That ["Only U"] and a couple other exceptions aside, the hour-plus set offers more variations on the narcotic, boast-filled slow jams for which Brathwaite and his fellow OVO Sound artists are known.

Mapping the Rendezvous might not appease those fans still waiting for the return of St. Jude, but eight years after their debut, the Courteeners have grown up and streamlined their sound, resulting in a tight, energetic blast of dance-rock.

As a fully absorbent headphone experience, there is plenty to uncover, but like its title suggests, No Further Ahead Than Today works just as well as a mindful, almost meditative experience.

Not every track works and it's unlikely to replace Vince Guaraldi's A Charlie Brown Christmas in terms of sheer comfort, but it's certainly honest and offers an alternative to the parade of musical schmaltz that arrives like clockwork each season.

The amount of detail and craft that goes into Efterklang's music is deeply appealing and, slow moving as it may be, listening to Altid Sammen in its entirety is time well spent.

Favoring authenticity and catharsis, Champion is simple and straightforward, forgoing fancy concepts and cluttered production in favor of a classic set of emotive, broken-hearted breakup anthems.

Despite the fair amount of low-key experimentation on display, Faith still feels, at its core, wonderfully familiar. This isn't an album where Hurts push to subvert their own sound, but there's clearly plenty of inspiration behind it -- divine or otherwise.

Stinson's rumpled charm and casual touch make Wronger sound tossed off in the best sense: it's light and intimate, the kind of record two old friends make when they just want to relax and enjoy each other's company.

Undeniably great sounding, the record puts Animal Collective's brightest colors forward and, if history is any indication, is no predictor whatsoever of what they may do next.

As the accompaniment to game play, Chaos Theory is a standout in its field; just don't expect it to be as memorable as the typical Amon Tobin effort.

For every tempest like "Lassoo" or "Neptune's Call," there's an unabashedly pretty moment like the almost serene "Wooden Heart" or "Sovereign," either of which would have been completely out of place on Cuts Across the Land — but it's the depth, power, and flair of moves like these that make Neptune the real introduction to the Duke Spirit.

Pitched somewhere between synthed-up '80s mood-out and electronic-infused shoegaze, the Swedish duo I Break Horses may have a slightly off-kilter name, but Hearts is a fine, if often derivative, debut album, a classic instance of a band knowing who and what they love, but not to the point of making it their own.

Burning with a hot track intensity somewhere in between early evening rave-up and late-night club afterglow, Torches is a beacon of melodic dance-pop love.

After three more amorphous recordings, Trust Now reveals a mature, realized Prince Rama sound, at once intoxicating and beguiling.

Attractive Sin finds the collaborators stretching out liberally and sounding genuinely excited and inspired by each other.

Nostalgic Butthole Surfers fans will find plenty to like on Pinkus Abortion Technician, but they're hardly the only ones.

We Are Little Barrie is a stunning debut for sure, and the kind of record both old-school classic rock dads and groove-loving young kids should be clambering over each other to buy.

This is a splendid recording of ten fine songs from an artist poised to become one of the leading singer/songwriters of the day, and if it lacks the sense of surprise that accompanied her first effort, Angela Desveaux & the Mighty Ship is on repeat listenings an even more satisfying work.

it's a formula contemporary country chartmaker: highly compressed dual lead guitars, layered acoustic guitars, good-time honky tonk lyrics, and big rocking drums. It’s a good-natured dig at city folks, and you can’t help but like Shelton, no matter how many cliché’s he spews.

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.

It may not change the minds of those who think there isn't much to Cigarettes After Sex's music, but X's delivers enough glamorous brooding to keep fans happily miserable.

It may be all about style, it may be a little crass and self-centered, but it's also catchy, exciting, and unique.

As far as why it all hangs together so well, credit goes to Wale's talent and his strong personality, which here has grown into an interesting combination of Lil Wayne and Plies, with a little 50 Cent smirk and bit of Drake's phrasing thrown in for good measure.

Adjust to it being low-key, sometimes background music, and SSSS won't be leaving the average synth pop fan's headphones anytime soon.

