They're still a quirky band, no doubt, but now they're using those quirks to make their most accomplished album to date.

Fans of the fuzzy, decadent and over-driven version of the Raveonettes can be happy that they have their band back; nastier, prettier and better than ever.

Nobody else sounds like Xiu Xiu, and they've made themselves even more singular on this album.

This is a significant improvement over "The Love Experience" in every respect--somehow displaying an increase in both modesty and ambition, as well as offering a more refined yet bolder set of material.

By the measure of pure sound, It Is Time for a Love Revolution is a glorious feast of retro-rock pleasures--a feast of empty calories, perhaps, but sometimes fast food is more irresistible than a five-course meal.

Protest the Hero is having fun with their creativity here, and Fortress is a better album for it.

A beyond stellar debut in both quality and originality.

The Golden Age may simply be the Eitzel and Vudi show, but that's more than enough to make this a rich and rewarding set of songs whose gentle surfaces belie their troubling strength.

Darnielle can sometimes be too clever, loading in more than a song can bear, but he keeps that tendency in check for the most part on Heretic Pride, and the result is a wonderfully accessible and varied album that hits all the right buttons at all the right times.

Bell X1 don't fit comfortably into any of the pigeonholes of modern indie rock: more down to earth than Radiohead; more fun-loving than Coldplay; and too sophisticated to be lumped in with Franz Ferdinand. Bell X1 occupy a niche all of their own, and long may it continue.

For Emma captures the sound of broken and quiet isolation, wraps it in a beautiful package, and delivers it to your door with a beating, bruised heart.

The songs have more bite than those on "Other People's Lives," as do the performances, which makes Working Man's Café more immediate than its predecessor, yet it benefits from repeated plays as well, as those subsequent spins reveal that these 12 songs are as finally honed as those on "Other People's Lives."

It's clear that Goldfrapp doesn't miss the style the pair perfected on their last two albums, nor should they--this is some of their most varied, balanced, and satisfying work.

The likes of 'Never Letchu Go' (a sweet, glistening ballad), 'Luv' (carrying a brisk, feel-good clap-and-bounce), 'Rollercoaster' (suitably jittery and giddy), and 'Can't B Good' are as innocent, universal, and inviting as anything else in Janet's past.

Beach House's dark moods have more shades, and even a little bit of light, making them all the more compelling.

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

It resonates with emotion, tenderness, and a sense that she has found comfort in life and her songwriting that may have been missing before.

Go Away White sounds like the four were trying one last time to reclaim the idea of Bauhaus as band and ethos from all the many limiting clichés heaped on it, something which the album title, taken from the song "Black Stone Heart," slyly hints at.

It demonstrates that Jackson is as comfortable with the poppier side of country as he is with the harder stuff, and he can deliver it without seeming as if he's pandering, a feat that is almost as impressive as those generic detours he's taken in the past few years.

Saturnalia is mysticism and hedonism, saints and sinners, dark and light, but this is no clear-cut Manichaean collaboration. Both Lanegan and Dulli represent this, both contain all the good and the bad they sing about, sometimes at different moments but very often together, and it's that joined duality, that very disturbingly human quality, telling us things about ourselves we'd rather not acknowledge, that makes the album so absolutely alluring.

Not since "LP5" has being impressed been so obviously secondary to enjoyment.

An album that accepts its imperfections as a part of its charm, and, all things considered, a pretty irresistible release.

Breaking Kayfabe is a cohesive set of songs, backpacker in the best of senses, smart and witty and provocative, experimental and well-produced, but at the same time very raw and very real-sounding.

It may sound at first like the makings of a mediocre goth album, but the band's combination of a taut, tense, elegant delivery and poetic lyrics breathes life into each of Red of Tooth and Claw's songs.

It displays both crypticness and honesty, intellectualism and vulgarity in equal measure, challenging and placating its audience in the same drawn-out, undefined, nasally breath.

