The album feels like getting to really know someone: at first, it's polite and a little restrained, but then its real personality, with all of its charming idiosyncrasies, finally reveals itself.

After decades of giving us good and even fine work, he's finally treated the faithful to a masterpiece.

Even as the guys stretch and flex their songwriting muscles, they never fail to remember where they came from, instead using their past work as the foundation to their essential growth.

Even though Be Your Own Pet were more consistent, or maybe just easier to keep up with, on their EPs, there's still plenty of hyperactive fun (or rather, fuuuuuun) to be found here.

You might not find heartache as enchanting as this anywhere else.

What makes the album rather extraordinary is that it's as much celebration as it is protest.

The work would not have been out of place on a more skeletal version of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts.

Unlike his early classics, Laugh Now stumbles occasionally and fails to keep the momentum going through the whole fourth quarter.

Regardless of tempo, these are some of the strongest, most involving songs the band has ever recorded.

Some serene, wide-angle numbers toward the end help a lot, making this safe album easier to recommend to the longtime trance addict.

This combination of quirky sounds and suave production lands the disc in musical territory that feels at once both innovative and familiar; something like Beck, Björk, and Velvet Underground meeting in a lazy Rio cantina only to discover they've all been listening to Stereolab and Nouvelle Vague.

With Garden, Zero 7 have created what could be the ultimate summer evening record: warm pop hooks, lush instrumentation, unobtrusive electronica elements, and '60s-style harmonies that all come together into superb, wonderfully descriptive songs.

It's their simplicity and lack of pretense that's so refreshing to hear and what makes Free to Stay so listenable.

It's the sound of the band maturing, and while it's certainly more laid-back than any of Live's previous records, that low-key approach feels right for the music on Songs from Black Mountain and helps make it one of their most consistent and successful records.

It's not earth-shaking, but it's far better than nearly any other reunion of this kind.

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

Presents more of the same disconcerting, cacophonous, yet strangely melodic and catchy music that always seems to find frontman John Congleton on the verge of going absolutely insane.

Citrus is as good a shoegaze record you will ever hear, regardless of release date.

Vintage Burden is among the most beautiful, subtle, and moving records this band has ever made.

Though Herbert has outdone himself and matches his ambitions with his achievements, the songs are unmistakably his and Siciliano's, sounding like no one else, twisting and swinging and drifting with optimum vibrancy.

It's quite possibly Patton's most accessible album since his Faith No More days.

The Drift isn't an equally severe leap from Tilt [as Tilt was from Climate of Hunter], but it is darker, less arranged, alternately more and less dense, and ultimately more frightening.

We Don't Have to Whisper is too doggedly dour and amorphous to be more than a curiosity.

[The] lack of zest in the production is forgivable because Taking the Long Way is otherwise a strong, confident affair.

Sonic rabble-rousing doesn't get much better than this.

Their performances sound more confident than ever.

An album that's more like the Walkmen's concerts than the meticulously crafted sound of their other albums.

The great majority of Stand Still, Look Pretty is tuneful, tastefully rootsy, and quite engaging country-pop.

Pleasant if undemanding listening.

Milian's weakness remains ballads; the few that are here are more like placeholders that merely apply some forced variety to the album.

It's brief and even a little slight, but it's almost as much fun to listen to as it must have been to make.

Nearly every single thing about this album is a shout-out to the Clash or Gang of Four, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but why not just listen to the originals instead?

Musically, the album is as hard as the group has ever gotten.

Espers II is both wondrous and troubling.

But even if Every Man for Himself was constructed with the mainstream in mind, it likely won't win any new converts, since at their core Hoobastank remains unchanged: their songs aren't particularly dynamic or catchy, the band doggedly follows alt-rock conventions as if adherence to clichés gives the group legitimacy, and Robb's pedestrian voice alternately disappears into the mix or veers flat when he holds a note.

From nearly anyone else, The True False Identity would be a striking and adventurous work, but given Burnett's body of work, there's no arguing he can do better.

