An impressive first full-length from an artist equally adept at intricate productions and affecting songwriting, Without Your Love brings all of Greenspan's talents together in a satisfying whole.

Eleventh Hour is certainly not a disappointment: Del's as good of a rapper as ever, and the way he fits his words into the beats, playing with his and their cadence, is truly spectacular, but he needs to challenge himself--and his listeners--more, lyrically and beat-wise, instead of relying on the same tried-and-true methods, if he really wants to continue his legacy.

Overall Ladd has made a divine album indeed.

This is the sound of seasoned veterans still finding new ways to play old favorites.

Most of the time, however, the band's blazing energy and instrumental swagger is able to lift your spirits despite the depressing subject matter.

Bring Ya to the Brink is one of the more intriguing detours along the way.

An easy recommendation for fan club members and/or serial killers. Everyone else has two or three better Cooper concepts to devour first.

Surprising as it may be, coming from masters of the quick-cut DJ collage, The Search Engine is a journey worth taking from beginning to end, uninterrupted.

Herve Vincenti and Philippe Petit's collective group retains its neo-no wave/industrial clatter on From Beyond Love, again recruiting a variety of guest vocalists track for track to extend the feeling of a decentralized, ever-shifting effort.

Yeah, there are electric guitars everywhere, and this is a nice-sounding band, but, given the caliber of the talent, it would seem the songs should be better instead of just bounce-offs for guitar pyrotechnics.

The album feel as though it's fighting with itself, ultimately leaving the record feeling more conflicted than confrontational.

Jones has forged multiple careers by fusing disparate yet compatible musical styles together to make wholly new yet comfortably recognizable pop music. Ultimately, that's exactly what Kitty, Daisy & Lewis have done here.

With the fountain of material springing out of Newcombe's Berlin studio in the first part of the 2010s, the quality level has been rather hit or miss, but Something Else is a solid effort and somewhat of a return to form for the veteran band.

Overall, Dwell is a stirring album best enjoyed at home during the middle of winter, when the weather renders venturing outdoors a fool's task.

Unlike his previous albums, the play times on Dead Hand Control vary widely, with tracks sometimes transitioning into one another. It ultimately has the effect of a night out at the club or, more precisely, a series of 12" extended dance mixes à la the 1980s that are cued up among radio cuts.

While the title track is ostensibly a song about a couple falling in love, the track, as with much of Good Together, could just as easily work as a love letter penned by the members of Lake Street Dive to each other.

Noel's High Flying Birds is tasteful, mannered craftsmanship.

This is the most comfortable Alpers has sounded making music, and the result is some of her best work yet.

It's the songs rather than the production that will keep repeat listeners coming back, even if they don't notice at first, or 20th, or 50th, and the marriage of the two works so well that folks are likely not to care why.

An ambitious work by an artist intent on developing her total sound, Halcyon finds Goulding poised at the edge of artistic and career possibilities.

Street of the Love of Days is a well-conceived, perfectly executed album that captivates you right from the beginning and doesn't let go until well after the album stops spinning.

Freeze, Melt is a daring move for the band; they aren't exactly turning their backs on the huge, happy sound that earned them their glittering place in the dance rock firmament, but they do bring their sound down to earth in admirable, emotionally affecting fashion. In the process, they prove that they don't need to make music that's great to dance to in order to make music that's great.

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.

Yessir Whatever suffers from being disjointed and a bit too much like a sketchbook, but the album is pulled together from 12 years of archival recordings, some of them previously released on rare comps and out-of-print vinyl.

Worship the Sun was pretty great garage rock revivalism filtered through a gently psychedelic filter; Calico Review might be even better.

They may not be the kind of band to curl up with on a rainy night anymore, but they make the leap to a poppier, more expansive sound with stylish grace and keep just enough of the mystery intact to stay interesting.

On this record, Yorn seems to master mood more than tune, but that winds up being to his benefit. This tonal elasticity gives ArrangingTime an enveloping warmth, one that is alluring even if it tends to shift concentration away from the songwriting that allegedly was his greatest strength.

While it's easy to admire the craft behind Forced Witness, it's a little harder to embrace the album as a whole--and not necessarily in the ways Cameron may have intended.

More than a reductive "Zayn goes country" album, the beautiful Room Under the Stairs is the sound of an artist trying something brave and new, tapping into his soul and coming out on the other side with the strongest album of his career to date.

All in all, A Chorus of Storytellers makes for better background music than a main attraction.

The album is certainly more in vogue than Tell It to the Volcano--its blippy keyboards and amorphous arrangements sound very 2010--but that doesn't keep it from sounding less gratifying than the band's debut, which prized a good pop hook above all else.

High Places' third album finds the duo of Rob Barber and Mary Pearson all the more comfortable and assured in a realm of moody electronic pop for the 21st century, at once drawing on familiar roots and putting distinct, enjoyable spins on the results.

