Saying The Grand Theatre, Vol. 1 is a return to form unnecessarily belittles the last few Old 97's albums that came before it, but calling it their best album since Fight Songs is just about right.

What It Means to Be Left-Handed shows Pierce and company continuing to embrace a variety of artistic impulses that become their own enjoyable interpretations.

Love Remains is a striking debut, one that speaks to how we listen to and remember music we love, and the impact it makes on everything else we hear.

Grass Widow set the mood masterfully and never breaks it. Past Lives may be a short album that seems slight on first listen but as you play it again and again, it sinks in deeply and magically.

Olympia doesn't feel fussy; it's unruffled and casually elegant, its pleasing familiarity reflecting the persistence of an old master honing his craft.

All in all, this is more than a holding action between real Girl in a Coma albums -- they've chosen good songs, and put their own spin on them.

Boasting a mere seven songs, Brooklyn-based singer/songwriter Sharon Van Etten's sophomore effort hardly lives up to the lofty promise of its name, but where Epic fails to deliver in size, it more than makes up for in sound.

She may be not a girl, and not yet a woman, but on Speak Now she captures that transition with a personal grace and skill that few singer/songwriters have.

Anyone with a taste for neo-soul should try Good Things unique flavor. It comes on familiar and comfortable and becomes more rich and rewarding with every return visit.

Whoever they are, $o$ is utterly unique and downright dazzling if you dream of a Grand Guignol hosted by P. Diddy.

Eskmo is clearly a major talent, and if his muse takes him in odd and inscrutable directions, it's almost always worthwhile to follow and listen.

Like Skin Deep before it, Living Proof is distinguished by these bold, clenched blasts of sonic fury, but here the production has just enough grit to make the entire enterprise feel feral, and that's a greater testament to Guy's enduring vitality than any one song could ever be.

Still, quiet and reflective where Animal Collective has become epic and dense, the album is unique, a mellow gem of experimental folk.

Even when songs lose sight and flail indulgently, the drumming is astounding. Zach Hill might just be the most prolific drummer of our time (as if his work on Marnie Stern's third album, released a few weeks earlier, wasn't proof enough). But, on top of this, he is a most unique visionary.

Eno may be trading on his earlier developments in ambience, but Small Craft on a Milk Sea is a good and proper balance of curiosity and expression.

Valentine's lyrics are delivered with a rigorousness that seems like it's meant to assure the listener that the only thing the Electric Six take seriously is having fun. It feels good to know that someone out there is fighting for our right to party.

It's a faithful version that humbly spotlights the versatility of a fascinating talent.

Darker and more immersive than previous outings, Underoath treads familiar ground, though each step holds the promise of a land mine.

Regardless of the tack she takes, Nes' music has the vulnerable freshness of winter thawing into spring--particularly on the lovely album-closer "Ruby Red"--and Opticks puts her in the very sweet spot between innocence and expertise.

It's a wonder why a few of these cuts didn't pop up before this, but as a collection of outtakes, they hold together better than some of the band's proper albums.

Return of the Century is their most impressive record and shows that they were able to turn personal and professional turmoil into a work with great artistic merit.

Tidelands takes the Moondoggies in some glorious and unexpected directions, and you'd have to go back to Wilco's Being There to witness a group upping the ante on the potential of their second album with this much success.

More moody, modern R&B that sounds like nothing else and reveals remarkable depth (there's even a little well-placed twang and some violin), Authenticity is neither an everyday nor an every-day album, unless playing it is necessary for the sake of convalescence.

Some 13 years after he cut an MTV Unplugged album, Adams decided to once again strip down his songs to acoustic, to take them down to their Bare Bones, to coin a phrase that's used for the title of this 2010 collection.

Urban's sixth American release is a lean collection of country-rockers and bedroom ballads.

A fitting final studio effort.

For those interested in one of the more compelling and quietly provocative and graceful guitar records of 2010, Silent Movies is well worth seeking out.

As fatiguing as it is invigorating, as cold-blooded as it is heart-rending, as haphazardly splattered as it is meticulously sculpted, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is an extraordinarily complex 70-minute set of songs.

In a less skilled writer's hands, this sort of thing might be off-putting, but with Toth behind the wheel, Death Seat makes for a weirdly wonderful ride.

Smart guy that he is, Rubin doesn't eliminate surging melodrama from Groban's bag of tricks but he does limit and mute the palette, making sure the strings don't soar so high and that the singer doesn't bellow.

A Christmas Cornucopia is a real contender for best Christmas album of 2010.

Overall, though, Body Talk is more focused than Robyn, and just as bold in the intimacy it creates with listeners.

While The Social Network may not be as iconic as the Dust Brothers' score for Fincher's Fight Club, it's as impressive and listenable in its own way. Reznor fans and film score aficionados will find a lot to like here.

Silver is the work of a band with a very clear vision and the skills to make it work like a dream.