The Portrait Is Finished and I Have Failed to Capture Your Beauty blends influences from two generally antithetical musical subgenres--hippie psych-folk and '80s U.K. art pop--into a languid, low-key whole that's perfect for both lazy, cozy lie-ins and middle-of-the-night headphone listening.

Beat Pyramid begins and ends in the middle of the same sentence, literally and figuratively, but it doesn't come across as contrived or insincere, thanks mostly to Barnett, who conveys his words in a manner that is simultaneously solemn and half-winking, as if he knows they could be totally wrong, but he's going to say them like they're all he's got left, anyway.

Asking for Flowers leaves no doubt that Kathleen Edwards has arrived and made an album that's funny, startling, poignant, and (once again) worthy of repeated play.

While it may not be as striking an artistic statement as its predecessors, the general tone of easygoing bonhomie makes Transnormal Skiperoo a decidedly satisfying release, and the simple fact that it's an album's worth of fine new White material is in itself cause for plenty of contentment.

This is sheer attack metal, played by a band that has run from simplicity to excess and incorporated them both into a record that is on a level with anything else they've done, even if not all the elements marry perfectly yet. Just get it.

It's a tighter, less primitive album than its predecessor, but as such, it has a lot more to offer as well.

Bouncing from Mexico City to Prague to Milan to Denver over the course of ten songs, DeVotchKa's fourth full-length shows a band aging gracefully and eccentrically.

Butler's production makes her solid voice and intriguing songwriting into an excellent album; although he stays in the background, the occasional guitar flourishes or sweetened strings make Rockferry a better debut than Joss Stone's or Amy Winehouse's.

The Seldom Seen Kid is Elbow's most self-assured and enjoyable album so far.

As the group replaces departing guitarist (and founding member) Dave Dederer with Andrew McKeag, while they bring Seattle underground mainstay Kurt Bloch in as producer, all elements that help make These Are the Good Times People perhaps their most eclectic album to date.

Those who think the late 2000s are devoid of bands that know how to rock should devote three seconds to this album — they will instantly see the folly of their ways.

Unfairground is one of the great records to come out of Great Britain in 2007 and adds exponentially to the legacy and well-deserved reputation of one of the great songsmiths that rock sometimes doesn't know it produced.

Deschanel's songs are simple and sad tales of heartbreak and missed connections, with hooky melodies and not a single artless moment to be found.

The change does the Godfrey brother's music good, bringing it more in line with the Morcheeba name and the masterful good songs/good vibes combination that made their first two full-lengths so haunting.

And, though the album covers a lot of territory--13 songs in 36 minutes!--it doesn't feel scattered; scattered implies no purpose, but Mountain Battles' songs land, eventually, exactly where they need to.

The scope of Mr. Love & Justice is often modest, but it speaks with grace, wisdom, and heart, and finds Billy Bragg a bit older, a bit wiser, and still committed to fighting the good fight; it's a return to form, a step forward, and a potent reminder of why Bragg's music still matters.

This is a deliriously jumbled, left-field delight.

As comebacks go, that's relatively modest, but the very modesty of Accelerate is what makes it such a successful rebirth as R.E.M. no longer denies what they were or what they are, and, in doing so, they offer a glimpse of what they could be once again.

It's clear that Kath and Glass are already looking for more ways to expand on this familiar-sounding, edgy, innocent, menacing, bold, nuanced, and altogether striking debut.

Music is, by and large, entertainment and escapism, so regardless of whether Young Knives intend to add enlightenment to that formula, their hooks and their ideas--their entire musical package--are too intriguing and exciting to provoke the usual worries about agit-pop.

There are a lot of bands playing indie pop in 2008, but very few do it as well as Headlights do on Some Racing, Some Stopping.

The two guitars pick out cascading notes--never chords--against one another, the bass borrows from both Interpol and Gang of Four, and Philippakis' voice cries out in repetition wonderfully, but it's these occasional horn bursts, the electronic chops and blips, that truly complete the songs, making "Antidotes" not merely a lesson in post-new wave noodling, but evidence of the power and excitement of the genre and music itself.

