Just 22 minutes long, We Be Xuxa doesn't waste time in proving that Mika Miko can expand on their Cali-punk roots without losing what made them vital in the first place.

For fans of Andrew Kenny's past work, Magnolia is a sobering counterpart to American Analog's gentle buzz, a soundtrack for those moments in which dreams give way to the slow ascent of morning.

They have done many good, verging on excellent records, over the past decade, but only this has the songs and the atmosphere to be placed next to their best albums.

Divided by Night is indeed varied and polished, and it includes guest features by the bucketful, but it reveals again that, more than anything, the Crystal Method are merely clever regurgitators of the past, particularly chained to making extroverted dance music that never innovates and rarely excites.

No one should have expected getting Blood from a Stone to be easy, but it's a shame it had to be this much of a chore.

Enigk's undeniably rich and powerful voice has never sounded better, and his enigmatic lyrics remain resplendent with biblical imagery and magnetic poetry-engineered spiritual vagaries, but in removing the complex arrangements that have haunted nearly every one of his post-Sunny Day projects, he's exposed his weakest batch of songs to date.

Fussless and fluid, loose but never lazy, Desire Lines is another fine feather in the caps of Rune Lindbaek and Idjut Boys, who now take their place alongside fellow travelers Studio, Hatchback, and Quiet Village as creators of some of the finest, hippest, and coolest chillout music of the late 2000s.

They will need to move on eventually, but for now Bricolage are just fine doing what they are doing, and their debut delivers on the promise of their early singles and then some. Edwyn (and Vic and James) should be proud.

This is some of Saint Vincent's most complicated music, but its fearless creativity rewards repeated listening, as Clark has few rivals when it comes to seducing ears and challenging minds at the same time.

There are also plenty of moments that aren't groundbreaking, but still show that Merill Nisker has a lot to say about sex, music, and pop culture nearly a decade after Teaches of Peaches was released.

Oberst himself seems swept up in the motion--he's dropped his vocal affectations, his grandiose couplets, he's happy to be leading a group that feels like a band of brothers--one that might not always sing in the same voice, but share a sensibility, something that gives Outer South a big human heart.

Seemingly undaunted, Seth Olinsky, Miles Seaton, and Dana Janssen recruited engineer and co-producer Chris Koltay, and enlisted nine other musicians to create the most far-reaching, margin-breaking set of the band's career to date.

This is the record that finally matches the excitement Harper generates in a live setting and is not to be missed.

Even if Ciara imaginatively develops the "Super C" superhero introduced in the disc's booklet, she and her collaborators will have to work extra hard on the next album to ensure that she does not stall in a creative cul de sac.

Cause I Sez So is clearly David Johansen's album, and it's a great showcase for one of the great rock singers of his generation. But is it the New York Dolls? Well, that's what it says on the front cover, and if the sound is different, the "Whatsit to You?" spirit of this set is as keen as ever, and that counts for a lot with these guys.

It's far from revolutionary and it's certainly not deep, but as often as not, Entertainment at least manages to live up to its title.

As bold and listenable as it is, Primary Colours is occasionally scattered, giving the impression that the band is trying on different sounds for size--although the fact that most of it works so well is actually more surprising than how different it is than their earlier work.

What makes Outside Love most compelling is that grim sort of optimism, delivered through a well-crafted sound that is as sedated as it is passionate, and simple as it is profound.

Roadsinger is an utterly solid catalog entry under either his adopted spiritual name or his former one. Longtime fans will not be disappointed, and the rest of us should take note, too, because this kind of songcraft is seldom come by anymore.

Wavering Radiant works as a single piece of music rather than a series of songs, and it is cohesively played by an ensemble that is more interested in the dark majesty of metal than its potential for expressing anger.

Shifting into metalcore territory is a tricky decision, since a lot of their initial appeal was due to the fact that they were making their own personal stamp on revitalizing punk--a genre that's becoming increasingly saturated with commercialism. Here, they seem less unique.

So if the first disc of Enter the Vaselines is absolutely essential, the bonus disc is for fanatics only.

