The playing is tighter and more polished, but they haven't lost any of their manic energy, and in fact this outing is, if anything, even more energetic than "Head Home."

Miniature interludes tie it all together for that classic album flow, and with no filler or fumbles, Divine Ecstasy is a well-dressed and worthy addition to tasteful lofts, high-end headphones, and excellent album collections.

It's a soothing and inspiring listen, especially for fans who love vintage sounds and period details as much as Gonzalez does.

Chris Collingwood and Adam Schlesinger's specialty as songwriters has always been turning a trope inside out, finding ways to freshen or invert convention, and while they haven't lost that knack, the directness of Sky Full of Holes turns their tunes into something approaching standard-issue.

Sometimes, the duo's soul-searching is too insular for its own good, and the revved-up finale, "Whirling Eye," feels like it's from a different album, but more often than not the Kills turn what could be seen as weakness into artistic strength. Even if they're lacking some of their expected swagger, it adds truth to Ash & Ice's portraits of what remains after the worst happens.

Two Thousand is nothing if not well crafted; that it doesn't have more memorable moments is as frustrating as it is mystifying.

For most of Bazooka!!!, the Star Spangles sound like a rowdy bar band just playing a set of songs they love.

Too often, Airs Above Your Station feels scattered and fades into the background too easily.

There's nothing new or surprising here, but it's a completely satisfying listen thanks to the strong material, sustained mood, and Strait's unhurried, confident performance.

Freight Train, Alan Jackson’s 16th album, has none of the momentum of a locomotive but all of the reassuring sturdiness of a hulking piece of steel: this is music built for distance, not speed.

The end effect is ultimately liberating, letting Nurses explore something more than the late-2000s indie cul-de-sac they'd found themselves in previously.

Taken as a whole, Ternion is a strong step forward for the band, one that takes them to the front of the line of bands looking to re-create the sounds, and more importantly, the feel of classic synth pop.

The sounds he and Smith craft together gel in a way far more urgent and quickly unfolding than most Eluvium material, taking Maze of Woods into a place that seems less quietly observant and more driven to explore, attempt, and understand.

Its base is the four original songs the band self-released on singles during 2013 and 2014, and each one is represented here, with the references to specific disco and post-disco artists and bygone production touches less obvious, a little more concealed than they are on the 2011 album.

Though the album is somewhat uneven, it proves they've got the potential to give their vintage influences an inspired update.

Working with producer Shawn Everett (the War on Drugs, Alabama Shakes), Sheff has crafted his least-Okkervil River-sounding Okkervil River outing to date, employing a colorful palette of sonic hues that flirt with everything from soft rock and soul to left-field '80s synth pop and Beatlesque classic rock.

An aptly titled set that's more engrossing and intimate despite its much longer procession of guest collaborators.

It's a prickly landscape as off-kilter sounds meet off-kilter ideas, all as Beans does the relentless, stern delivery thing, kicking it poetry slam style and giving listeners no easy hook to hold onto as the avant whirlwind spins.

Oh, Fortune is still an indie folk album at heart, with Mangan's acoustic guitar and baritone voice giving every song its most basic foundation, but it's also the most ornate thing he's ever done.

Here's Willy Moon: this is music that is out there, it is not cooked up by consultants and marketers, it's a truly, genuinely strange attempt at something new--it may miss its mark but that's why it's fascinating.

Guest shots from Paloma Faith, Emeli Sandé, Dizzee Rascal, and others make this one crowded album, but figuring out what to drop is nearly impossible as everyone hits the mark.

Ultimately, the Warlocks only do one thing, but they've learned to do it quite well (or rather Hecksher does it quite well and knows where to get the assistance he needs), and 2013's Skull Worship confirms his obsessions have not changed one bit with time.

Whatever else can be said about Too Beautiful to Work, it's clearly a demonstration that the trend toward mini-pocket orchestras and detailed arrangements in whatever indie rock is supposed to be sometimes can turn out mesmerizing results.

On their 2014 record, Feel Something, the History of Apple Pie do a fine job of delivering a second album that has much of the same sterling properties as their debut, while giving their guitar noise with sugar-sweet melodies some tweaks here and there, just enough to serve as a progression instead of an unwanted stylistic leap into mediocrity.

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.

Thanks to some familiar melodies, it can sometimes seem seasonally appropriate, but it always seems purely Tori, who has somehow managed to deliver an easy listening version of all her signatures in one tidy, not so-Christmasy, package.

Though it's not bad by a long shot, (especially on "Get a Grip" and the sweetly drifting "Luck Is There to Be Pushed") Bad Penny is mostly just disappointing.

With songcraft and performances on point here, Something's Changing is Rose's most exquisite album to date and her most moving ("It's just a song, but without it, would I have told you this?").

Rather than breaking the mold, Dr. Dog instead double down on their strengths to make Critical Equation a surprisingly vital outing.

If anything, it feels like alt-country's answer to stoner metal (and a decidedly healthier one at that), providing the listener with a soundtrack that's as tailor-made for hazy summer afternoons as it is for the inky black curtain of night.

