Post Earth is a step up all around for Feels, and refreshingly demonstrates they don't need a garage-pop prodigy on board to make an album worth hearing.

It frequently upends expectations while confirming Clark's broad talent and imagination, and if this doesn't convince you he's a major artist, nothing will.

Throughout the solid set of songs, Fitchuck and Tashian prove a tasteful fit for the duo, reinforcing and embellishing the sisters' languid technique but also staying out of their way.

The main difference between the two albums is that the first volume retains a sense of discovery, whereas the second is made with the confidence that this particular formula works. In either case, the two albums -- whether heard individually or as a pair, as they so often are -- aren't so much complements but of a piece, music that changed the course of popular music and remains a testament to the genius of Ray Charles.

She's channeling her own experiences so they speak to the universal, just like the classic soul she loves. The result is an extraordinary record, one designed to be part of a grand musical tradition, and it contains enough emotion and imagination to earn its place within that lineage.

Though it's more than a little contrary that their first album on their own label is more melodic and emotionally immediate than their work for Rough Trade, it's one of many moves on Eton Alive that are pure Sleaford Mods.

Lines, Vols. 1–3 continues to look to the past for inspiration, yet it does so with a contemporary flair, deftly utilizing the airy, chamber pop stylings of musical arranger and producer Adrian McNally.

Combative, defiant, and teeming with Victoria's distinctive mix of streetwise poeticism and literary depth, Silences is a strong and inventive follow-up.

There are a few moments on the album where the drums sound a little cluttered or it isn't quite clear what direction a song is going in, although perhaps that's to be expected for music meant to be this dreamlike--it's not always supposed to make perfectly logical sense. Regardless, the album is a delightful trip from an unmistakably original artist.

Dream Theater reaffirm their identity on Distance Over Time, displaying a collective hunger, abundant energy, creativity, and musical (re)discovery. This set should erase the schism between fans and win the band a whole slew of new ones.

While both performers are too iconic for Better Oblivion Community Center to truly feel separate from their respective bodies of work, there's still a strange magic that comes from the combination.

Crushing is riveting right from the spare, noir-tinged opening track, "Body," which remembers the moment Jacklin decided to leave the relationship after her partner got them thrown off a flight.

Nowhere is Batoh's most provocative yet accessible solo album; its otherworldly strangeness is uncompromising, but somehow welcoming because of its deep focus. Its many textured ripples, fissures and psychic pathways resonate long after its playing timer expires.

The casual, lived-in feel of American Love Song makes such political protests as "America" feel a little too blunt, but instead of being a flaw, its directness is a benefit, since it shines a light on how subtle and nimble the rest of this terrific record is.

The album never seems to stray from its design, however, and is loaded with catchy, memorable songs, an even more impressive feat considering its origins.

If the duo's satire sometimes seems cheap--the Tinder jibes on "Easily Charmed by Fools" are a little too easy--they make up for it through sheer good humor, which is why the playfulness of South of Reality charms instead of alienates.

An uplifting, planet-sized embrace, ALL is another triumph for Tiersen.

Both as a listening and reading experience, the entire collection is fascinating and eye-opening, and far more than just pleasant, unassuming musical wallpaper. It's also somewhat overwhelming in a sense, simply because there's far more music from this era to discover, and this release barely scratches the surface.

These are doomy, bass-heavy arrangements, rife with layers of orchestrated sounds that build and swell with a sustained dramatic tension. Think Matthew Dear meets The Downward Spiral-era NIN and you'll get a good sense of the grayscale atmosphere Biliński has achieved here.

Even on these quieter moments, Brickbat's invigorated feel is palpable--and contagious. It would've been easy for the members of Piroshka to rest on their laurels, but they prove they have a lot of new ideas to offer their listeners, regardless of how familiar they may be with the band's previous work.

While the album's highlights work on their own, Helium is best approached as a full listening experience, as it feels like a venture into a slightly different world than our own.

A recording that will surprise and delight TTB fans as their most adventurous to date.

Best of the lot is "Isn't That Enough," built on a loping riddim in the mold of Sly & Robbie's work on Grace Jones' cover of "Nightclubbing," though Khan is uninhibited and impassioned, as always. Even when a surplus of synthesizers, organs, and flame-throwing guitars threaten to overtake her elsewhere, she cuts straight through with full-tilt, life-affirming power.

Can't Say I Ain't Country is a successful blend of the cosmopolitan and country, sounding as assured on soulful slow jams and percolating crossover pop as it does on the breakneck twang of "Y'all Boys," a duet with their protégé HARDY.

