Whether or not they decide to revive their ongoing album mythology, Scaled and Icy will remain a quick dose of TOP perfection, a lean catalog gem that is bright, effervescent, and immensely addictive.

While Brown's songwriting isn't always as sharply honed as it's been in the past, Time Flies is a fine example of just how much fun, and how therapeutic, well-crafted pop can be.

Like his other albums, the music is all very beautiful, if somewhat ephemeral. It's hard to pick out a memorable melody among these ten poignant missives, which tend to run together in a bittersweet blur.

Old Ian Tyson and Hoyt Axton tunes do a better job of articulating his aesthetic than Wall himself, which suggests that all his period flair and plainspoken delivery are just affectations.

With most of the songs clocking in at under three minutes, when the album ends on the dramatic, 127-second "Blue Monday," with its tight, Beatles-styled harmonies and death-stained lyrics, it feels abrupt, but that may be also due to Konschuh's refusal to deliver catharsis, breaks in the clouds, or healing.

White doesn't aim for emotional grandiosity on Inner Day, but uses the album as a place to collect some spare instrumental musings and let them float around before one idea fades into the next.

It's all fine and good, but it lacks the excitement of the Buzzcocks' salad days.

This is a deliriously jumbled, left-field delight.

Heavy Rocks is diverse; but since it relies on the trio's blasting power over form, it is is more consistent than Smile and sounds like a refreshed and renewed Boris back on deck.

This is the perfect type of album for people who think dubstep is too singular and great proof that there are still possibilities for expansion in the genre.

It may not be the most immediately exciting album of his career, but it is the most impressive and affecting.

Just Who I Am just manages from sinking into adult contemporary murk, even if it's hard to shake the feeling that Chesney is spending too much time acting how his audience expects him to be instead of just being who he is.

Exit Strategy of the Soul isn't just an experiment that succeeds, it's one of Sexsmith's strongest and most affecting works to date, and it's truly a pleasure to hear.

While there are some changes in pace here and there--the quicker, tenser "The Promise"; the piano-led title track that concludes the album; the short, fierce instrumental "Easter Island"--generally the album is a bit of a blur, shifting moods here and there without fully distinguishing itself track by track.

Smoke never sounds dated or rehashed--instead, it's a fresh, consistently creative, and consistently listenable debut.

The benevolent spirit in ["HER Love"] and almost all of the other tracks makes the strong-arming "Hercules" and the retribution tale "Fifth Story" seem like misplaced throw-ins.

Revealing McRae as a potent voice and keen ear that can deliver emotion and excitement in equal measure.

Sometimes it's enough to write really catchy and fun songs and play them with a minimum of fuss. Harlem has done that on Hippies, and for that, they deserve all kinds of praise.

As with many of his songs, the lyrical value (clever, cerebral) is far greater than the musical value (sluggish, meandering). It's much more about delivering a message and provoking debate than replays.

The lack of instrumental country accouterments heightens the album's stylized spaciness; it's not earthbound, it floats upon a breeze. Sometimes, Rosegold threatens to drift away yet it's never threadbare: it's a singular mood piece, one that suits a spell of twilight reflection.

This strong debut points to even stronger, more focused work from Foy down the line.

All in all, Slurrup is a smile-inducing reminder that it's too easy to pigeonhole him as just a master craftsman--and that Hayes' pop is arguably even more potent when it's not quite as elaborate.

It's not clear if the album is truly meant to be a new direction for Washed Out or a sort of clearing out of the past to make way for something new; either way it sounds pleasing and easy, like the work of someone not trying to make the masses happy, but instead making music that comes naturally to him.

It sounds like it was worth the wait for Sandoval and O'Ciosoig and it's a welcome return for fans of her music, and also for fans of late-night, melancholy balladry that will break your heart and ease you gently into dreams.

One Fast Move or I'm Gone might have evoked Jack Kerouac more vividly with other vocalists besides Farrar, but as a composer and producer, he's done right by his lyricist, and the results are modest but rewarding.

While every song is undeniably weird and sometimes crowded to the point of confusion, Schuster-Craig never loses the plot, exerting complete control over a set of tunes almost as delightfully catchy as they are perplexing.

Adding harmonies from Curtis Hall, Ron Lewis, and Jeff Montano helps to thicken the melody, and Grand Archives revolves around the strong singalong hooks that turn this debut into a soft rock record for the indie crowd.

Add a short runtime and You Disgust Me feels like an inflated EP of lost tracks and hidden heat, so marvel at their more crafted and conceptual albums, then come back here for a more free-form sampler of strange.

There may be moments that give fans expecting another laidback psych record pause, but on the whole the band succeed in refurbing their template and coming up with something that's both extremely chill and interesting at the same time.

As it is, if you delete the missteps, you can cherry-pick a really strong, really simple '80s pop EP from the remains.

Those only aware of Pepe Deluxé through their Levi-assisted one-hit wonder won't know what hit them, but fans who have continued to keep up with their abstract brand of electronica should enjoy most of the ride.

This is Guided by Voices sounding free and wild, and it's ultimately more satisfying than any of the "classic lineup" GbV reunion efforts that appeared between 2012 and 2014.