"Broken Boy Soldiers" lacked tunes like these, tunes with considerable weight, and these songs turn Consolers of the Lonely into a lop-sided, bottom-loaded album that's better and richer than their debut.

With Ghost Games, Apes have expanded their sound and pushed their brand of experimental art pop even further than before, making this one of their most exciting and enjoyable works to date.

Her second act is ceaselessly enjoyable, one of the finer R&B albums to be released in 2008.

Do It! finds Clinic getting curiouser and curiouser, but that's the direction that suits them best.

It's still not exactly accessible, but it's their easiest listen to date, and a damn amazing and amusing one, if you're feeling creative.

Visiter's experimental pop is so joyous and liberated-sounding that it's difficult not to get swept along in its wake.

It also strikes a blow for taking chances and not resting on your accomplishments, but most importantly, Couples is an exciting, challenging listen full of brains, daring, and plenty of icy heart.

As super-stylized as its sounds and emotions are, Saturdays=Youth always seems genuine, even when it feels like its songs are made from the memories of other songs.

Even with a few stumbles, Raise the Dead is among Phantom Planet's most enjoyable albums.

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.

Despite relying on too many tricks from the Daft Punk playbook, they prove there's more up their sleeve than just vocoders.

Despite all the intensity, the Last Shadow Puppets have a light touch--their songs are short and don't overstay their welcome, and the whole affair is just arty and indulgent enough to make it special.

Bittersweet World is the first time that she has made a record that lives up to her happily empty persona, something that's truly fun junk.

The only problem with the record is that there are no stand-out tracks.... That could be a fatal flaw except that the overall quality of the record is so high and the sound is so perfect, you don't feel like there is something so terribly important missing.

The music is clever and catchy enough to give it merit for repeated listens. Buy the DVD first to get the full story and then pick this up for road trip sing-alongs.

Hellbent on pushing the envelope, Newcombe shines as a prolific madman once again and as recycled as the ideas are, My Bloody Underground is a fantastic new direction and a forward thinking album that indicates that however combustible, there is a lot more life left in BJM, in any incarnation.

One of the better albums of 2008 without question.

This is music that looks outward at the pan-continental landscape while staying firmly adherent to and respectful of its deeply American roots; this is the emerging--and hopeful--face of the new millennium, and an altogether shining accomplishment.

An album that's both revelatory and full of questions, an album that understands its place in the Roots' history and American history, and an album that continues to place the group as one of the country's most talented and relevant in any genre, no calculated crossover necessary.

Add the Night Marchers to Speedo's roll of triumphs and feel free to rank See You in Magic as one of his finest moments. It's really that good.

No Age turn noise into gold on Nouns.

The pop textures are more evident, the melodies are more hook-laden, and the overall vibe is more laid-back than past releases, varying in moods from positively gleeful to terribly melancholy.

While The Supreme Balloon's nostalgic synthetic playground is a smaller statement than some of Matmos' other albums, it's still a strong one.

As it makes these digressions seem funny, not fussy, and that's ultimately the charm of Momofuku: it's captures a loose, natural Elvis Costello, somebody that hasn't been captured on record in years. It's still a Costello that plugs Lexus, writes operas and plays jazz festivals, but here he's not trying to prove anything, he's just making music and that's why it's one of his most enjoyable latter-day records.

Just Us Kids is an album very much of its time that also speaks to the larger ideas of life in America in an uncertain age, and it's brave, smart, and pithy music that captures James McMurtry at the top of his game.

One can't help but wish the 15-track set list included more numbers like 'Frankie's Gun,' which features some of Ian's wittiest lyrics and the brothers' spot-on imitation of the Band, but it's hard to find fault in this collection of earthy ballads and barroom jams.