A joyous re-creation of what they've always done best, while the performances are crisp and energized, as taut and passionate as ever. And Ed Stasium's production is smooth but natural, flattering these musicians without intruding on the natural punch of their music.

Some regular guys craft occasional masterpieces, but Hayes Carll more often is the guy who delivers a good, solid, and enjoyable piece of work and then moves on, and that's what he's given his fans on What It Is. Like the cheeseburger that regular guy ordered at the bar, it may not be fancy, but it sure leaves you satisfied.

Ellis may have suggested this level of melodic songcraft on his previous albums, but he never hinted at this wit, and his dexterous combination of craft and humor makes Texas Piano Man a rich, resonant good time.

A welcome return, Ladytron is a remarkably consistent and engaging album that befits the band's status as synth pop veterans.

"Tell Me It's Over" sways with echoes of a '50s slow dance, "Crush" is so light it floats into the stratosphere, and "Bigger Wow" swells with strings reminiscent of vintage Vanessa Carlton. Such moments provide a needed contrast to the motivational ones while also connecting to Lavigne's bubblegum roots, a move that makes the overall maturation of the album feel earned.

Frightening and utterly exhilarating. The rest of the album isn't as overtly violent, but it's no less captivating, and it confirms the Assassins' mastery of building apocalyptic sound worlds.

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.

Guided by Voices have been enjoying an unexpected but very welcome late-career renaissance, and anyone who has ever had a taste for their singular take on rocking pop owes it to themselves to check out Zeppelin Over China.

It might not quite measure up to the very tall order of being another Dare or Different Class, but the record comes close and that is something the band should be very proud of.

It's an act they've being pulling off for a long time and it still doesn't sound at all tired. It helps that Murphy wrote a fine bunch of songs, from the rambunctious ("tonite") to the poignant ("oh baby") to tracks that rage like Gang of Four at their best ("emotional haircut").

A serene, thought-provoking album that grows richer with each listen.

At its best, Pop Monster injects plenty of fresh ideas into the Broods' repertoire, offering a handful of confident and polished gems that could have made for a stunning album if they had just sharpened their focus. Otherwise, lackluster inclusions that echo Lorde's sophomore shift dull the effort, which distracts from the excitement that occasionally shines through.

A broadening of consciousness blends nicely with Yak's gut-level execution, resulting in an uncannily absorbing slice of neo-psychedelia.

Sometimes, Vol. 4 :: Slaves of Fear feels almost too successful at what it sets out to do, but as bleak as it gets, there's something special about its empathy and honesty.

While Unloved's pastiche of ultra-hip influences could easily be too mannered, the emotional honesty of songs like the haunting finale "If" makes Heartbreak a near-perfect union of style and substance from a group growing by leaps and bounds.

Affecting, cathartic and unsettling, Girl with Basket of Fruit reflects that while the edge to Xiu Xiu's music has changed with time, it never dulls.

As far as anthologies go, Twenty sticks to a pretty standard format, offering a chronological track list that features the expected highlights from each of their seven studio albums, along with a pair of new songs tacked on at the end for good measure and added freshness.

While the album is his most musically rambling yet, with the exception of "American Canyon Sutra," there's no denying its elegant musicianship.

With its lavish arrangement and Williams' gritty performance, the band find new ways of celebrating one of the great underappreciated artists of the '60s and '70s--something that's true of Bobbie Gentry's the Delta Sweete Revisited as a whole.

Staples sounds more energized and in control here than on the 2008 set.

Sunshine Rock is the fourth installment in one of the most satisfying chapters of Bob Mould's career--no small statement considering his legacy--and the tender ferocity of these songs is something no one else could do quite this well.

Like their debut, Ideal Woman is challenging and sometimes difficult, but fearsome in the way that quality rock music often is.

Dando remains a sensitive, nuanced interpreter and, as produced by Matthew Cullen, the Lemonheads sound amiable and charming: the best college bar band you could imagine stumbling upon on a Saturday afternoon.

Though earlier albums saw her crafting a strange otherworld, the perpetual sunset hinted at before is painted here in new dimensions, making this set of songs her best and easiest to revisit.

The relatively empty arrangements take a few listens to latch on, but their openness showcases Lennox's gifts for honest, fearless songwriting. Try as he may to embrace external influences, Panda Bear remains inescapably himself.

Here Chapman obviously revels in his continued ability to mine the emotional, psychological, and spiritual terrain he did in his younger years as a songwriter, while adding experiential depth to his approach through a lifetime of profound musical development. In an enormous catalog, True North stands straight-up alongside his finest recordings.