What the Dethroned half of this nearly 70-minute set reveals is that Jesu is still breaking new ground. Contrasted with Heart Ache, this new double EP is an excellent introductory portrait of the project, past and present.

The album is not only perfectly balanced; it stands out as a bright (black) light amid the dross of postmillennial rock.

Encompassing the past, present, and future of sci-fi scores, Tron: Legacy feels like it grew and mutated from its origins the same way the film's world did. Without a doubt, it's a game-changer for Daft Punk.

DIRTY BABY is a singular accomplishment, presented in a fashion that demands more of the listener's attention but buy pays off handsomely.

Most of the tracks are written by Cartwright and they have all the hard-won wisdom and desperate melancholy of his best work.

Things start to slow down toward the end of Progress, when Mark Owen, Howard Donald, Jason Orange, and Barlow get their own track to write--each revert to type, Barlow stultifyingly so on the sticky "Eight Letters"--but for seven tracks, Progress is the hippest and best music Take That has ever made.

It's one of the few effective Euro-flavored club numbers to be fronted by an R&B artist. Altogether, this is one of 2010's finest pop-R&B albums -- Ciara's best yet.

It's easily the least sexually charged album in his discography, ideal for those who admire him as a singer, arranger, and producer but tune out the fantastical come-ons.

No doubt, Diddy injects so much of his unfiltered self into the album that no hater can be swayed, but it's his unique attitude that makes Last Train such a delight.

Adams touches upon rainy-day English rock and atmospheric anthems custom-made for arenas, but his touchstone remains American rock, specifically the Replacements.

Apollo Kids feels just the slightest bit unfinished.

It's proof that, once again, Deerhoof can craft something fresh and different after so many albums. In their world, evil and boredom are practically the same thing, and Deerhoof vs. Evil triumphs against both.

The singles aren't as obvious as 2008's "Knickerbocker," and the cuteness is replaced by suave aloofness; Ventriloquizzing is seamlessly somber, and all the better for it.

It adds up to Allman's best and surely most focused and cohesive solo release, and one where the template can hopefully be repeated in less time than it took this to appear.

Anyone who liked the debut and was filled with apprehension about what would happen next will be pleasantly surprised, and might even end up liking this record more.

The story behind Tennis and Cape Dory are nice; the music is better.

A welcome surprise in all of this comes by way of White Lies' ability to break up the gloom with the occasional soaring moment.

Kiss Each Other Clean is the result of years of growth and change, and though that sounds incredibly boring, it's also a record full of roiling emotion, tender wit, and deeply felt melodic beauty.

You'd be hard-pressed to find better noise pop/rock than this in 2011.

On There Are Rules, the Get Up Kids never sound like they're trying to relearn how to do what they do: they manage the deceptively difficult trick of evolving without turning into something else, and they've made a powerful, engaging album that's worthy of their legacy.

Those who don't like rootsy ballads are in for some slim pickings, since Barton Hollow shines its brightest whenever the tempos slow, the lights dim, and the voices rise up.

It's easy to guess that most of the guys paid tribute to here wouldn't know what to make of the tracks, but if anything here leads the average garage rock-loving Dirtbombs fan back to the sounds of Detroit techno, the album will have done its job.

She's created a visionary American music that extends its traditions as it embraces others, free of borderlines. City of Refuge shines from West to East, from South to North--and beyond.

This is another fascinating and unfashionable album from a band unwilling to cater to anyone's expectations except their own, and thriving because of it.

Mondo Amore may work best as a companion piece to Neptune City--the fast 'n' furious yang to that album's soft, pleasant yin--but it's got more than enough raw emotion to hold its own weight.

Thanks to its beauty, warmth, and top-rate songwriting, Cut Copy remain atop the pile of dance-rock groups in 2011, right next to LCD Soundsystem. Thanks to its beauty, warmth, and top-rate songwriting, Cut Copy remain atop the pile of dance-rock groups in 2011, right next to LCD Soundsystem.

Capturing the intensity and raw emotion of her captivating live shows, Anna Calvi is an ambitious and always intriguing debut which heralds the arrival of a unique and inventive addition to the plethora of U.K. female singer/songwriters.

Teddy Thompson doesn't answer all his questions about women on Bella (of course, for most guys, that would take a box set), but the ones he ponders here are smart and come from the heart, and it makes for an album that will please longtime fans while encouraging newcomers to hear what he has to offer.

Slightly more upfront and extroverted than their early recordings, this album is still instantly recognizable, and fans who go back to their last Warp LP, Succour, might be surprised at how little has changed with Seefeel over 15 years.

Minks leave listeners wanting more on By the Hedge, a debut that sounds timeless and surprising.

It may be nothing all that new, but whether it's a nostalgia trip or a first-time discovery of just how well noise and melody can blend together, Kudos is vital listening for indie rock fans in 2011.