Depending on how much Robin Guthrie you want in your life, Continental is either redundant or another reason to love him.

Pink is easily the most cohesive, adventurous, and straight-ahead rocking recording of their 12-year career.

Like all Ron Sexsmith albums, Time Being is reliable and expertly crafted, and contains a handful of cuts that will kick around in your head until the next one swoops in to replace them.

Though it runs out of steam slightly (at least in comparison to the pop art brilliance of the band's best songs) on its second half, Bang Bang Rock & Roll is a terrific debut, and Art Brut is smart, catchy, and fun.

With the help of Danger Mouse's platinum ear and intricate vocal productions, Green is revealed as a top-notch post-millennial soul singer.

[The songs] manage to be unified in a way that Young wanted Greendale to be but didn't quite pull off, yet they also stand on their own and are, overall, more memorable than those on Prairie Wind.

A pitch-perfect blend of Black Heart past and present, and a recording as accomplished as any that navigates similarly dark seas.

The resulting eleven tracks do not disappoint, striking the perfect balance between dissonance and melody with a backbeat that shakes the foundations of everything he's tried before.

There is a depth of emotion and seriousness here that had been missing on Sumday, Lytle's vocals have a gravity they lacked before, and the bandmembers seem to mean every note they play this time.

Whether she's writing original material or covering traditional tunes... the effect is the same. It's intimate, like a secret told readily.

The only complaint with the album is that all the angst and gloom can get pretty heavy at times, but if you are in the right mood, Last Secrets can play like the soundtrack to a broken dream.

Even if it's not as cohesive as their two previous albums, it's some of their best (and certainly most ambitious) work.

The bare-bone production combined with the relentless march of songs gives Stadium Arcadium the undeniable feel of wading through the demos for a promising project instead of a sprawling statement of purpose; there's not enough purpose here for it to be a statement.

Unlike such deservedly praised comeback albums from some of his peers -- such as Dylan's Love and Theft, the Rolling Stones' A Bigger Bang, Paul McCartney's Chaos and Creation in the Backyard -- Simon doesn't achieve his comeback by reconnecting with the sound and spirit of his classic work; he has achieved it by being as restless and ambitious as he was at his popular and creative peak, which makes Surprise all the more remarkable.

Snow Patrol's hungry rock sound only gets bigger and better this time around.

Without Feathers may lack its predecessor's apocalyptic vision, but it's a new direction for a group that was heading down an awfully familiar -- and extremely congested -- road.

The musical portion of her songs... takes a distant second place to her lyrics. Which is fine, because her words are so engaging, but it wouldn't hurt her to experiment a little more with chord progressions or keys.

Ignore the clunky lyrics... and Gulag Orkestar is an infinitely more appealing album.

It should not take the seasoned listener too long to grasp that Serena Maneesh transcend the narrow boundaries of shoegaze.

His previous album's excellence made it seem like Daedelus was working at his peak but amazingly he not only equals that album but surpasses it, creating his most satisfying album since his debut.

Simpatico... is the Charlatans' version of the Stones' Emotional Rescue: it's a groove-centric rock album, heavy on disco and reggae rhythms, where the overall vibe is more important than the individual songs.

In the 21st century, this is what singer/songwriter albums are supposed to sound like. The Boxing Mirror is brilliant, and it is his masterpiece.

How We Operate is strong, focused, and a complete pleasure to engage; its maturity and confidence is beyond anything they've released thus far, and the experimentalism brought into play on their other albums is here.

As a writer she's never been stronger.

The flashes of brilliance that were once routinely delivered by Havoc and Prodigy are few and fleeting here.

Pearl Jam hasn't sounded as alive or engaging as they do here since at least Vitalogy, if not longer.

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.

At times, Wolfmother's unintentionally bizarre amalgams are kind of delightful, and the group does have a basic, brutal sonic force that is pretty appealing, but even at their best, they never banish the specters of the bands that they desperately mimic.

Shut Up I Am Dreaming is pure bedroom art-pop with a thin Britpop glaze that is as poignant and self-effacing as it is self conscious and pretentious.