A singer who not only knows what she wants but knows that she's wanted, and that attitude unites and propels thank u, next through its ballads and R&B jams, turning it into an album that embodies every aspect of Ariana Grande, the grand pop star.

Packed with breezy, witty, should-be hits, Bonito Generation is a winning mix of subversive art and genuine heart.

More than just a worthy successor to Upstepping, Shelley's on Zenn-La reconfigures both modern classical and electronic dance music, producing a wholly original work which knows no boundaries.

Even if it's not quite as cohesive as Clear Shot, Happy in the Hollow doesn't change the feeling that the members of TOY have one foot in another dimension that they're waiting to transport their listeners to.

While Deer Tick enthusiasts will smile at alternate versions, fun covers, and the spare track or two of credibly considered new originals, the casual listener should begin anywhere else in the band's storied (and often great) catalog.

King's voice remains assured and soft, like she's confidently revealing secrets in the most expressive way possible, without disturbing her neighbors. This time, there's a little more grit and swagger, and frequently there's a sense of resolve that comes through even when not indicated lyrically.

One is never quite sure what direction Lawrie is going to head; all that's a given is that it's always a direction worth following, and Exploding Head Syndrome holds true to that theory.

Plenty of roots-oriented acts can do the high and lonesome thing, but Mandolin Orange make it cut like bourbon and soothe like honey on Tides of a Teardrop, and it's outstanding work from a group that grow more satisfying and accomplished with each release.

Well worth the wait, Drift Code is the sound of an artist coming into his own on his own time.

At 13 tracks, and the more forgettable ones clustered in the second half, the album could have benefitted from some trimming, but it ends elegantly, with a reassuring title track that seems to promise further growth.

While the best material here represents stylistic evolution or at least enhancement of the best parts of Cherry Glazerr's recent sound, Stuffed & Ready as a whole spoils quickly, fizzling from righteous anthems of anger and self-questioning into monotonous and self-absorbed alt-rock rewrites.

With a handful of impressive releases already under their belt, Tiny Ruins have outdone themselves here, with a full set of compellingly crafted songs that are enriched rather than overwhelmed by the fuller sound.

On this very nice debut, Spielbergs are a tough band to pigeonhole, boasting quality writing and a hooky approach that transcends whatever sonic space they occupy at a given moment.

Everything on Encore is amiable but not especially defined: they play with the ease of a group who has made their living on the road, but they lack urgency, even when they're singing about hot-button issues. Despite this lack of fire, Encore is a definite step up from the covers albums the Specials made surrounding Y2K: they feel like a band with a purpose, even if they're not making an especially big deal about it.

With Condon's warm quaver and bevy of brass instruments, acoustic and electric guitars, electronic and acoustic drums, accordion, and mix of pianos, organs, and synthesizers including modular synths gathered under a production ethos that dials up already colorful arrangements to Technicolor spectacle.

The album points to the potential of future solo albums from both Girlpool members. Even though some of the huge shake-ups of instrumentation and songwriting styles work well, Tucker and Tividad rarely sound like they're connecting and it makes What Chaos Is Imaginary harder to connect with.

At nine songs, Look Alive never wears out its welcome, and its commitment to sonic versatility, no matter how nostalgia-driven, helps temper some of its more forgettable moments. In evoking the '80s synth pop of their youth, Guster have unearthed a small gem that gives off a familiar, yet undeniably dazzling shine.

At once slight and overdone, Why You So Crazy is one of the least rewarding trips the Dandy Warhols have taken their fans on during their career.

The label-defiant marvel again switches up her supporting co-producers and cooks up another half-hour of authoritative progressive pop.

Easily his most accessible material, there's still a lot of uncomfortable emotional and sonic wreckage to sift through. Peeling back the layers of grime and giving listeners a chance to sift through it for themselves makes I Have to Feed Larry's Hawk feel like a debut from this already storied songwriter.

Where I Wasn't Born to Lose You was electric with the excitement of Swervedriver's rebirth, Future Ruins is the sound of a band that's happy to be back and ready to get down to the business of pushing their sound forward.

Amo is a genre-bending thrill ride that marks a brave new era for the band. Placing a significant amount of trust in their fan base, Bring Me the Horizon deliver an utterly refreshing and forward-thinking statement that finds them in complete control of their vision.

Taken on a strictly musical terms, The Teal Album is pretty anodyne stuff. Weezer replicates the arrangements of beloved songs, adds a bit more fuzz on the guitar solos, and flattens the vocal affectations, which amounts to one weird trick: Weezer doesn't attempt to make the songs their own, yet these versions unmistakably sound like Weezer.

