when they started is an impressive, almost miraculous, feat that defies nature and defines triumphant joy.

A significant departure from the band's previous works, marking a new approach to songwriting.

Ultimately this album is neither the triumph or the disaster that it could've been.

It is a relief to hear that although Cash's voice is clearly older and not the booming powerhouse it was in the earlier Sun and Columbia days, he's still got some punch left in him.

The music is livelier and almost exuberant at times, and certainly more varied that on the last album.

With 33 tracks in 42 minutes (each averages around one minute), the four-piece is anarchic and weird, yet -- best of all -- still strangely maintains a certain charm.

Comes off as a mix between the White Stripes' bluesy insouciance and AC/DC's cockeyed swagger.

Elkington has crafted an uplifting, despondent, and always atmospheric collection of elegant indie rock that never takes itself too seriously.

A compelling and touching record.

Despite the occasional stuffiness, there's a lot of good material here and it's all executed well, but it's hard not to shake the feeling that this is a collection of leftovers masquerading as a main course.

...And the Ever Expanding Universe is a small wonder that easily confirms the Most Serene Republic's status as one of the most impressive acts on a Toronto pop scene that is already producing a bounty of exciting music.

All Birds Say isn't concerned with aping anyone else's sound, though, and it wields the sort of casual confidence that's rarely heard on a sideman's solo project. If Carl Broemel ever decides to quit his day job, he's got a promising future here.

Fantastic Explanations (And Similar Situations) makes something fresh and powerful from Novak's influences, and if the ingredients to this cocktail are pretty simple to figure out, that doesn't mean it's not strong enough to knock you out.

On the whole, however, the album is a pleasant throwback to earlier styles of pop, country, and jazz.

Fight Like Apes are neither catchy nor profound enough--romantic brooding and trashy partying are mutually exclusive--but that's exactly what makes this band genuine, because that problem, after all, has never stopped generations of teens from going for both moods at once, just as Fight Like Apes do here.

In many ways, In Light splits the difference between the peppy pseudo-Afro pop of Vampire Weekend and the percussive, improv-heavy dance rock of Local Natives. That might be a bit of a knock against In Light if it wasn't such an accomplished, ambitious debut.

13 doesn't really feel like one of the man's most inspired or immortality-bound efforts, but rather just another reminder of Wino's prolific consistency.

Since he's operating on a small scale, none of this soars or rocks--the way In Reverse or Girlfriend did, respectively--yet the charm of Modern Art is its intimacy.

If summery and slick, no-frills pop-punk is what you crave, look no further.

This is one of those very rare electronica albums that actually rewards deep and repeated listening.

More cinematic, melodic, and mellow than their usual experimental indie pop output.

City Awakenings feels like it belongs to the short-lived era when Travis were the biggest band in Britain, but it's still a charming return from one of Scottish pop's unsung heroes.

Island Fire wends its way through a variety of approaches, all of which have her own stamp on them first and foremost.

Crotch-grabbing tracks might crash into a convincing emo-rap number and these proven wordsmiths might have left more room for guests and hooks than they probably should have, but just because their indie debut was a more cohesive showcase doesn't mean the joy and pain of Welcome to Our House isn't worth the required sorting.

The Salesman and the Shark is head and shoulders above the work of most of Rowe's peers, and he possesses a strong identity as a songwriter, even if he doesn't feel confident completely relying on it yet.

Sirens perhaps works best when it's not totally in thrall to grunge and the band allow themselves to enter unchartered terrain.

Even though the music apparently went through a significant studio process, it's difficult to shake the feeling that it would be preferable to hear the original compositions while witnessing the production.

Some moments it's hard to ignore how much he sounds like his father, and at times, the genuflection at the altar of Elliott Smith gets a little too doe-eyed and derivative, but the strengths of Simon's songwriting and the atmospheric production keep these concerns in the background of a colorful and evocative bigger picture.

This grandiose set of songs cobbled together from decaying sound scraps has all the ominous mystery and majesty of a silent twilight, and all the implied struggle of the abandoned structures where and from which it was created.

Marius Bubat and Georg Conrad, assisted by an assorted cast who visited their Cologne, Germany studio--including vocalists Ada and Edi Winarni, and a handful of instrumentalists--have made one of the Kompakt label's more entertaining and less serious albums.

C-Lance, Rob the Viking, and Aspect handle the production on this busy, word-filled, and winning effort.

The best songs on Fantasy are easily the best in Lightning Dust's catalog because of this winning combination of pushed boundaries and inspired writing.