Thursday simply sound like a superior version of themselves.

A deeply thoughtful and obviously personal album.

Equally thoughtful and energetic, Capture/Release shows that the Rakes have a smart, sharp voice that ultimately sets them apart from the rest of their scene.

Secret Machines now sound uncannily like a fusion of U2 and INXS.

Most listeners won't care to follow this particular rabbit down the hole because of the bracing cynicism, paranoia, misanthropy, and betrayal they'll hear at every turn on this record.

Not only does We Shall Overcome feel different than Bruce's work; it also feels different than Seeger's music.... It's a rambunctious, freewheeling, positively joyous record unlike any other in Springsteen's admittedly rich catalog.

The album's press sheet draws comparisons to Prince's Dirty Mind and Too Short, and while that's not inaccurate, the references could just as easily be Digital Underground, Paris, Above the Law, E-40, late-'70s Parliament/Funkadelic, any previous Coup album, or just about any other funk-steeped rap album that has come from the West Coast.

Unlike its predecessor, there isn't much to dig into here; what you hear upon that first listen is exactly what you get.

The two couldn't be more at odds vocally, but Knopfler's laconic drawl is like an easy chair for Harris' fluid pipes.

Drowaton pulses with ideas and energy, and there doesn't seem to be a musical style beyond the Mints' grasp.

Even if Louder Now brings the mosh-pit fun ready to be embraced by new and old fans alike, an attempt to push themselves further would be more than welcomed.

Typically cryptic and loaded with tasty guitar, Songs and Other Things is an excellent return for Tom Verlaine.

Around is a bit spotty but when it works, it really works well.

Though some Elf Power fans may be satisfied with the few songs that are reminiscent of the band's previous records ("The World Is Waiting," "23rd Dream") and the abstract, occasionally prog-like references to masters and kings, others may be disappointed, or at least confused, by the focus on experimenting with dark, Middle Eastern-inspired drones mixed with Western pop/folk sensibilities.

Zeroes and Ones is probably the album that best showcases all sides of Eleventh Dream Day, and might just be their best album yet.

The Analord series... proved that James was still capable of brilliance -- not just scattered brilliance, but consistently excellent and occasionally stupendous work.

A mature, thoughtful comeback.

They sound more confident than ever, igniting their cabaret-rock with more crazed inventiveness and you-are-there immediacy.

If it isn't as ambitious as the three releases that preceded it, it still confirms that the Drive-By Truckers are still what they were before making this record: the best hard rock band in America today.

The Black Magic Show is a decent move forward for Elefant. A little more sincerity and a little less swagger might have been nice though.

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 songwriting is strong enough and the arrangements appealing enough that We the Vehicles has a quiet pop charm all its own.

The affection that Sweet, Hoffs and company display for this music is the reason to hear this record: they're having such a good time playing their favorite songs, it's hard not to smile along as well.

If you haven't discovered Stereophonics' live show yet, Live from Dakota is a good place to start.

This is one of those records that will leave listeners still scratching their heads and smiling (at the same time) after repeat listens for years to come.

Rye rips it up on this disc, recalling equal parts vintage AC/DC and Led Zeppelin, with a little KISS thrown in to keep things playful.

Smart, inventive, and exciting guitar pop.

Though there are no great surprises on You in Reverse, it is one of Built to Spill's strongest efforts, and anyone who has followed their career knows that this is high praise indeed.

Ultimately, this album ends up being a more naturalistic take on Calexico's sound; just because it's less stylized doesn't mean it's less interesting -- it just takes a little more time for Garden Ruin's power to reveal itself.

Its gloriously, thoroughly trashy fun makes it a guilt-free fling.

There aren't many post-punk influenced bands around that sound as original and as removed from their influences as Pretty Girls Make Graves. There also aren't many that could write an album jammed with so many memorable songs.

While he retains his literate tongue and expressive voice, there is far less humor on Animal Years than on his previous two outings.

A pioneering work for countless styles connected to electronic, ambient, and third-world music.