Chrisette, naturally, sounds outstanding throughout, as a supernaturally talented vocalist whose songs are nonetheless easily relatable to anyone going through a breakup--or, to a significantly lesser extent here, newfound love--but the album could have really used more rhythmic punch than a token throwback strutter.

Cryptomnesia is a tough, rugged, and wildly ambitious set of far-reaching--sometimes overly so--compositions reflecting the rapid growth of one of the new century's most genuinely talented and visionary musicians.

It all adds up to a good but frustrating album of really solid highs and really annoying lows.

If anything, though, what Replica Sun Machine calls to mind is a previous attempt to meld aesthetics from about ten years back, the Beta Band's "Hot Shots II"--it's not a question of exact similarity by any means, but there's a similarly easygoing feel in the arrangements and the beats, something that invites drift and a steady crunch in equal measure.

His debut for Domino, 2009's Insides, is his first record that many people will hear and it's a promising, but flawed, debut.

The band sounds the most engaged on the early hardcore numbers like "Suicidal Maniac" (Suicidal Tendencies), "Thirsty and Miserable" (Black Flag), and "It's the Limit" (Cro-Mags), while nods to the metal gods such as "Ghosts of War" (Slayer) and "Escape" (Metallica) are blistering and volatile enough to warrant inclusion, but feel a little rote.

This is elsewhere music one can feel eternally at home in, no matter your place of origin.

Even if Lee's songs of solidarity are basically sweet in nature, his puppy-dog earnestness winds up being off-putting in the long run on The Rebirth of Venus.

Colonia may share with the Cardigans' late records that polished yet entirely too comfortable sound that reveals few insights, but it deftly presents Persson's uncomfortable vision of a world with little left to hold onto.

Sonically, this is right in line with Dylan's 2000s albums, the sound of a well-lubricated traveling band easing into the same chords they play every night, but this isn't strictly roadhouse rock & roll: Dylan remains fixated on pre-rock & roll American music, emphasizing the blues but eager to croon love-struck ballads.

While the Osbourne-fronted and Dio-fronted versions of Black Sabbath are, again, very different bands, this is an album that matches its moment every bit as perfectly as "Paranoid" did back in 1970.

These are slight, subtle progressions but what impresses is how thoroughly My One and Only Thrill lives up to the promise of her debut, offering another album that is as enchanting in its sound as it is in its substance.

Even without 'Neon Jesus'--the single that garnered Crocodiles quite a bit of web attention just before this release--Summer of Hate stands strong as a tremendous debut: one that pays heavy tribute to its influences while never seeming overly derivative.

Remind Me Where the Light Is ultimately concludes as the luminous successor to "Trading Twilight for Daylight"--bright where that album was nocturnal, open-armed where "Twilight" was introspective, and altogether illustrative of Great Northern's growth as songwriters and performers.

High on Jackson Hill doesn't quite trump "Fables" the way that album outclassed its precursor, but it's hardly accurate to call this a disappointment.

Following on from a much earlier collaborative single, the first full-length effort pulling together Modeselektor and Apparat--despite a name that suggests a Depeche-loving rodent--has plenty to offer without entirely being a full-on slam dunk.

This is an interesting diversion giving insight into the band's coordinates.

You might not trust Thee Oh Sees to give you a ride home after a gig, but if you're looking for a seriously buzzy rave-up, Help certainly delivers the goods.

Maybe it's a clue that Jones has already moved on and that there's not much here to get excited about, past some high-powered singles.

As a whole, it's not one of their best records, considering the size of their discography, but it's not a bad little record. Fans will like it since the band is still shining as a tight unit and hasn't lost a step musically.

The performances are hit-or-miss--and many of them are trumped by Folds' own pair of songs--but the originality remains fairly consistent, yielding an album that should delight a cappella enthusiasts and, at the very least, interest the average Folds fan.

Empire of the Sun's debut offering of electro-pop experiments and dancefloor daydreams is well timed indeed, arriving just as the buzz surrounding MGMT's "Oracular Spectacular" has started to recede.

They're in a slump with their songwriting, and subject-wise, every song here has a companion piece on some earlier album, but that doesn't mean the party is spoiled.

Dark Days is vibrant and alive, an ever-flowing, ever-shifting, carousel of sound--some might miss the emphasis on song, but it's a ride that's hard to resist.

