The results are alternately ghostly, sexy, and nocturnal, but they’re always moving.

Though it's a little perverse for the band to bury its explosive moments, it proves that there's more to Past Lives than rehashing the Blood Brothers' legacy. They're still finding their footing on Tapestry of Webs, but they're going interesting places.

While the music of Wolf People is undeniably vibrant, vital, and visceral, it does not attempt to put any modern (or post-modern) spin on its building blocks; rather, it embraces all the aforementioned influences and moves out into the world as a living, breathing, very natural extension of them.

By and large, European strikes a nice balance between genuine and theatrical, shambling and shiny.

The slocore tag Picastro received early on in some corners has a vague relevance, but on a song like "Pig & Sucker," the sense of compelling, unsettled strangeness is much greater than most bands could pull off.

While hardcore fans may argue--a bit--over the sum total, even they will ultimately agree that this is the only truly representative portrait of Was (Not Was) in all their incarnations; and besides, it’s a stone killer of a party record.

This self-titled album is a fitting tribute to Toure’s and Diabate’s genius and friendship, and is a beautiful farewell.

While some of Constellations lulls a bit, seven-minute suite "Steerage and the Lamp," a snow flurry of Lowe's rolling piano arpeggios accentuated by subtle strings, captures the classical wonderment of Balmorhea at its finest.

((Un)) is a very impressive first record that shows tons of promise. If Black can keep the right amount of wonky in his pop, he could do something truly wonderful.

Sigh No More is an impressive debut, but one that impresses more for its promise of the future than it does its wildly inconsistent place in the present.

Falling Down a Mountain isn't exactly a major reinvention, either, but it does back up the golden-hued sky gracing its cover with some of their most upbeat and optimistic songs to date (keep in mind those are relative terms), and a liberal extension of the looseness they've been gradually settling into since 1999's Simple Pleasure.

These are huge, Motown-sounding set pieces that frame Hynes as a male Dusty Springfield backed by symphonic strings, jangly guitars, and urgent, driving percussion.

This is another chapter in the sonic evolution that began with the name A Silver Mt. Zion, and contains many more dimensions, layers, and textures. It pushes harder and further with much less, yet comes across as no less raggedly and poetically majestic.

There is enough variation from song to song to keep listeners engaged; plenty of thoughtful, almost heavy ballads to balance the jumpy, uptempo tracks, lots of different instrumentation in the arrangements, and an assortment of moods from quiet melancholy to slightly louder melancholy.

Peace & Love remains something of a mood piece--it’s ruminative, not rousing, never succumbing to navel-gazing but not suited for large crowds--which does mean it doesn’t quite have the undeniable power of How to Walk Away, but when a softly melancholy mood strikes, this provides comforting consolation.

With its driving guitars and massive choruses, The Constant is yet another highly catchy album from Story of the Year that will easily live up to their fans' expectations while making converts out of those unfamiliar with them.

Fixin' the Charts really comes down to the jokes and the concept--how much you appreciate it will depend on how much the idea appeals to you in the first place, and how well you can tolerate Argos' sung/spoken/ranted vocal approach, but it's definitely good for at least a chuckle.

As fringe collections go, it is worthwhile, especially for fans of Mathematics. Just don’t be surprised when the faithful turn against the set: they already have too many “pretty good” comps to choose from.

Genuine Negro Jig is perfectly recorded, balanced between the best sound this century can deliver and the rustic, throwback feel of an old-time string band in action at a picnic, dance or rent party in the '30s. That’s the accomplishment here.

While Pearson would likely be flattered to be told that this disc resembles a hybrid of Michael Mayer's Immer (stern, dramatic; Joy Division) and Triple R's Friends (comparatively brighter and outgoing; New Order), he might also find the description a little limiting. Yet this disc does have each one of its elder siblings’ charms: a gentle buildup and easy finish, extended trance-like passages, spongy rhythms, seemingly incongruent tracks melded with ease and restraint, almost subliminally tense transitions from menace to bliss, and even some whispered vocals.

All in all, this is a rare sophomore album that widens the band's sound without narrowing its appeal.

Though this emotional nakedness is an unusual move after Made in the Dark pushed Hot Chip to a new level of attention and acclaim, it also shows they’re in it for the long haul.

Forty years after his debut, I’m New Here contains the artful immediacy that distinguishes Scott-Heron’s best art. The modern production adds immeasurably to that quality, underscores his continued relevance in reflecting the times, and opens his work to a new generation of listeners while giving older ones a righteous jolt.