By the album's second half, Avenged Sevenfold can't help but let loose their guitar shredding theatrics a bit, and their personality starts to shine through as the tempo quickens and tracks take flight to unabashed height

Sleigh Bells' studies in contrasts aren't shocking anymore, but the fact that they sound more natural on Bitter Rivals makes this some of their most enjoyable music since Treats.

Last Patrol ties things up nicely with the one-two punch of "Strobe Light Beatdown" and "One Dead Moon," the former a blistering garage rock rager and the latter a midnight power ballad that shakes its fist at the inky blue and then disappears into its gaping maw.

About Last Night shows that Sleeper Agent have diversity and ideas to spare, but the album's more mainstream approach regrettably removes much of their bite.

Caves may not have been the follow-up fans expected of her, but as Tristen's artistry continues to evolve, future left turns such as this will be welcome.

This is a promising debut with flashes of brilliance that shine even brighter considering Pulos and Laffer's youth when they made it.

An album that just becomes more engaging with time, The Golden Echo lives up to its name: it refashions the best of what came before it into something alluringly modern and a lot of fun.

These songs may be about ambivalence, but Park grows more confident with each release.

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.

Even the contrasting consecutive picks--like Darkstar's glistening, skyward "Hold Me Down" and Holy Other's dragging, alien "Yr Love"--are compatible, their transitions made with ease. The majority of the mix is beatless and becalmed with periodic surges in energy that never startle.

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.

Established fans will likely welcome the new developments; it's not a shift in style so much as in attitude, and her relatable introspection is in full force, just at a different stage--still searching but looking toward the light.

The Machine Stops sounds like Hawkwind--a diluted version of what they sounded like at their peak, to be sure, but still Hawkwind, as eccentric and individual as ever.

If getting a live, rough demo energy was the goal, then the Heavy have succeeded. While the album never sounds lo-fi, the production nonetheless has the taut, confrontational energy of a basement punk show or old-school juke-joint performance.

Material is the black celebration that Depeche Mode foresaw, sparkling party music for the downcast masses.

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.

Thirteen years on, that's still who Busted are, just three grown-up lads supplying a soundtrack to a night out on the town, even if their fans are now just as likely to be picking their kids up that night as hitting the clubs.

A hard sell that pays off with a lasting impression.

In all, Boxing the Moonlight is a solid follow-up, offering a bit more of the variety that fans of this indie supergroup might have expected the first time around.

Tthe effect is utilitarian for lethargic revelers and humorous for teetotalers.

The album covers a lot of ground, switching between abstract interpretations of plush soul to dark, nervy club music from track to track, and the group maintains its focus throughout, resulting in a rich, engrossing experience.

Not everyone who digs Donovan's more rock-oriented projects will connect completely with How to Get Your Record Played in Shops, but if you want to experience his musical vision in primal form, this merits your time and attention.

A thoughtfully curated soundtrack, Bohemian Rhapsody offers a compelling narrative of Queen's storied arc into rock legend.

Myth of a Man ultimately feels more like a Danny Lee Blackwell solo project than a Night Beats album, but it's a very good Blackwell solo album--a largely successful creative detour that shows he has more up his sleeve than expected, though fans of his more raucous sessions may be a bit thrown by it.

Inspired by the disconnect and toxicity of social media, and the general discord sewn when the internet and the ego collide, Egowerk evokes the friction-fueled lo-fi emissions of the band's early days, but with a more measured hand.

Stray Cats spit out allusions to their idols and classic oldies, nod at surf rock and country mythos, play a few blues shuffles, and generally have a whale of a good time. It's notable that these high spirits are evident on a reunion album because they were largely absent on the trio's previous reunions: this time, it sounds like the group is in it for fun, and that makes a huge difference.

This album of skeletal club tracks might be a bit puzzling to listeners who prefer Aguayo's more song-based efforts, but it's definitely worthwhile for anyone keeping an ear to the vanguard of global club music, particularly labels like Príncipe Discos.

Beneath the Eyrie isn't just the best Pixies 2.0 album to date -- it suggests they just might be stepping out of the shadow of their legendary past.

Even though it's focused on loss -- in life and in love -- Perdida ends up feeling like a rebirth, losing the past to make way for the future. Like the barren tree on the album cover, life eventually blooms again in time.

Candid's mellow transcriptions and restrained approach may or may not draw praise from admirers of the source material, but they're a must for fans of the group's distinctly reflective demeanor and bubble-wrapped ambiance, which, guided by Ehrlich's soothing presence, succeed in making each version their own.