Circular Sounds is altogether smoother than the musician's previous work, but it's far from slick, packed with enough grit (note the slightly off-key horns in 'Everything Begins') and solid songcraft to set itself apart from the retro-rock catalog.

Narrow Stairs is far from desperate, however, and the album's willingness to steer Death Cab into unfamiliar territory (or, to reference an earlier lyric, "into the dark"), is by far its strongest asset.

All these happy concessions, along with the strong emphasis on instrumental interplay, give Mudcrutch the feeling of a true band effort, and even if it's not perfect--it is indeed possible to amble and ramble just a little bit too much--it's thoroughly winning because of its imperfections, as this is music that's all about cruising down the back roads on a sunny nostalgic day.

Here, he's no longer a stylized, self-conscious innovator, he's a working musician enraptured by making music, and he's so invigorated by creation it's hard not to get sucked in as well.

Considering that it's an album of leftovers--one B-side from "Yes, Virginia...," four unreleased recordings, one old demo, a cover, and five new recordings, to be exact--the songs on No, Virginia... are unexpectedly strong.

Most of all it will go down like honey for Mates of State fans who have been following the band's progression from an edgy lo-fi duo to the indie rock hit making machine they have so gracefully become.

The Charlatans are taking risks again without losing their identity.

Home Before Dark offers aesthetic proof that "12 Songs" was no fluke. This is a much stronger, less "civilized" album.

Maybe Mick Collins can't save the world, but he's got plenty of worthwhile things to say on this album, and his global angst beats Bono's for sheer entertainment value any day of the week.

Here I Stand is almost exactly the kind of release you'd expect a 29-year-old Usher to deliver in 2008, and while it is seriously doubtful the album will move more copies than the nearly diamond platinum "Confessions," there is plenty to like about it.

There is no better place to spend 45 minutes than in Lay It Down's dreamy, sensual, gritty, and tender sound world.

Newly focused energy, willfully restrained arrangements, and taut compositions give the set a sheer emotional power that no Spiritualized recording has ever displayed before, making it, quite possibly, their finest outing yet.

Mixing and matching funk, rock, and soul with a little jazz and blues, and enhanced on occasion by some seamlessly incorporated electronics, Boo! delivers robust party material with plenty of straight-faced, sidesplitting/head-scratching humor...precisely what you'd expect from them, then.

From the Valley to the Stars is a fairly magical trip to the center of heartache.

Nine Lives is deeper, heartier, and braver lyrically than anything he's ever done.

At its heart it's just a collection of songs, but it's that rare thing for a songwriter: it works as a piece of writing and a sterling pop album of its own.

It's some of Firewater's angriest, most poignant, and most accomplished music.

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea reveals more poetic, as well as playful, layers with each listen--and above all, underscores what an inviting songwriter Berman is, whether he's taking a darker or lighter approach.

Throughout the album, the band sounds wise beyond its years, so it's not really that surprising that Fleet Foxes is such a satisfying, self-assured debut.

Their songwriting and vocals are actually better than Air, closer to Scissor Sisters again in their ability to write great pop songs and deliver them with flair.

At a time when labelmates (and, in the minds of the UK music press, rivals) the Coral are seemingly at a bit of a musical crossroads, the Zutons have made the album that delivers on their early promise.

Evil Urges ultimately ends the same way it began--with a willingness to explore, to challenge, to poke and prod at My Morning Jacket's past work while creating something entirely new.

Same Old Man shows he's learned a lot since then, and you can hear the lessons shining through in this music.

Off to Business doesn't break much new ground for Pollard, but what is different is that he's clearly put a great deal more thought and care into this disc than anything he's put out since From a Compound Eye, and the result is an album that sounds like an album rather than the latest bunch of tunes Pollard banged together, and that makes all the difference in the world.

The surfaces of this album may seem less bold than the albums that immediately preceded it, but All I Intended to Be is the work of a consummate artist who is still reaching out to new places even when she points to her creative history.