Horace Andy and Hope Sandoval front some impressive productions, and Damon Albarn's "Saturday Come Slow" is one of his best post-Blur features (including Gorillaz), but overall Heligoland lacks the majesty and might of classic Massive Attack.

The material sits within the band’s canon well enough to please longtime fans, and listeners looking for some kind of middle ground between Evanescence, late-period Queensrÿche and Fall Out Boy will more than likely find a few wicked gems to hang their heads to.

Lacking rhythmic hypnotism and relatable most to those who are experiencing solitude created by romantic desertion, this is not your mother's Sade album.

The sisterly harmonies and country-tinged arrangements are pleasant enough, but they focus on atmosphere at the expense of melody, a move that leaves the listener emotionally stirred but unable to recall a single melody after the disc’s conclusion.

Causers of This sounds like a dance-pop mixtape plunged underwater -- it's all smeary synthesizers, chopped-up dance beats, and washes of reverb.

If Crows was the first album from a new artist, it would certainly be hailed as the debut of a powerful new voice, and the fact that it comes from someone who has already been making fine music in notably different styles makes the accomplishment all the more impressive.

Eyelid Movies is a nostalgia trip at heart, but it isn’t a lifeless pastiche by any means. The amount of care the duo gives to the arrangements, the subtle and successful blending of influences, and above all, the high quality of the songs and performances, mean that the record is a success on its own terms.

Black Noise can't help but feel ever so slightly like a letdown after the consistently mesmerizing rapture of its predecessor. But make no mistake: Weber is still making some of the most enchanting electronica out there, and if this album brings him the increased exposure for which he seems well-poised, there are few producers more deserving.

Ya-Ka-May is not merely a collaborative amalgam of tracks, but rather a unified whole reflecting NOLA’s musical vitality and reveling in it all simultaneously; it's the sound of a musical community being itself for itself, while screaming--in full party mode--into the world that it's alive and evolving.

Truth in advertising, Another Round varies little from Jaheim’s earlier efforts, but for the returning listener, that’s the selling point.

Though they may lose a few fans with their new sound, You Say Party! We Say Die! do a fine job of growing into a truly interesting band on XXXX.

Everybody’s got to miss sometime, and on Haywire, Turner does by a mile, despite his no doubt good intentions in taking some of the slickness off the contemporary country sound.

The energy is, as ever, uniformly positive, albeit with a spirit that is more commonly playful, as on “Simple Advice” (loaded with so much kinetic percussion that it resembles a go-go band’s warm-up session), “Summer Love” (a lighthearted duet with Perkins over crawling, “Cutie Pie”-like machine funk), and “Room Punk!” (45 seconds of happily throwaway pop-punk).

Mechanize isn't quite in a class with Demanufacture or Obsolete, which are widely regarded as two of Fear Factory's most essential releases. But it's still an album that longtime followers will welcome.

Sadly, this time out, the band have put aside the wonderfully corny synthesizers they used on the last record in favor of a 100-percent organic approach that fits their bearded poets of the mountain image.

It’s more interesting to ponder Wayne's reasons for making Rebirth than to actually listen to it, because the end result is a loud and ignorable bore.

The Soft Pack allows this band an almost completely clean break with their past while showing they’re dynamic no matter what they’re called.

While it’s easy to admire his well-cultivated classicism, Who I Am is an awkward growth spurt, relying on songs designed as grooves but given performances too hemmed-in to be soulful and often undone by Nick’s thin teenage yelps.

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

At this point in his career, his best move is to take these types of risks, and when he does so on the ten-minute closer "The Man Who Laughs," with its underlying orchestral score by Tyler Bates (composer for the Halloween remakes The Devil's Rejects and The Watchmen), the results are compelling and unnerving in a good way.

This is one of the most assaultive, addictive albums around, a rip-roaring journey through sonic violence that will leave most quivering in the corner and others (a special few) totally enraptured.

Their combination of crunching riffs, hard-driving rhythms, and howling vocals isn't exactly unique, but their spin on the sound, which adds some touches of classic, early-'80s pre-glam metal to the usual blend of Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, et. al, has a lot of appeal.

Even if Paper Dolls isn’t as ambitious or immediately satisfying as Structure and Cosmetics, it offers plenty of small pleasures for Brunettes fans, who still walk the line between cheery and melancholy in their own unique way.

