All this flair is a welcome reminder that, for all his vaunted blues purism, Gibbons remains something of a futurist, happily blurring the lines between the present and past along with obliterating the lines between cultures.

There's something admirable about the album's solemnity: the Lumineers are on a quest to be taken seriously, and even if they overplay their hand, the earnestness is ingratiating.

Deceiver of the Gods suggests that Amon Amarth may just now be hitting their stride, as it's an undeniably well-honed set, yet the band manage to flex their muscles well outside of the Draconian stylistic confines of the genre by remaining, like a true Viking horde, prickly, primal, and unstable.

No one's looking to Derulo for advanced stylistic hybrids or deep thoughts. When Everything Is 4 avoids those creative impulses, as it tends to do, it's easily Derulo's most pleasing work.

It's too bad the EP is saddled with a couple duds, because when it clicks and the music, words, and playing all get it right, one is reminded of the energy and fun that made the band worth checking out in the beginning.

The set ends on a gentle note in "Where We Start" -- so much so that it may make some scratch their heads and wonder where the cranky, diffident Gilmour has wandered off to, but others will be drawn into this seductive, romantic new place where musical subtlety, spacious textures, and quietly lyrical optimism hold sway.

Much of No World is so slight, tentative, and ill-defined that it easily slips into pleasant background listening for intimate encounters and soul searching.

The bombastic intro and interludes with Keith David could go too, but otherwise this no-answers, gritty ego trip will satisfy his fans while pushing everyone else away even further.

Tape hiss has rarely sounded so enjoyable.

As a fully realized collaboration, this record sees STRFKR dimming the lights just a little bit and coming into their own more than ever before.

If this is the style Lerche decides to stick with for a while, that will be cause for a round of hearty cheers from fans of smart, sophisticated guitar pop everywhere. If you are a fan of said music and you don't know Sondre Lerche, this is the place to start the discovery process.

Loud would not sound quite so slapdash if it did not follow Good Girl Gone Bad, one of the best pop albums of its decade, and Rated R, one of the most fascinating pop albums of the same time frame.

Sonically, it has everything except hooks, either in the rhythm or the melody; it's all surface style, driven by sound and given shape by hypersexual lyrics Britney sings listlessly.

Beautiful Lie is an invigorating and frequently gorgeous affair, essential for old fans and a good place to start for newcomers.

If you can get past that feeling and embrace the polished, shiny surfaces, and satin-jacketed AOR clichés, then Love Sign delivers a pleasing dose of nostalgic, good-time (almost) rock & roll.

Action Adventure doesn't sound like DJ Shadow's other records, but it's exactly the type of album he would make -- a risky, expectation-bucking set that only fully makes sense to the artist himself.

Check the Preview EP for a better introduction, but if you're a fan, Breakfast is a great way to start the day.

The Buzzcocks haven't lost their touch as a live act in the 21st century, but The Way makes it clear these guys need to recharge their creative batteries before they attempt another studio album.

A little bit of restraint goes a long way for Keep Shelly in Athens, as their second album retains the creative spirit that made their early EPs so intriguing without succumbing to the dramatic, overbearing impulses that bogged down their first album.

It's About Time feels full-blooded and alive, the work of a man who wants to make a little noise while he still can.

At 27 tracks, the whole affair could do with a sizable trimming, as much of the material tends to sound the same, but as far as collections go, Omnibus is the real deal, and a Decemberists' archivist's wet dream.

Splash's bratty Lil Wayne-meets-Michael Henderson falsetto can wear thin across 66 sprawling minutes (the crew would benefit from a second lead voice), but something far more problematic would have to be in play to impair this stomping good time.

The most amazing thing about A People's History is the diverse styles represented throughout.

Much like Jepsen's Emotion or Swift's 1989, Foxes' All I Need is vibrant, intelligently crafted pop pleasure.

In stretches, it's perfectly entertaining, yet most of it goes in one ear and out the other, not leaving much in the memory.

These fleeting glimpses of originality aren't enough to save the album, though, and until Olsen discovers his own voice, you'd be better served by listening to music by the artists he borrows from so heavily.

It may seem like a backtrack after the experimental nature of Volcano; really it's more like they are heartily reclaiming and celebrating the sound that made them one of the more exciting psychedelic bands of their time.

Strictly speaking, these 12 songs don't cohere into a mood or narrative but after two decades of deliberate, purposeful albums, it's rather thrilling to hear Springsteen revel in a mess of contradictions.

His impressive mastery of sounds is now matched by the quality of the songs, and overall one would be hard-pressed to find a better, more satisfying electronic dance music album in 2014, or anytime.

Exotic Birds of Prey sounds like it's broadcasting live from an unknown galaxy, giving us an idea of what music will sound like on other planets in the future while nodding knowingly to some of Earth's most exciting sounds of the past.

It may not be country, but that doesn't matter; When the Sun Goes Down is winning, sturdy mainstream pop.