Tell 'Em I'm Gone confirms that Yusuf still has the talent and passion that made him a star as Cat Stevens, but the efforts to find a new sound for him don't quite work, and Rubin doesn't quite catch the light but emphatic touch of Yusuf's salad days; maybe a full reunion with Paul Samwell-Smith would be worthwhile for Yusuf's next album.

The musicianship is mature--a jangly, shifting cornucopia of guitar, bass, organs, and drums--but it is practically ignorable behind the caterwauling wail of Johnny Whitney, which takes precedence over all.

Rarely deviating from a mix of elation and stupefaction, Cometa doesn't have the range of emotions examined on Green Twins and Will This Make Me Good, but frayed-nerve howls, phrases of distress -- anything other than loved-up susurration -- would have disturbed the groove.

Future Brown clearly know what to synthesize and how to select. The whole here, however, is less than the sum of its parts.

This Is...Icona Pop is a consistently fun album, and it would be even without their big single.

Camp is like the Drake, Cudi, and Kweli camps all offered their best, but it's really just Glover and his overwhelming bundle of talent, taking indie hip-hop to new levels after spending the day working alongside Chevy Chase.

More winds up having more style and substance than its predecessor.

A release that seems to present a band on the verge of an artistic breakthrough.

Couture, Couture, Couture is an uneven album, but it does tend to wear better than some other albums by '80s-inspired bands.

Thematically, Múm return to contrasting innocence and danger.

Issues put enough of their own spin on things to feel like something new, which feels like a praiseworthy accomplishment in an increasingly homogenous genre.

Sure, there's artifice and humor here, but there's also heart, and this blend of emotions is what makes A Letter Home one of Neil Young's quintessential, endearingly odd records.

Lighter and more colorful than North, News from Nowhere begins sleepily and then flits between spacious and cluttered moments, often within one song.

Whoever they are, $o$ is utterly unique and downright dazzling if you dream of a Grand Guignol hosted by P. Diddy.

The album stays firmly planted in the post-punk/synth pop wheelhouse, which means that it's incredibly consistent, but not necessarily surprising, which could be a good or bad thing for fans, depending on whether they prefer their debut or their sophomore album.

Pillado's songs are super-catchy and his vocals spot-on, and the band sounds perfectly shambolic but also full of energy and verve, sort of like a cross between the Pastels and a jangly '60s garage band like the Dovers.

Dry the River's best asset is the conviction with which they sell each moment, and the aptly named album, for all of its cacophonous posturing, always feels like it's coming directly from the heart, even as it's set to explode.

Throughout, It's All Just Pretend is infectious, warm, and bright, offering positive but not airheaded guitar tunes for a melodic, feel-good fix.

At times, the heaviness of both the production and material weighs a little too heavily, begging for the kind of sunny pop touch the band has proven capable of, but ultimately, Age of Indignation is a significant artistic leap forward for the band.

This is vulgar music, completely unsentimental or nostalgic but with a deep, wild, and tenacious heart; it's spooky, un-caged, and frighteningly descriptive of our time and place.

Overall, Star Stuff is an enjoyable exercise in semi-constructed jamming and vintage-sounding tones by a trio of skilled musicians, and continues Bundick's evolution toward a more analog texture and approach.

An inventive way of uniting her body of work, Warzone furthers her legacy as a promoter of peace and understanding.

Indeed, while the album is quite pretty and powerful at times, the overall mood of glacial gloom can be suffocating.

It's a curious creature with habits of its own, though the results suggest they shouldn't end this grand experiment just yet.

Fans of Zombie's rockabilly occult schtick will appreciate this new volume--not only for its respectful nod to his legacy--but also because it's Zombie giving them what they want: freaky fun that entertains, shocks, and rocks.

Regardless of tempo, these are some of the strongest, most involving songs the band has ever recorded.

As it is, Come Back can only be considered a noble attempt at something Ferree just didn't have the skills to pull off.

Sweetheart of the Sun is a remarkably good record that comes long after anyone may have expected the Bangles to do anything much at all.

On the whole, despite its anxious state, Man of the World's danceable, sparkling textures and idiosyncratic melodies make for a satisfying summery treat.

Starting with a breezy, uptempo song that's part motorik zone, part kicking it on a relaxed afternoon, Harbors finds All Tiny Creatures in engaging mood throughout, letting the music convey most of whatever message Thomas Wincek and his numerous collaborators and bandmates might have.

As it is, Yelle will have to settle for having made a merely awesome album instead of double awesome one, which is still pretty awesome when you get right down to it.

Tuxedo is a fine display of the duo's love for the electric funk disco sound, and their immense skill at re-creating it.

The variety of instrumentation and the rare unorthodox entry provide some balance and relief to what would otherwise be a relentlessly bleak affair.