Anyone who enjoyed having their brains and ears rearranged by Blueberry Boat and Rehearsing My Choir should find Bitter Tea enjoyable, but at this point, it seems like the most challenging thing the Fiery Furnaces could do is trust their pop instincts a little more often.

The more the band embraces Pythons' slickness, the better it sounds; it's a pleasant, ingratiating set of songs that don't aim to be anything more than that.

Kill the Lights winds up feeling happy and generous, an inclusive record that plays to teenage desires as effectively as memories of an adolescence left behind.

If it's not the group's finest work, it has a genuine emotional purity and reaffirms Born Ruffians' place on the Canadian indie rock scene.

While longtime fans may sense the absence of Bobuck in certain spots, it's a Residents album through and through, with all the atmosphere and Residential perspective one could ask for.

Some will be left wondering just what the hell Merritt is up to -- those poor sad kids who hung on every post-rock word of the Magnetic Fields records as if Merritt's abandoned them. And then, of course, there are the rest of you who will be delighted, puzzled, and intrigued by the sheer originality of this recording.

It's easy to appreciate the music on Dystopia; it showcases Mustaine and a crack new version of Megadeth at a creative peak.

In terms of popularity, the album is not likely to rival Attack Decay Sustain Release. It's not as novel, either, but it's exceptionally crafted.

Where the group used to sound like a bulldozer demolishing rubble, now they're more like a snow plow gently shoving away a winter wonderland. It's still good, but isn't stoner rock supposed to sound destructive?

Value is bleak, uncertain, and disconcerting, and even fans of Safe might find it a bit hard to connect with, but Visionist has a talent for reaching deep within and channeling existential crisis, and the album is another success. No one said this would be easy.

Despite the album's daunting length, Harte rewards listeners with some of his most affecting and expressive music yet.

An immersive album that feels designed to be taken as a whole, What Is This Heart? reveals How to Dress Well coming into its own.

AC/DC still can sound invigorating - and make no mistake they do here, as much as they ever do on a latter-day record - but they just need to tighten up, cut back, crank it up and sound a little rude again.

Banhart's persona emerges intact despite the mainstream sound, however, and What Will We Be becomes a pleasantly fresh album to follow the ponderous, sprawling "Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon."

Even as Tycho adds more depth and variety to his sound, his music's main success is giving listeners an attractive backdrop for whatever they might be doing.

The moody stateliness of When You See Yourself showcases their knack for building melodrama. The downside to this gift is that the album can seem like an interconnected piece, not a collection of songs. Individual tunes don't float out of the ether so much as fade into another handsome moment that's distinguished by production flair as much as it is by melody or hooks.

Even though Underneath is a little too polished and Pro Tool-ed, that pop sensibility still rings loud and clear throughout the album, and track for track, it's likely their strongest album, even if it lacks glistening highlights along the lines of "Mmm-Bop."

Underscoring the songwriting skill he's been working at since age eight and over the course of 11 songs, he plays acoustic, folk-rock, alternative, power pop, and straight-ahead rock; his lyrics are consistently heart-sung but they aren't lite (he's got weight and bite too).

Her self-titled debut sounds a wee rushed and sometimes meanders its way into background music territory, but this comfortable effort is pleasingly homegrown, warm, and poignant in parts.

This reverence for Campbell's greatest work is what grounds Meet Glen Campbell, as it shows a deep understanding of what made those recordings work as pop records as well as an understanding of what a terrific interpretive singer Campbell is at his peak.

The 2012 debut is a pretty accurate throwback to the sound of golden age East Coast rap, complete with soul samples and boom-bap beats.

Despite all of these guests and shifting stylistic moods, World Music Radio holds together nicely. The production has an organic, musically experimental vibe that feels like Batiste is really bridging his jazz and pop influences. There's also a sense that he is digging deeper emotionally after a tough few years.

Once again, probably not a highly sought-after sound, but then again, when an album is this well put together, who really cares?

A celebration of the duo's music, Woman Worldwide rewards fans who want to delve into its musical connections as well as those who want to get lost in its momentum.

It doesn't just repeat the past, it mines it for gold while tossing out the dross, a process that works to refine this record until it gleams like a precious gem.