The uptempo songs are full of life and happiness, the few slow songs have a subdued grace that is trademark Club 8, and when taken together, they add up to the band’s best record to date.

Early Day Miners do a wonderful job of working off of their influences and creating an indie rock that sounds familiar, which may seem tiring to some, but is great for others who feel that someone needs to continue and expand that sound.

Characteristically, Mondanile's outings have a sketchpad feel to them, and there are quite a few half-finished ideas onboard, including a dreamy ten-minute outro of simple fingerpicking to the echoes of faraway fireworks. However, a few standouts bring Arcade Dynamics to life.

All these flights of fancy fly freely since the album lacks an anchor. 2014 Forest Hills Drive comes off as a great, experimental, and advancing mixtape, but it's insider to a fault, as slight as that fault might be.

A disappointment mostly in comparison to the seemingly out-of-nowhere brilliance of La Maison de Mon Reve, Noah's Ark might fail to charm those not already bewitched by that album, but it won't break the spell for devoted fans.

You don't have to like, or even see, Who Loves the Sun to be moved by McCaughan's work here.

The Veronicas are sassy and sexy, not trashy, and they show humor and heartbreak here, which helps elevate their debut to the top ranks of 2000s teen pop.

Fifth isn't much of a title, but the music is something very special, and this is one of the smartest and best-crafted pop albums of recent memory.

This sounds like an album Parton could have made in the mid-'70s, before she made her bid to become a cross-genre superstar, and for fans who want to hear "the Real Dolly," Pure & Simple will hit the spot like a glass of iced tea on August afternoon.

One gets the sense that this is an album recorded with white gloves, and the calculation behind the tunes is nearly tangible.

An album that's part catchy song, part shimmering atmosphere, and part fractured rumination. It will be interesting to see what Webb comes up with for album four; in the meantime, Triage offers Methyl Ethel's most immersive collection to date.

It is her warmest, most ambitious, searing, and gutsy record yet.

Hebden and Reid's music is as full of depth and ideas as before.

Carey unfortunately doesn't feel nostalgic for the succinctness of her early albums, but this shows that she's still capable of delivering 40 minutes of strong, supremely voiced R&B when she's up for it.

Though Drawing Restraint 9 is more expansive and abstract than Medúlla, it's in a similarly challenging and rewarding vein.

et It Reign's appealing mix of nostalgia and vitality proves that Barât can not just survive, but thrive outside of the confines of his other, storied band.

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.

Despite solid songwriting, glimmering production, and a broad palette of emotions, Breathe shows the Leaves' potential more than anything else.

On Eternal Youth, Future Bible Heroes erase any idea of the band being a side-project and work together as a trio striving for the same artistic goals. In doing so, they may have created their masterpiece.

Andy Barlow's productions have been defanged; no longer surprising and innovative, they exist as merely proper frameworks for the songs.

The album's quirky appeal is reflective of Rooney's self-assuredness as musicians.

While most would classify this record under "folktronica," Memphis don't attempt to strip down the clicks and plucks. Instead, they go for the big pop sound of Burt Bacharach and George Martin to make something almost as ambitious as hiring a real horn section.

Easily his most accomplished record since his days in the Lost Boyz.

One has to give credit to an '80s new wave musician who can adapt and create contemporary-sounding music.... The album can comfortably sit alongside Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails on store shelves. Pure doesn't drive like the industrialized adrenaline rush that is, say, Orgy, but the tracks' lingering and creepy pace leaves behind a different kind of impact -- it's more haunting than relentless

The Fallen Leaf Pages is the kind of record that holds no surprises or excitement, the kind that sounds over before it reaches the halfway point.

It's the kind of splashy, impassioned, infectious record that could make Nikka Costa a star -- maybe not on the level of Prince or Madonna, maybe more like Lenny Kravitz, but a star nonetheless.

Bottom line: the album is one of the stronger pop-R&B releases of the last few years.

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.

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.

((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.

Its lengthy incubation process notwithstanding, V.V. Brown's clever debut album, Travelling Like the Light, is as genuine, natural, and deep as mishmash throwback pop can get.

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

This darker, heavier tone makes the majority of Kill less of a party than "Fire" or "I Shall Exterminate Everything Around Me That Restricts Me from Being the Master," but splendidly, Dance Commander rears his head to make demands like "Shake that tambourine/Shake that shaking machine!" in 'Egyptian Cowboy' and encourages mass consumption in the splendid 'Body Shot,' which devolves from a grunge-disco jam into a wonderful, dubbed-out frenzy.

Her raw vocal skills remain impressive, as does her taste in soul, and even if this feels off-kilter, not quite achieving a balance between retro and modernity, it does beat with a messy human heart, one that was subdued on Introducing, so perhaps she did need to break free.

Nothing here is quite an embarrassment, but compared to his other albums of this nature, including the muddled World of Morrissey, there's a distinct lack of humor and hooks, or anything else memorable.

The resulting tunes are lush, but few are truly dense, and White Water's biggest asset is its ability to wield such a large sound without replacing the woodsy, cozy feel of Church's solo performances.