It's not only a step forward for the band, but a re-embracing of the epic-length rock songs found at the roots of early heavy metal.

The Angels are masters at sounding simultaneously cool as a block of ice and hot as hellfire, but the cunning pop melodies are the real key to this album's success.

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.

Friendly Fire has the same feel as Into the Sun: namely, it's a pleasant but forgettable arty pop record made by a guy who has some promise but little discipline.

In fact, My Best Human Face may be Krug's most vital-sounding set of solo songs to It's certainly one of his most balanced, as playful as it is earnest, and as hook-driven as it is meandering.

Ultimately, Years & Years are so passionately in touch with their influences, they've transformed them into something new and full of the light.

It isn't a disaster by any means--well-recorded, enthusiastic sounding songs are always a treat--but it's in the end pleasant, not striking.

This is one of the most compelling releases yet by one of the new jazz's finest bands to emerge in the 21st century.

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.

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

This record can still dazzle with its pyramid of overdubs, intricate details that never sound fussy. Most of Def Leppard stays firmly within the band's wheelhouse.

Both a poignant tribute to his friend and former collaborator and a weary meditation on love and death, And It's Still Alright cuts a curious balance between tender introspection and a playful sense of confidence he's carried over from the Night Sweats era.

Funky bass and Fender Rhodes are among the featured instruments on songs that feel jammier than his first two albums, though the mood remains mellow and languid, at least for the most part.

At least lyrically, Flür is trying to glance forward at the future on Times more than he did on his previous albums, which nostalgically referenced his past. Like his other albums, however, the songs themselves aren't always exciting, as well-produced as they are.

A rare mix of intimacy and experimentalism, Too Old to Die Young will resonate with indie rock fans who know what that album title really means.

Overall, Out of All This Blue is a bold experiment that succeeds, and once again demonstrates the depth and breadth of Mike Scott's talent.

Vedder never has been ashamed of his bleeding heart... it's refreshing to have a record where that heart is pushed toward the center, beating fully and proudly on his lightest, sweetest album yet.

She's always been willing to take risks, and despite the initial thought that her music may not stand up to the orchestral treatment, The Abbey Road Sessions is another victory in a career full of them.

Neither a denial nor a rehash of Persson's past, Animal Heart is a welcome reflection of her changing life and art.

Throughout, You Can't Take It with You represents the sound of a band striking a delicate balance between emotional directness and artful experimentation.

With 12 songs that include the band's usual absence of lazy filler, Delusions of Grand Fur is a sturdy and worthwhile outing that's likely to please and impress fans.

When they stretch out, they get intriguing, if mixed, results.

The album works best as moody sonic wallpaper that's very pretty and soothing. Maybe next time out, the trio will work more on getting deeper and delivering more emotion, but for now this well-crafted, easy to swallow debut works well enough.

Hidden City would have made a great EP, but falls far short of the mark as an album. It closes this arbitrary trilogy on a strange and unsatisfying note.

This is the sort of psychedelia that space rockers and Nuggets fans alike can come together over.

Creaturesque's subtler pleasures may require more time to sink in than the impulsive skinny-dip plunge of its predecessor, but fans of classic-styled melodic indie rock will find it every bit as summery and inviting as the backyard swimming pool on the cover, and well worth the wade.

Pluto is fat and redundant at 15 tracks, but it delivers whenever you desire that purple and woozy, Cudi-meets-Khalifa flavor.

All in all, like most Melvins albums, Freak Puke is something you haven't heard before and, also like most Melvins albums, it's probably something you should.

Cemetery Highrise Slum is a worthy effort with a highly crafted vibe, but Creepoid's personality only shines through some of the time.

A Love Extreme is, as its title suggests, an album of sonic extremes, but those willing to sit through both discs will find a number of eccentric, engaging songs, particularly on side two.

With few duds to speak of, The Space Project sees most of its contributors turning in high-quality material, interacting with the sounds of the unknown in inventive and inspired ways.

Introducing Darlene Love doesn't show off many new wrinkles of her talent, but if you want to know if Love still has what it takes to make a great record, this album shows the answer is an unambiguous "Absolutely!"

Telekinesis isn't often cited as one of America's best and smartest pop acts, but Effluxion demonstrates Learner lives up to that billing, and this LP is a real treat for power pop obsessives and anyone who likes some melodies with their rock & roll.

Though France warded off rumors of a band breakup prior to the album's release, it's clear that Foxygen is moving on from the past in dramatic fashion with an album that's part formal complaint and part kiss-off.

GUV IV is yet more proof that no matter the genre or sound -- whether it's the band's beloved jangle pop or something further out on the indie pop spectrum -- they are up to the challenge and will deliver the goods.

Heartfelt and well-built songs like "Cheap Coffee" and "We Are Loved" help anchor the set, but there's an underlying banality that keeps it from greatness. Still, it's an improvement on its predecessor.

Gold Dust is another of Amos' dreams realized--to record live with an orchestra--and it is most certainly for her dedicated fans, who will no doubt find elements in these new versions to enjoy.