Offenders and highlights aside, Here Comes the Cowboy might have been trimmed down to a solid EP or mini-album, but as a whole it just doesn't live up to the standards DeMarco set on his first three albums.

This album's often a bracing, propulsive listen, the hardest rock Yorn has ever recorded, even if it does suggest Yorn is like tofu, adapting the characteristics of whatever spices he's paired with.

The overall tone of the album, and the fact that they have made two records in a row like it, might be enough to chase away many of the band's original fans for good, but those who stick around will be treated to an album of fine, fizzy adult punk-pop with a mean streak and a broken heart.

When it all comes together, like the play it takes its name after, Tempest is turbulent, dark and wondrous.

Maybe folks were tired of Earle's happy songs, but if you want to hear the man have a good time while kicking up a fuss in the studio, Terraplane is a ride well worth taking.

It is a fetching 40-minute album, with each song supplying its own set of penetrating hooks, ear-ticklingly sharp guitars, moody synthesizer gauze, and mobile rhythms.

Those who really love Frank Black and Black Francis' songs, as opposed to just their sound, will enjoy eavesdropping on him playing around with his work.

While Golden Worry isn't quite as deep as Terrible Two, it's an exciting follow-up, nonetheless.

A compilation of the emo-punk band's favorite tracks, all reworked acoustically.

There's no filler, which isn't so stunning since this is an EP.

It took Seeland five years to issue Tomorrow Today, but it was time well spent--these unique and immediate songs build on the band's past but never feel restricted by it.

Ultimately, Some Things Never Stay the Same is a classic second album: it's not as consistent as Starting from Nowhere, but its highlights suggest Heidecker & Wood will deliver even more convincing and subtly funny songs next time.

Ultimately, with Creation, the Pierces have delivered a lovingly crafted album that showcases their creative growth.

The only thing lacking after the debut were the pop songs. This was evident with each successive proper album, but this flaw is put into too sharp of a relief on Absolute Garbage.

A rewarding listen for the faithful who have the time, patience, and inclination to dig into this, but for those whose dedication isn't so strong, this is sweet, gentle, and ultimately forgettable.

His vocal skills help pave over the (rare) moments when the lyrics seem a bit juvenile or the sound feels a little too familiar, and help make Mind of Mine an impressive debut. It's music he couldn't have made with One Direction and while it may not be breaking any new ground, it's new for him and he's talented enough to make that interesting for anyone who likes well-made pop music.

The fact they fit so well says a lot about this music, and while there are moments of genuine beauty and grace, this is a far cry from what these men achieved in their prime.

Bass Drum of Death have put together a proto-punk album for the digital age where you could swear you heard the tape hissing out of your blown laptop speakers.

Back in the day, Remember Me would have been titled Gas Pedal: The Album, so feed off the good times and clever ideas that power this party record because Sage is a great host, juggling familiar and fun with ease.

Bright, big, and Pharrellian, Paperwork still finds T.I. at the center of its well-funded variety show, allowing him to bounce back to his streety Trouble Man persona after schooling all the Iggy's and Macklemore's in such vital uptown slick.

The band manages a reasonable re-creation of the Ramones-esque sound the band delivered in its salad days. But if Zero comes within driving distance of the classic sound of the Rezillos, it seriously misses the mark in terms of feel.

Platinum Tips + Ice Cream is perfectly imperfect, full of spontaneous, weird, and honest energy that makes it clear why Royal Trux had to continue their reunion beyond these two dates.

Where Womb felt like the closing of a chapter, graves feels like a promising rebirth for Purity Ring.

While there is a warm undercurrent of tenderness that runs through Silverman, it's never cloying or clichéd; rather, Folds can take the simplest notion, insert a gorgeous piano motif, and hit that one line in falsetto that gives you goose bumps... without breaking a sweat.

Though It's What I'm Thinking, Pt. 1 finds Badly Drawn Boy still getting back on his feet, it has enough encouraging moments for fans to stick around until he hits his full stride.