From start to finish, Big Boi is so at ease with assured nonchalance that he blithely makes references to a mass murderer and an alleged serial rapist, and occasionally slips into some other juvenile business. Otherwise, he's in elite statesman form. He and his collaborators likewise don't seem all that concerned about the album's place in contemporary rap, and it's all the better for it.

Only bummer for loyal fans is that five of these tracks are repeated from the Internet Leaks EP, but ignore that redundancy, and Al remains the undisputed king of the parody song.

Conversations ends up a fine debut from the band, tightly focused and carefully constructed but still filled with plenty of understated heart.

Pink Friday 2 lacks the cohesion and self-editing that would make it a rightful follow-up to her 2010 mainstream arrival. As it stands, Pink Friday 2 is another collection of Nicki Minaj songs, most of them exhilarating and fun, but some forgettable or awkwardly placed.

An album that's more like the Walkmen's concerts than the meticulously crafted sound of their other albums.

Still, the best songs have more than enough energy and creativity to prevent this album from being an Awkward sophomore slump.

Fantasia doesn't invest the songs with subtle emotion so much as she indulges in balls-out emotional overdrive, overloading these simple songs with histrionics that are compelling in the short term and even if they're exhausting over the long haul these full-throttle pyrotechnics make Back to Me her most interesting album.

His mixtapes certainly feel more "alive" and offer more variety, but couple them with this deeper, hard-hitting album, and the full Young Dolph picture becomes both clear and more attractive.

Blue is an inarguably impressive full-length debut in terms of Communions' ability to evoke the sound and mood of a particular time and place, but it might be a stronger work if the groupmembers had actually witnessed the time and place themselves.

Banks packs enough energy and zeal at the starting line to duly lay waste to whoever was foolish enough to break her heart.

Maybe this isn't a major record, but it's thoroughly likeable record that doesn't lose its charm on repeated plays.

The material tends to be kind of insidious, rather than hitting you immediately or going through one ear and out the other, and it's significantly more R&B-oriented.

Fast Times at Barrington High doesn't go to the hoop with every song, but it scores more than enough points to make it a career highlight, not to mention one of the best emo albums (whatever that means) of 2008.

This is a rare talent and while it's not perfect, largely due to those dreary Tedder tunes, much of All I Ever Wanted does justice to Clarkson's considerable skills.

It might not be the full-length follow-up to You Are All I See that Active Child fans are waiting for, but brevity aside, the high quality of the songs on Rapor more than fulfills on Grossi's promise.

Some moments aren't the best--his duet with Jack Goldstein, "My Girl," stumbles a bit at the start--but such killers as "Fell 4 U" with Glasser and "Fathering/Mothering" with Anne Lise Frokedal showcase both his ear for vocal counterparts and his immediate, beautiful arrangements.

A greater combination of accessibility and subversion would be nearly impossible to imagine.

Thrives on its mixture of fuller-sounding productions and relatively traditionally-structured songs with vocals.

Remarkably varied, lush, and fascinating from start to finish, #1 is a great album.

Hearing Miller's unmistakable singing and songwriting style without Murry Hammond's backing vocals and the rest of the 97's chunky country-rock-pop behind him seems a little less than it could be.

The most successful songs are those that either embrace their influences so fully that they become glorious reproductions or those that dispense with the idol worship altogether.

A perfect commingling of the spirits of dub reggae and mid-'70s soul and groove jazz.... NdegeOcello's finest moment on record thus far.

He has moved on from the effervescent prettiness of his former band to make music for himself -- something the Verve might have done somewhere in time, but it wouldn't have been so honest or stripped as this solo jaunt

If you are unfamiliar with the band, there are at least six other records that should get your attention before this one; just the same, this is hardly a disposable piece of the band's puzzle.

Though their words suggest such weighty topics, the album remains sonically airy. It might get tense, but it's never dense.

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.

Alice in Chains are now firmly entrenched in their middle age and settling into what they do best: retaining their signature without pandering and, tellingly, without succumbing to the darkness that otherwise defines them.

Having grabbed their career by the horns with Mechanical Bull, it's clear that Kings of Leon aren't letting it get away from them anytime soon.

Grand isn't as majestic as its name suggests, with only a handful of songs moving past the anxious minimalism that permeated the last album. For returning fans, though, Grand provides a familiar brand of punk music for happy people, for lovebirds, for those who wish Mates of State had more swagger and less glockenspiel.

With durable songs, classic melodies, an idiosyncratic manner, wit, and a transportive quality to the arrangements, it'd be greedy to ask much more of a singing songsmith.

While the music here isn't as good as that on Bachelor, the strict structure does help give The Forgotten Arm direction, helping shape it into one of her more consistent albums.

With so many tracks, there's something for every mood and listener, a lengthy collection of familiar sounds punctuated with just enough choice cuts to keep it interesting.

A funhouse mirror of an album, Mini Mansions is a few shades lighter than Rekords Rekords' usual output, but it's still twisted and catchy enough to win over those more familiar with Shuman's day job.

Taking a step away from their homespun beginnings into something more real could have gone all wrong, but Kids in L.A. proves that Kisses have what it takes to bring their songs and sound out of the bedroom and into the real world.