Neck of the Woods is an even more infectious and nuanced affair.

The group's atypical instrumentation and inventive use thereof results in captivating if mercurial waves of sound and a listening experience that reveals its complex nature as it goes on.

Like its sibling Unlimited Love, Return of the Dream Canteen benefits from the positive energy of these four friends just having fun in the studio, and is designed for listeners to plug in and bliss out without any expectations of mainstream-ready fare.

From Deewee is a welcome and satisfying return from the sibling pair.

While Meloy's lyrics are sharply honed and evocative, it's this cavalcade of sounds that not only makes I'll Be Your Girl compelling, but distinctive among Decemberists albums.

Animal Feelings is still more sweet than sweaty, and may not get indie diehards to shake what their mamas gave them. Nevertheless, it more than delivers on the promise of Rafter's earlier music and fits right in with YACHT, Dan Deacon, Bobby Birdman, and the other acts fusing electronic, pop, R&B, and indie pop elements into playful grooves.

A solid, if a little subtle, debut that promises great things while delivering many very good ones.

Some of the most accessible and personal music of Hammond, Jr.'s career with or without the Strokes.

On the surface, it's bright and accessible, as easy to enjoy as the best of Paul's solo albums, but it lingers in the heart and mind in a way uncommon to the rest of his work, and to many other latter-day albums from his peers as well.

An album that's just as vital as it is accomplished.

By placing so much emphasis on the stylish ever-shifting surfaces of its production, Little Broken Hearts never quite sinks in emotionally. Norah Jones may be pouring her heart out but it's been given an elegantly detailed sculpture that camouflages her pain.

It's an evocative and wildly creative, but not immediately accessible collection.

It, admittedly, may be a bit too much for someone who isn't quite a big devotee of the band, but it's a veritable godsend for those who've been waiting for this for years.

Dynamite singing, a killer band, and wonderful material do a fine album make.

The great majority of Stand Still, Look Pretty is tuneful, tastefully rootsy, and quite engaging country-pop.

While Transmaniacon had more breadth and depth, Western Xterminator is a gleeful testament to the liberating powers of unrepentantly excessive, heavy rock.

These eight songs may not be able to be covered by anybody else, but they are wonderfully constructed, beautifully textured, and exquisitely played.

At this point, Lady Antebellum is a group that seems to know the basics of contemporary country but isn't ready to move beyond them or redefine them for its own ends. Still, this is a good beginning.

This is a stunning set, with lots of lyrical meat to chew on, and music to give one chills.

So it has the form and feel, but the devil is in the details, the songs that never quite hook and sometimes serve up some patently absurd moments, usually in the form of her overheated lyrics.

In that regard, this self-titled effort is often a tribute rather than a new way forward, but Reinhardt's work is nonetheless very enjoyable, a way to regather these various strands from any number of limiting genre associations and reuse them in a new fashion.

Rabid fans won't mind much; just make sure you're sold on Hell's Winter before taking this bumpier ride through Cage's inner turmoil.

this hodgepodge approach should certainly bring Alexisonfire some U.S. rock radio airplay, especially such standout tracks as the leadoff single, 'Young Cardinals,' as well as the album-opening 'Old Crows,' 'The Northern,' and the surprisingly tranquil and sweetly sung album closer, 'Burial.'

This disc does gather the duo's most-known material, including "Destiny," "Distractions," "In the Waiting Line," and "Polaris," all of which were licensed for several compilations and/or used in advertisements.

The real drums are a key here: the band doesn't sound as sequenced and hemmed-in as it did in the past; there's a messy, urgent pulse to the music. All the same, Trouble isn't that far removed from Short Bus.

Tignor's musical apprenticeship in the avant-garde world shows through as well, and between the minimalist motifs, flowing violin lines, and brass interjections, Light Science sometimes suggests the likes of Steve Reich, LaMonte Young, and Pauline Oliveros letting their hair down for a garage-band jam.

Thanks to the hooky and familiar songs, the exciting performances, and the perfectly executed aesthetic, Too Young to Be in Love is simply and truly a great rock & roll record.

All the pieces fit together perfectly for Brown Recluse on Evening Tapestry, and it's a pleasure from beginning to end.

A playful, thoughtful, catchy-as-hell pop record.

This is music that speaks of the heart, the soul, and the mind; her messages are articulate and well-crafted, and this ranks with her best work of the past decade.

A wonderful debut from a truly promising singer.

The Sean "Diddy" Combs connection adds a little too much gloss to the grime, hanging Lace Up somewhere between the underground intensity that it seems born from and the commercial overexposure that MGK seems bound for.

As far as graduations from mixtapes to major-label releases go, this one is still satisfying and a step forward, plus slicked up and pimped out in a way that's entirely Maybach.