With DNA, a revitalized Backstreet Boys exude an assured confidence, taking enough steps forward to continue their pop maturation without ignoring the hooks and harmonies that carried them all this way.

Far from reclusive, Weird is a gregarious, idiosyncratic pop album that invites the listener to meet it on its own terms, but Hatfield is absolutely fine if it's rejected. She's cool being on her own.

There's not much in the way of lyrics following the opening track, but she highlights her ethereal voice as an instrument on the harmonic study "Late Night Healing Choir." Taken together, Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars almost functions as a tone poem and is nearly as beautiful and elegant as its thematic inspirations.

Swindle aims high on No More Normal, which is clearly intended for a widespread audience rather than the U.K. underground massive, and its best moments are grand and inspirational.

Some artists stumble when they move on from a strongly minimal aesthetic, but Sneaks sounds justifiably confident on Highway Hypnosis, and this suggests any number of new directions where her talent could travel.

Maybe Krol isn't cool, but Power Chords shows he's fierce, fun, exciting, and real, and that always means more in the long run.

"Look Away," with its inventive and Eastern-tinged, Led Zeppelin III-inspired acoustic guitar work, the soulful and contemplative title cut, and the breezy, psych-folk-rocker "All Directions," are administered with equal amounts of nuance and backbone, showcasing the band's versatility in both songcraft and execution, a feat made all the more impressive by their predilection for recording live in the studio. That craftsmanship, no doubt bolstered by the group's adherence to a rigorous tour schedule, is the glue that keeps Feral Roots from bursting apart at the seams.

Bringing emotional weight and measured playfulness to every song while maintaining a fascinating, cosmic soundscape, it's an album that lingers.

Rat's Spit replaces Lines as the strongest chapter of Lynch's musical vision, arranging a vibrant and overflowing world of sounds and ideas so precisely that the songs never feel messy or overcooked.

FIDLAR strike out in a variety of different directions, landing some new tricks but slamming a lot more. The result is a scattershot collection that just doesn't hang together very well.

With Temporal, Julia Kent continues to craft cerebral yet accessible epics, encompassing a vast spectrum of emotions using a limited set of tools.

Tyler builds on his already sterling reputation as a player and composer, while further establishing himself as a bandleader, on this breezy but neatly sewn collection.

As it acknowledges current hardships and allow the tiniest glimmer of hope for tomorrow, It Won't Be Like This All the Time proves the Twilight Sad are making some of their most vital music more than a decade into their career.

Myth of a Man ultimately feels more like a Danny Lee Blackwell solo project than a Night Beats album, but it's a very good Blackwell solo album--a largely successful creative detour that shows he has more up his sleeve than expected, though fans of his more raucous sessions may be a bit thrown by it.

A front-loaded set song-wise, it maintains an effervescence and living-room danceability that has the potential to charm the masses.

There's no need to search for deeper meanings or enlightenment on Internationally Unknown. Instead, Cardy and Armstrong invite listeners to let go and enjoy the ride, which is an energetic, wild blast.

Tobacco's production throughout the album isn't quite as lo-fi or dirty-sounding as his solo work, and his presence is clearly felt, but he doesn't overpower Aesop. The two are a fitting match for each other, and their collaboration works as well as fans would expect.

These 12 songs represent artistic development and a strike at emotional vulnerability from a talent who could have tread well-known territory indefinitely. At times, the changes feel experimental and uneven, but when they connect, the shifting perspectives of Assume Form are refreshing.

I Used To Be Pretty is an unexpected triumph from a band far too compelling to be a one-off.

Mercurial as it is in terms of stylistic influence and intensity, the album feels woven together by a modestly shifting shared palette, and lyrics full of yearning and awareness.

All of this works nicely, and reinforces the notion that at over twenty years into their career, Papa Roach are handling maturity pretty well.

While it sometimes feels like Rogers could be even bolder than she is on Heard It in a Past Life, it's a strong debut that shows how well she's growing into her fame as well as all the dimensions of her music.

With Love Hates What You Become, Lost Under Heaven hit you in the heart right out of the gate, but then spend the rest of the album building you back up, hammering a crack into reality to let the light in. The album sticks with you even after coming to its crashing end.

The album is an ambitious and adventurous set of music that's every bit as engaged as anything they've ever released, and there's an undertow of discovery that makes their new music an adventure worth a spin or two.

On The Unseen In Between Gunn's guitar is the hub on which his songs turn, but is not their centerpiece. For guitar fans, there's an abundance of fine playing here, but the songwriter's aesthetic shift delivers listeners his most consistent album to date.