While Two Door Cinema Club don't yet have the flawless style or emotional weight of some of their influences, Tourist History just gets catchier and more stylized as it goes on, offering a promising foundation for the band to embellish with even more personality next time.

The coolest thing about this mess of orgiastic sound is that it's totally possible to envision it being played live; it feels present, inside your skin, under your muscles, and inside your veins. Shadow Temple is physical music that evokes the spirit world; it rocks, but it soars too; creating a soundtrack for some kind of apocalypse.

Electric Endicott confirms that the gifted outsider who allowed us to glance into his psyche on You Think You Really Know Me hasn't stopped pursuing his singular vision of twisted pop music, just as he still hasn't figured out how to deal with the opposite sex, and who knows: if he ever did, he might never be able to make music again.

For those quick to claim that guitar music is dead, Cadenza is a sharp reminder that the genre still has plenty of life left in it yet.

Player Piano offers enough of Hawk's characteristically inventive sonic tinkering -- including, the title notwithstanding, an intriguing emphasis on organ sounds -- to merit repeated listens, even if these productions do sound worrisomely flat at times.

As an EP, Middle States is an interesting paradox, presenting a collection of songs that are simultaneously concise and exploratory, expanding their sound without meandering, and managing to do it all without feeling overly restrained.

This set is a pleasant listen, but the fact remains that the best versions of Holly songs are by Buddy Holly, and no album of covers, no matter how well done or well intentioned, can eclipse them.

While Geronimo! is sometimes a little too playful for its own good, it's still a refreshingly unpretentious and affectionate display of nostalgic retro-pop.

Little Red Boots is for the most part a triumphant means of overcoming trouble by singing about it.

Music for Confluence may lack the usual highs and lows associated with film scores, but it more than compensates for them with its sad, yet lovely strangeness.

A wonderfully imaginative score which deserves some recognition come awards season.

A Brief Crack of Light shows signs that Therapy? are capable of restoring their former glories, but its overall uncompromising attitude suggests they'll continue to remain a cult moshpit-inducing force for now.

It's all pretty smooth, sleek and, for the most part, fairly subdued.

Suckers have turned in a respectable album of big sounds and strong melodies.

Even if A Collection is by the numbers, they are great numbers and rounded out by some intriguing collaborations (with Brian Eno, High Contrast, and such) along with powerful live cuts.

The band's slick blend of classic new wave, tech-savvy dance rock, and mathy indie pop can be jarring upon first listen, but multiple spins reveal an impressively tight unit that understands the thin line between immaculately rendered electro-art pop cacophony and hook-friendly modern rock.

Out of the Black works either on the dancefloor or at the workstation, offering beat nuts from the Front 242 generation to the Deadmau5 kids their deep, dark, and delicious fix.

Those who have been waiting for what seems like an eternity for Timberlake to return to the music scene could do worse than check out Contrast, which although rather front-loaded, is perhaps the most confident and mature teen pop debut of recent years.

Drawn-in listeners are sure to be rewarded with increased payoffs after multiple listens, but even they may long for the simpler days of "Radar Detector."

Tears on Tape proves that H.I.M. moves forward and back but remains mostly in one place.

While Live with the Britten Sinfonia may be too formal to provide the wild, free-ranging ride that one might expect from this adventurous lot, it is dazzling in its own right and in almost all the right ways.

Think of it as a conceptual street release made for Styles and/or Scram fans and Float succeeds splendidly.

Between the Day-Glo commercial sounds, the glassy house and disco tracks, and Melidis' penchant for completely disjointed found sounds, Years Not Living becomes a subtle but distinct collage, and a catalog of grooves in a constant state of pleasant disruption by his collection of otherworldly noises and samples.

Sure it's mature, soulful, and often beautiful, but it's also mostly forgettable.

At times, this album is nearly exquisite, at all others, it is beautiful.

When it works, it feels lived-in, loved, and just occasionally lurid enough to satisfy the fans who hold "Golden Streams" as the litmus test by which all Hidden Cameras songs must be judged, but tracks like the slight, early Depeche Mode-throwback "Carpe Jugular," and the seemingly endless, dub-kissed "Afterparty" feel like they were tossed in to make what would have been a solid EP into a filler-laden long-player.

Though truly hypnotic and rich with fuzzy textures, Maui Tears keeps its spacy tendencies from fading into incoherent jamming with both intriguing songwriting and pinpoint production choices.

Twin Forks seems like a worthy vehicle for Carrabba's songs, but too much of this album panders to worn-out themes and clichés.

Darlings comes across as a more focused and decidedly more solo effort than its predecessor.

There's a bit more maturity and personality to some of these tracks that speaks of a band coming into its own. Still, for fans of their first two releases, Weird Kids provides plenty of the snarky sendoffs and he-said/she-said breakup rockers that drew people to the band in the first place.

Regardless of where you place them categorically, Malachai are deeply entertaining and Beyond Ugly shows that one more dip into the well was indeed a good move for the band.