For the Good Times [is] colorful and quietly engaging.

Never short on material for various low-profile releases, the jams on Wild Strawberries are more considered and inspired than any of Eternal Tapestry's previous work, and present the most cohesive picture of their long, strange progression.

It's nothing more than a couple of old friends sitting around and cracking jokes to each other. If you happen to share their sensibility, it's a fun way to spend 50 minutes.

On the whole, Sounds of the Universe is a grower, relying on a few listens to fully take effect, but when it does, it shows Depeche Mode are still able to combine pop-hook accessibility and their own take on "roots" music for an electronic age with sonic experimentation and recombination.

The Way I Am crystallizes that primal need for grounding via an assured set of songs rooted in themes of family, gratitude, mental health, and retaining authenticity amid the chaos of fame.

It's a joy to hear, and it's comforting that Sainte-Marie is still writing amazing songs, taking firm social and political stands, performing with spirit, joy, and passion, and pretty much doing what she's always done.

Given what a mixed bag tribute albums usually are, Dedicated is not only a surprise for its consistency, but a shining example of what they can--and should--be.

Despite being a bit of a downer for some, these qualities and the improvisatory feel of the guitar work as their songs unfold (however well-rehearsed in reality) may well induce engaged and repeat listening, even for the sanguine.

Most of the record's 11 songs are graced by provocative sounds lurking at the margins of the mix--something that sounds like a music box on "Halfway There," a saloon piano on "Rest of Me," all the compressed guitars as percussion--that help elevate this set of strong, sophisticated pop into something special.

Here and Now is good enough that you can't help but wish Holsapple and Stamey cut another album before they start getting their Social Security checks.

It's not a deep, demanding album, but it is a pleasant, often charming listen.

Anyone expecting the bar rock bravado of the Hold Steady is probably going to be disappointed by Clear Heart Full Eyes' subdued vibe, but anyone looking for more of Craig Finn's sprawling tales will feel right at home.

While some of this album feels a bit rushed at times, as a whole Tomorrow Morning is a welcome contrast to the darkness of its predecessors, and a deft summertime pop record. Lord knows, a little optimism in these strange times is welcome--even if it comes from an unlikely source.

A sizeable shift in tone and emotion from 2022's excellent Faith in the Future, this equally-enjoyable release finds Tomlinson on a winning 2020s streak.

Even though the album's well-intentioned concepts don't always work, Rostron remains an artist with bold ideas.

It captures him as a working musician, pushing his first album hard, trying to get his name and music known, not caring about anything outside of the moment--all things that offer a potent, stirring reminder of Buckley's power and grace.

Ghostory is as lushly layered as ever, with spectral textures and propulsive dance rhythms, both programmed and played, equally affecting.

Windy City leaves no doubt that she has the talent and the intelligence to make it work, and this album is a richly satisfying experience.

Like their disappointing 2014 album ...Honor Is All We Know, Trouble Maker is the sound of a band going through the motions, telling the same stories over and over, bashing out the same riffs, and ultimately not connecting any punches.

There are no surprises, but when you do something this well, there doesn't need to be.

Producers Shawty Redd, Nottz, and A-Traxx all contribute bottom-heavy stunners while West, Diddy, Juicy J, and Young Jeezy add the right amount of outside influence, making this just a tad more "fun" than your usual casket drop from Clipse.

Ultimately, Death of a Bachelor marks the final transformation of Panic! At the Disco from egalitarian emo band to collaborative pop band headed with singular charisma by Urie the uncontested chairman.

The nice thing about Day & Age is that not only is Flowers' voice relatively buried, the Killers are unwittingly comfortable with their ludicrous, outsized pop, which turns the album into terrifically trashy pop. Not the serious rock they yearn to be by any means, but these fashionable threads fit them better anyway.

No Business is one of the least surprising albums Negativland has yet done, but one entity's repetition is another's source of continuing inspiration, and the end results are familiarly entertaining.

You've got to credit Brown and his songwriters and producers for cranking out another handful of easy to remember hits that cover the bases, from upbeat and carefree numbers to go-to mixtape ballads that push all the right target-demographic buttons.

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.

On Perfect Darkness, Fink sticks to the excellent template he developed around 2006, and in its best moments, the record offers sounds on par with anything off his previous two records: the same taut folky guitar, the same delicate grooves, and the same quiet, reserved vocals all rolled into one laconic, low-key package.

If some songs breeze by without sticking, other songs like the two-part "Point of Go," split between a calmer and a more energetic section defined by the drumming, stand out.

Pre Language is some of Disappears' most confident, most accessible music yet.

While Blood Speaks may lack the immediate hooks of its predecessor, it's got longer legs, deeper corners, and attitude to spare.

It's not uncommon for artists to lose a little of their music's heart when they upgrade their sonics, but The Inner Mansions is equally emotional and polished, and some of Teen Daze's finest work.

After a pair of bombastic anthems--including the oddly written "Girl on Fire," which has her "living in a world, and it's on fire," then "on top of the world" with "both feet on the ground" and "our head in the clouds"--the album loses its grip.