While this decision [to a trimmed down from the five-disc] might disappoint some of the film and film score geeks among Francis' fans, the album still has plenty to offer, not the least of which is Francis' reunion with longtime collaborator Eric Drew Feldman. Feldman's keyboards and Francis' voice and guitar just sound natural--and immediately recognizable--together.

**** brings the Greenhornes back to the spotlight, sounding as good as they ever have, and in many respects, better. They're advised not to wait eight years before making another album, but if that's what it takes, the wait seems to be worth it.

While the album is far from rote, Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will certainly feels familiar; it may not be as immediately impressive as some Mogwai albums, but its back-to-basics approach makes it another fine addition to their body of work.

Ultimately, The Cosmic Birth ... is a further step in Akron/Family's already expansive musical journey; one that will no doubt delight fans and should turn on novices in droves.

As conceptually and contextually bold as Let England Shake is, it features some of Harvey's softest-sounding music.

The rather aimless and derivative '90s drum'n'bass homage "Hocus Pocus" aside, No More Idols is a consistently impressive and intriguing listen that has the potential to be the drum'n'bass genre's defining studio album.

Concise yet ambitious, Guider finds Disappears firing on all cylinders and going far beyond Lux's promise.

Anika is a bold, often fearless debut, and even if it's occasionally an acquired taste, it doesn't hedge its bets.

Their love of shoegaze and loud/quiet '90s guitar rock is unadulterated and it translates into the songs and the sound, making it a pure and easy-to-love album for all those who have ever been fans themselves.

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.

Degeneration Street, the group's fifth studio album, finds the band not only back at capacity, but bursting at the seams with engaging melodies, memorable choruses, and renewed apocalyptic fervor.

If the music on Go-Go Boots is less physical than what the Drive-By Truckers typically deliver, it's emphatic and passionate, with an impressive sense of dynamics and as much soul as these folks have ever summoned in the studio -- they've rocked a lot harder, but they've never cut a more natural and telling groove.

There's a right way and a wrong way to write anthems in the early 21st century, and the Joy Formidable -- with only three bandmembers present -- find themselves on the right side of the dividing line during the majority of this debut.

It is by its nature something quite other, that is at once strange and almost unspeakably beautiful.

A great example of how compelling Sonic Youth's instrumental work is, even when it's as subtle as it is here, Simon Werner a Disparu stands among the band's best soundtrack work.

A few spins of the album will have much the same effect, and after a while you'll find yourself wishing that Goodman would ditch Vivian Girls and do La Sera full-time--especially if she and Hall can keep making records this wonderful.

It's filled with memorable, exceptionally played and produced electronic pop songs that are off-center yet targeted squarely at the heart.

It's the kind of thing that requires a commitment from the listener, but Saigon and the people around him are talented enough to pull it off, even to make it enjoyable, which makes The Greatest Story Never Told one definitely worth hearing.

Based on the theme of technology and the power it holds over modern life, its 14 tracks showcase Skinner's trademark hip-hop witticisms.

It's not that he's become Sinatra, but over the nine songs of the release he brings his ruminative, elegant creative ear to some excellent partners in the Magik Magik Orchestra.

As a debut, Wondervisions makes for a great mission statement from Delicate Steve, showcasing the songwriters' ability to craft engaging and exploratory instrumentals while still being accessible and fun.

Sahel Folk is an enriching and meditative listening experience, and introduces another aspect of the great -- and seemingly inexhaustible -- Malian Songhai musical tradition to the West.

This sprawling mosaic of 22 songs has more room for melody and nuance than any of their previous albums, and they divine many moods and sounds within their fuzz.

His hopped-up hipster everyman with a bruised heart style is perfect for the band's small-club intensity, and the album leaps out of the speakers with an intense power that makes it more than just a commemoration of their 2010 tour; it's a vital addition to their already near-perfect catalog.

There are no embarrassing moments or dated sounds on House; just really great, slick and breezy pop.

En Form for Bla feels of its own space and location rather than simply an addendum.

[Jamie xx] accomplishes a difficult task in successfully (re)presenting Scott-Heron's music -- integrity intact -- in the present tense to a fickle yet discerning groove-centric culture without kitsch or excess.

Asleep on the Floodplain stands as a brilliantly constructed bridge between SOOA's For Octavio Paz and Sun Awakens, yet moves deftly and pronouncedly forward into previously uncharted terrain.

The resulting record is a shiny, dreamy affair that retains all the hooks and feel of the first album but adds some energy and pop immediacy.

If you're a fan who may have been disappointed after the release of 2008's Shudder, this is the album you've been waiting for.

The change might not be as shocking as, say, when Bob Dylan went electric, but it's still something of a shock to hear the pastoral sound of the Cave Singers' past chopped down by plugged-in axes.

The songs are deliberately loose and minimalist -- intricacy tends to get lost in the booming, resonant halls of a factory -- but the substance that remains is strong, potent stuff.

The album is full of the complex love songs and working-class vignettes that McKenna is so good at... [filled] with McKenna's usual grace and subtle poetry.