Bun E's very presence suggests that Tinted Windows might have a bit of Cheap Trick's feverish rock & roll, but the group errs on the side of caution, the product of a bunch of longtime veterans getting back to basics and playing their first love. While the former cancels out the latter ever so slightly--there's not much abandon here, only precision--the pleasure of the popcraft outweighs much of the caution in the construction, especially when the insistent hooks are delivered with such puppy-dog earnestness by Taylor Hanson.

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.

A slightly more polished and accessible album than their last, showing the band tightening their reigns slightly and turning in some of their tightest, cleanest work to date.

They may be eternal adolescents, but they're also true believers in what made rock & roll great in the first place. They won't hide--can't hide--that enthusiasm, and it's contagious on Art Brut vs. Satan.

Potato Hole isn't a slab of greasy Stax soul, either. It is what it is, a new Booker T. Jones album, and hopefully it won't take another 20 years to get to the next one.

Asleep in the Bread Isle is an everyday suburban rap album, if there is such a thing.

Mean Everything to Nothing has its moments and shows Hull to be a decent enough songwriter, but there's ultimately too much outright mimicry on display and not enough originality for it to have any longevity.

Too intelligent and well-crafted to dismiss but too disjointed and self-indulgent to really embrace, Love the Future is equally frustrating and promising.

If My Maudlin Career falls a tiny bit short of "Let's Get Out of This Country," and it does, it's only because that album was so wonderful.

Upon the first listen, The Bright Mississippi merely seems like a joyous good time, but subsequent spins focus attention on just how rich and multi-layered this wonderful music is.

Even if this isn't much "Deeper" than the average Three 6 Mafia album, the glitz and guts of Deeper are a big step up, making Ross sound like a Miami-fied version of Young Jeezy.

Even though Cryptacize remain difficult to pin down, the chances they take on Mythomania bring them a little bit closer to reach.

As a cold description, this modbilly beat sounds pretty interesting, especially because the group goes to great pains to rearrange many of its covers, but as an album Modbilly drags, offering endless permutations of the same plodding boogie.

Cage the Elephant didn't exist until 2005, but as this self-titled album demonstrates, their ability to be influenced by alternative rock and classic rock simultaneously is a definite plus.

The stories are told over attractive folk/country/rock arrangements, which to some extent ameliorate the gloom.

Listeners will have to wait and see on that score, whether she grows up and calms down or if age only sharpens her rage, but for all her all-too-human flaws, with a set of songs this strong, it's safe to say her time has already arrived.

While it's a little uneven, Dance Mother is often fascinating, and a big step forward for Telepathe without losing what made them distinctive in the first place.

A little less studio craft would have improved The Law of the Playground quite measurably and possibly put it on the same level as Best Party, since the songcraft and performances are nearly equal.

It is perhaps a seminal new chapter in Callahan's oeuvre of higher yet lo-fi outsider music.

There's nothing small or careful about Fantasies--it's a full-on bid for pop glory and it's a smashing success.

It's pleasant enough, particularly when the breathy vocals fade away to leave behind cascades of guitars, but even at its best, it's nothing more than an approximation of Smashing Pumpkins at their peak, with all the interesting parts stripped away.

Grand Duchy have enough fun on the album that more often than not, it's contagious.

You Can Have What You Want falls a little short of the last record, Can't Go Back, just because it isn't as jaunty or light-hearted, but it is still an impressive work that should go a ways in providing some proof that the band has more depth and power than one might have thought if they just stuck to the surface

On first listen, anyone familiar with the Handsome Family will keep waiting for someone to die or go insane as if wondering when the shoe will drop, but ultimately Honey Moon proves they can ease into more optimistic surroundings and not lose touch with the strange and ethereal qualities that have made them worthwhile.

Spinning through 29 tracks in just under 50 minutes, Scott Herren's sixth proper LP as Prefuse 73 offers more of the same musical madness for fans of his no-attention-span cut-ups--and that's a good thing.

Such tunes may not have suited the bittersweet beauty of Stairs, but they're quite good in their own right, making The Open Door EP something more than a fans-only release.