Uncovered feels slightly spare and quiet in comparison [to 1994's Cover Girl]--there are no productions as bright and full as that on "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic"--but it follows the same basic formula as that album, with Colvin finding the quiet, intimate heart lying in each of these songs.

Though they might lack the minimal lyrical subtlety of the bands of that era, musically Steel Panther will scratch the itch of anyone craving a little hair metal excess.

A Wonderful Beast feels more like a partially successful experiment than a fully realized meeting of the minds, but Johnson, Carney, and Branch complement one another better than one might expect, and this shows Johnson is still game to try new things and push the boundaries of his musical comfort zone.

A few of the pieces are a bit more abstract, such as the meditative "Illuminations," the title cut to Devadip Carlos Santana and Turiya Alice Coltrane's 1974 collaboration (which remains strangely overlooked within both legends' catalogs), or the performance art avant-disco of Justine & the Victorian Punks' "Still You," a 1979 Peter Gordon production. Otherwise, the group tend to focus on relaxed yet sophisticated pop with a bit of a funk tinge to it.

This kind of work doesn't make for an album which one is inclined to return to for repeated listening.

Spellbinding.

[Songs on her album] do little to tarnish her well-earned reputation as a D.I.Y. force of nature.

Ricky Music's high-contrast, theatrical style plays out like a mini (24-minute) chamber-synth song cycle about infatuation, sex, and heartbreak -- with just enough balance between candidness and self-awareness to keep us rooting for the lead.

Iron Flag focuses squarely on the Wu's immense, twin strengths: bringing together some of the best rappers in the business, and relying on the best production confederacy in hip-hop (led by RZA) to build raw, hard-hitting productions.

Reed genuinely seems to be stretching towards new lyrical and musical ground here, but while some of his experiments work, several pointedly do not?

You can fault the album for feeling much like a scatter-shot collection rather than a planned full-length, but forgiving the lack of structure of dancehall albums yields spontaneous rewards when you're dealing with a talent like Beenie.

Lovebox takes them much too far down the path of production gloss, right on into the field of bland MOR electronica.

Closing In is numbingly derivative, not just because it wears its influences like a bat in its mouth, but because there's nothing even remotely memorable or engaging about it.

While they'll never be mistaken for a feel-good band, there is a palpable sense of relief that they get to play together again as a band, and what's remarkable is that they still sound like themselves, capturing that weird murk halfway between '80s metal and '90s northwestern sludge, reminding us that we were missing something in their absence.

Shea and Klauber's approaches are distinct; she favors shimmery electro-pop and cooing vocals that evoke Kate Bush as much as they do Olivia Newton-John, while he trades in earnest, earth-toned vocals and acoustic guitars.

"Tough Towns," which salutes cities like Pittsburgh and Cleveland, similarly lapses into ambient space for an extended time period, and closing track "Fame II: The Wreckoning" is nearly still for five minutes before its splashing, hopeful finale. Other than these more reflective moments, the album is generally pretty exhilarating, particularly on vicious avant-rap tracks like "At Your Service."

Do It! finds Clinic getting curiouser and curiouser, but that's the direction that suits them best.

Mark Kozelek is as long and rambling as one would expect from the singer/songwriter, but his mixture of poignancy, humanity, and levity continues to make his music worth hearing.

As it boils down, Like..? presents a new artist finding their voice, showing promise in some moments, and losing traction in others.

It's a continuation of what the band did three decades earlier on ACR: MCR, which showed Weatherall and company the way forward, all the way down to the recruitment of Denise Johnson as lead vocalist.

All the Hives really need is energy and good songs, and they have enough of both on Lex Hives to bring smiles to their fans' faces.

Throughout it all, his rich, lived-in baritone, which can go from a funereal dirge to a supernatural caterwaul in a matter of seconds, delivers the goods like the world's most demented herald, but even at his most fevered, he remains such an engaging figure, that it's nearly impossible to look away from the scene of the crime, even as the blood begins pooling around the listeners' feet.

It's safe to say that Cold Roses is the record many fans have been waiting to hear -- a full-fledged, unapologetic return to the country-rock that made his reputation when he led Whiskeytown.

West is flawless; it is actually destined to become a classic.