Grubbs comes one step closer to turning Almost Everything I Wish I’d Said into the underground equivalent of Parachute’s "Losing Sleep" or the Fray’s "How to Save a Life." He doesn't quite get there, perhaps, but the attempt still has some tuneful moments.

This music is fierce and anthemic without ever sounding pretentious, and Pierced Arrows show that a few decades of experience can actually be good for you in punk rock, a welcome revelation in a genre that thrives on youthful snot.

The sheer sense of sprawl created by the two-disc release, accentuated by the sometimes sudden shifts between songs as one variety of feedback suddenly cuts in to replace another, creates its own involving logic.

From a purely instrumental standpoint, this album is the equal of the Beastie Boys' Paul's Boutique, but without the recognizable hooks--every sound here is ultra-obscure and the more entertaining for it.

Where her previous album was ethereal and ephemeral, IRM is exciting and eclectic.

It would be too optimistic to hope that the band would have ever made a record as vital and thrilling as Hold on Now, it’s just too bad that they’ve sunk to the level of bland irrelevance so quickly.

Though it's not as eclectic and whimsical as their earlier work, Teen Dream is some of their most beautiful music, and reaffirms that they're the among the best purveyors of languidly lovelorn songs since Mazzy Star.

Overall, There Is Love in You has the spartan precision of Phillip Glass but also, surprisingly, the warmth and vitality of classic Cluster as well.

By far his most listenable and fully realized work since 1999’s mammoth 69 Love Songs, Realism feels slight because it is. It’s hard to hear someone so adept with a poison pen preen instead of brood, but it’s also rewarding.

It doesn't offer any answers, but The Sea is a testament to Rae's artistic growth as it provides comfort to those left on the wistful side of eternal love, and insight to those who are not.

While it isn’t as immediate as High Time, fans of that album and hypnotic, improvisatory music will love getting lost in The Flexible Entertainer.

Granted, 25 songs of fast, furious, gravelly hardcore punk may seem like a lot to take--and some of the raw alternate takes are in best form in their fully evolved multi-tracked versions on the excellent Chemistry of Common Life and Hidden World albums--but even so, most of the songs included on Couple Tracks are absolute necessities.

While Campfire Songs isn’t nearly as dense or kinetic as Animal Collective’s later work would be, it shows off their penchant for layered harmony and experimental song structures, which makes for a fine piece of atmospheric headphone listening.

Dream Get Together is the rare 2000s album that sounds better played end to end than it does broken down into pieces. A track might sound good in a random mix, sure, but taken together, the effect is somewhat magical.

On their sophomore effort, they stick very close to the formula of their debut: a slew of mid- and uptempo love songs, a sad ballad, and a couple of rocked-up good-time tunes--all self-written with some help from some of Nashville’s most respected writers.

Those who gravitated toward her debut will feel a similar pull to this album, though, which essentially reprises "Oh, My Darling’s" sound with slightly more confidence.

Calcination is a harrowing, emotionally draining 51 minutes; it can’t be judged on anything but its essences lyrically and musically, making it an abundantly successful endeavor.

To Realize is an album that will certainly reward those willing to give in to the band's grand design.

This is Bowie in his mode as a crowd-pleasing professional, playing with considerable charm and skill, offering no surprises but plenty of pleasure: it's not the first album that will come to mind when thinking of live Bowie, but as it's playing, it's hard to resist.

The RK has been making weirdly wonderful recordings for over 40 years, but this one, as lovely and angular as it is, is one the of the strangest. Yet, it’s also -- if you stick with it -- among their most enjoyable.

As an album, Orchestrion is as ambitious as "Secret Story and The Way Up," but it is no less brilliant. Here Metheny exceeds our expectations, and perhaps even his own.

It's no surprise that Downtown Church is a beautiful album, as Patty Griffin has been making beautiful albums since 1996, but here she's reaching for something deeper than she has on much her previous work, and the search that informed these 14 songs is compelling and joyous to hear, regardless of your religious convictions.

Boca Negra is the most sophisticated and improvisationally complex recording CUD has ever recorded, while easily being its most accessible.

Rather than showing the humble beginnings of an experimental band, this album highlights the fact that, even from the very beginning, they were the enigmatic and impossibly heavy group that they are today.

Ingle's ability to write a pop melody is promising, perhaps, yet it's too hampered by nasal vocals to make much of an impression, and the album’s short running time proves to be one of its biggest assets.