Every song on Charleston has been ironed flat, so there are no unseemly natural inflections, something that Rucker doesn't need but which helps make Charleston, SC 1966 a gleaming example of polished, pressed, modern country-pop.

Brooks doesn't try to do anything differently; he just picks up where he left off and the time away has only made it clearer how he's different from all that came before and all that came since.

Versatile certainly has its flaws and will likely appeal mostly to longtime fans, but Morrison invests himself in each tune, singing as if he wrote them. This is head and shoulders above similar efforts by his peers.

Mystikal really couldn't ask for better production, overall -- all the tracks have bouncy, ass-shakin', club-ready beats, and nearly all have quite catchy hooks

Certainly it's not as important or ambitious as his principal projects, but on the other hand there's less of the clever ostentatiousness that can sometimes drive you up the wall.

Scorpio Rising may not have the coherence of its forerunner, but its individual eclectic achievements still add up to an engaging album.

On their Rounder debut, the band continue to challenge their fans with 11 new tunes that show off their growing playing and songwriting skills.

If you're just looking for some furiously raw background music, Trash Talk will do just fine, but if you're hoping that the songs will hit as hard as the band does, No Peace is a real letdown.

The electronic bedroom pop inventiveness of his earlier EPs and debut has been replaced by plaintive bedroom pleas on this misguided second effort.

Call Me Insane shows the honky tonk man can still write 'em and sing 'em as well as you could hope, and he's not slowing down a quarter-century into his career.

By expanding their horizons on Althaea, Trailer Trash Tracys have become an even more singular act.

Lightsleeper never quite coalesces. Instead, it drifts, floating from point to point, thought to thought, offering some memorable sounds along the way but never quite coming into focus.

The band mixes things up with the a cappella word salad of "Sleepin' at the Meeting" and the sentimental balladry of "Paris to Sleep." By and large, however, Hotel Last Resort follows the formula the Violent Femmes have been perfecting since their inception, delivering an above average batch of their wiry, smart, and sometimes tortured songs.

The guys in Empire of the Sun manage to not only catch the lightning again, but their skill at crafting perfect pop, the depth in their songs, and the emotion their voices transmit make this record better than one might have ever expected. Modern pop doesn't get any better than this.

While Higher Truth never seems as self-consciously confessional as Euphoria Mourning, this mellow simplicity is an attribute: a relaxed Cornell creates a comforting mood piece that's enveloping in its warmth.

Even though Poison Trees loses some steam toward its conclusion, its maturity sets Dashboard Confessional back on track.

Those who blew their minds and/or speakers pumping the project's 2009 debut will find it familiar ground, but how Free the Universe arguably tops Guns Don't Kill People... Lazers Do is with the meatier, more subdued cuts.

Ultimately, Strange Land is a bold and successful leap into new and previously unexplored territory for Yellow Ostrich.

The sheer density of the tunes becomes an issue right away.

At times, Conduit feels like a step backward for Funeral for a Friend, but that's because, well, it is. Fortunately, the album is solid enough to prove that every so often a little de-evolution is just what a band needs, and that it's entirely possible to head into the future while looking toward the past.

Throughout, Thug injects his distinctive presence when necessary, pulling the best out of the YSL crew and serving as a tasty sampler of their individual talents.

Supervision is some of Jackson's most consistent work, and hearing her have this much fun growing into her music -- and herself -- is infectious.

Context and a bold lack of featured artists lend a sense of solitary unease that differentiates these exploits from those recounted in his earlier output.

Ultimately, Biffy Clyro's gift as a band is to craft songs that balance immediately catchy hooks with complex arrangements that only help to reinforce the drama of the pop moment. Thankfully, there are plenty of these dichotomous yet rapturous moments on Opposites.

Lou Barlow is still the poet laureate of hiss and heartbreak, and although the hiss is missing on Goodnight Unknown, that's the only defining quality he's lost with the passage of time.

Taken together, The Alien Coast isn't as fun or as moving as the Broken Bones' earliest releases, but their commitment to experimentation and growth is as impressive as their collective technical skill, and in this case, the act of discovery provides its own fascination.

There's a laid-back, late-night vibe maintained throughout Obadiah, as Ford unleashes her moody croon over slow to midtempo tunes colored by piano, organ, and Tanyas member Trish Klein's guitar work and powered by mellow but funky, slow-rolling grooves.

As always, it's a treat to enter Herren's soundworld, but he could've made much more of an impact with the tools on display.

Para Mi renders some of the best elements of his songwriting into more accessible forms. Removing the layers of fuzz leaves Cuco's multi-colored songwriting in clear view, revealing an artist still finding his way. This can make for moments of awkwardness, but it also brings his endearing vulnerabilities to the forefront.

It's hard to find fault with the album's intricate arrangements and top notch production, but the songs, which rarely change key, begin to congeal into one big independent film trailer montage as the record progresses.

Even if Lenses' individual tracks remain as foggy as dry ice on the dancefloor, as a whole the album brings Soft Metals' music into focus, revealing them as a tighter, more versatile group in the process.