Plenty of rock singers have tried to honor the sound and traditions of period honky tonk music over the years, but you'd be hard-pressed to find one who sounds as ineffably right singing this stuff as John Doe, and Country Club is a casual, no-frills masterpiece.

Pomegranates may need some more time to ripen fully, but Everybody, Come Outside! will still be a treat to some palettes.

Beauty rarely hides where you expect it. Take, for instance, the debut release by the U.K.'s Trembling Bells.

Jeniferever shows some serious potential on this album, but much of it remains to be realized.

Two Suns is nearly as graceful and poetic as Bat for Lashes' best work; it's just that the album's massive concepts and sounds require a little more time and patience to unravel to get to the songs' hearts.

A wild funhouse of an album, Jewelleryis more challenging and idea packed (not to mention more fun) than a lot of self-proclaimed experimental music.

This is still a bright record, however, one that finds catharsis in the gloomier songs and strength in the tracks that resemble Lost Souls' measured anthems.

Without the instantly gripping singles, Jigsaw is as scattered as its title implies.

Fork in the Road is charmingly clunky, a side effect of its quick creation and Young's hard-headedness. Neil might be writing records as quickly as a blogger these days but musically he's stuck in the past, never letting go of his chunky Les Paul and candied folk harmonies.

As immediate as Life and Times isn't nearly as diamond-hard as "Copper Blue," which is a great part of its appeal: it flows naturally, the music never pushes, it settles, comfortable in its own skin.

Yonder Is the Clock is the band's most nuanced effort to date, an effortless piece of Catskills folk and narrative know-how that shows just how far a band can grow in one year's time.

This problematic arrival shows too in the final product, but the problem may not be the much maligned rapper's ability or inspiration but the constant mishandling of his material. So many prime street cuts have been given away to comps, mixtapes, and soundtracks in the five years since Kiss of Death was released that only the slick, polished numbers remain.

Other than the hypnotic 'Work' and the playfully geeky 'Hazel,' the set is punchless, more a pleasant mood album fit for casual background listening, lacking the unnerved tension that runs through the majority of "Last Exit" and "So This Is Goodbye."

The album isn't a total disaster, though, there are a few songs that manage to overcome the record's flaws and deliver some excitement.

A debut that largely lives up to all the surrounding hype championing the group as one of the hottest new indie up-and-comers.

His singing is of a piece with the music, at once clearer and more conventional than ever before and still touched with the reflective spoken-to-oneself melancholy that defines his work.

It doesn't help that almost nothing about Unstoppable is modest, not the sounds, not the sentiments--only the songs, which can't withstand these muscle-bound arrangements.

Forays into medieval trip-hop ("The Last Laugh") and reggae-influenced indie pop ("Jelly Bean") stretch the boundaries of the album's bedrock, but it's fun to see folk music take such unexpected turns, especially when the destination sounds this enchanting.

Though the record could use a few more high points, there are enough hooky songs and exciting performances to make it very promising.

Where the latter two releases felt like "Hail Marys" tossed into the musical ether, Ocean serves as a return to the kind of sharp-tongued, Beatlesque retro-pop that fueled 2005's "Novelist/Walking Without Effort" and the aforementioned "Letdown."

Guilt may be a bad title for a pop-rap album so slick and shallow, the completely ludicrous I Am Hip Hop's Savior was the original plan, suggesting that this project was misguided since early development.

Though their debut album is considerably more polished and focused-sounding than their EPs, the uniquely winsome quality of It Hugs Back's music remains, with buzzing keyboards and fuzzy guitars.

Maybe by the time the next album rolls along it might be time to stretch a bit and get away from the sound they've cobbled together, but for now I Was a King sounds just about right to anyone who is a fan of the history of noisy guitar pop of the last 20 years.

These Thieves do often come off as just another trendy outfit hawking tawdry 20-year time warps, albeit with more streamlined sonics than many.

Apart from two minor issues, the Answer has the right sound and feel on Everyday Demons and that does make them the perfect opener for latter day AC/DC: they work as pleasant appetizer for the main course.

Between its violently happy songs and its softer ones, It's Blitz! ends up being some of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' most balanced and cohesive music.