With this album, Major Stars show their talent as songwriters, creating a collection of songs that manages to rope you in with a solid rock foundation before attempting to blow your mind with fuzzed-out fretboard acrobatics, making the title a statement of purpose rather than empty posturing.

No Hope, No Future doesn’t always play to the band’s proven strengths, but it shows that Good Shoes are a thoroughly independent, even contrary band that's unafraid of change, even when it’s difficult.

While it seems they will probably never equal the majesty of their debut, Editors have dug themselves out of their artistic cul de sac at least long enough to plan their next move.

The Colossus finds Rjd2 back to doing what he did when he first began recording: simply curating excellent productions instead of wooing a new audience by creating expressly written songs or telling a story with his full-lengths.

Given Spoon's reputation for consistency, it's not a surprise that Transference is good. However, it manages to be good in surprising ways.

This is a dark, sparse, elegantly--and enjoyably--somewhat mopey, paradoxical album. It’s emotionally raw, but devoid of self-pity. It's charming in its sense of irony and self-awareness.

Just about all of the new tracks would make fine A-sides, though they all fall into place as part of a flowing album.

Even after ten years of navigating the new millennium's punk-emo scene, Motion City Soundtrack sound positively hungry. My Dinosaur Life is a sugar rush without the crash at the end, just the insatiable need to hear it all again.

Streamlined, confident, and cohesive, Behave Yourself finds Cold War Kids getting their groove back.

It’s a hell of a good time and it does what a great covers album should: the band never lets their deep, enduring love get in the way of inspiration or imagination.

It’s hardly a consistent listen, and sometimes the journey seems directionless, but the battle between spastic outbursts and atmospheric slosh keeps the listening experience as thrilling as it is challenging.

What any of this has to do with rodeos (although they come up in the lyrics) is anybody's guess; Dawn Landes is no cowgirl, but rather a quirky indie singer/songwriter with a light touch.

While all of Foster’s work is provocative, this proves the warmest, loveliest, and most beautifully articulated recording in her catalog.

Musically it’s the performances by Bridges that are the most arresting here.

You & Me makes sure his six-string gifts remain in the forefront of the listener's mind. And while the reigning mood of the album is one of warm, Southern California breezes and sun-splashed sojourns to the Pacific Ocean, other influences pop up along the way, particularly a fondness for British folk-rock.

Pizza Box is a long way from the punky bluegrass of the Bad Livers, and may be the best album Barnes has ever made.

Pictures is one of the rare albums that manages to hold tight to what is good about a band (in this case, energy and hooky songs), and add on new things (wider instrumentation, better arrangements) without compromising their strengths.

With Contra, Vampire Weekend make Auto-Tune and real live guitars, Mexican drinks, Jamaican riffs and Upper West Side strings belong together, and this exciting lack of boundaries offers more possibilities than anyone could have expected.

They resisted the temptation to knock out another collection of power pop and instead hibernated for a few years, eventually teaming up with Dave Fridmann--a former member of Mercury Rev best known for his production work with the Flaming Lips--with the intention of reinvention, resulting in the mildly bewildering Of the Blue Colour of the Sky.

There is charm to Starr’s tried and true: exciting it is not but it’s as comforting as an old friend who doesn’t change, he just stays the same.

It’s a wide, spacious, summer storm of a record that bounces around genres like an open-world RPG game, and while there may be only 12 locations you can fast-travel to, there is enough treasure in each to keep the adventurer occupied for a month of afternoons.

There are no wasted notes anywhere on July Flame, neither in Martine's production nor Veirs' tightly written (but still expressionistically poetic) compositions.

Rain on the City lacks the consistency of Johnston's masterpiece, "Can You Fly," or its follow-up, "This Perfect World," but unlike the albums that followed, this collection is a beautiful example of Johnston playing to his strengths and reminding us why he's one of the best and most singular American songwriters at work today.

The band are an almost classic example of one element working incredibly well and another almost tripping it up as it goes. What works is the group's collective ear for those previously mentioned sounds and styles, which the trio plays excellently throughout.

This leathery roots record contains music that bridges the gap between frail flesh and powerful spirit ruggedly, sensually, and honestly, making it a work of high art.

Everyone makes sample-based music these days, but very few people use found sounds and prefab musical snippets as creatively and thoughtfully as Blockhead does.