The sound of three people ripping through hooky tunes without regard for pleasantries and taste is one of the joys of rock & roll, and Vivian Girls do satisfy on that account.

Noisy yet nuanced, Electric Brick Wall delivers some of the high points of Herrema's discography.

Like his two previous studio albums, Solitary Man is sparsely produced by Rick Rubin, and continues the themes of love, faith, and loneliness that their previous collaborations have chillingly embraced.

A bakers' dozen of their most focused and cohesive songs. Where their earlier albums were eclectic to the point of being scattershot, this release manages to limit the band's style-switching to dreamy, sweeping epics like "Godless" and "Nietzsche"; sussed, sleazy power pop like "Horse Pills" and "Cool Scene"; and country and gospel ventures like "Country Leaver" and "The Gospel."

The front placement of two T-Pain collaborations gets the album off to a strong, strutting start. Several of her established associates, such as Blac Elvis and Pop & Oak, eventually arrive to ensure a familiar mix of traditional structures and contemporary dressing.

There's just enough looseness in these performances to honor the punk side of their personality, but LiE finds them rocking as hard and as confidently as they did in their heyday, if not more so.

A Legacy of Rentals captures him at the peak of his powers. It's art wrought from real life which is all the more devastating for it's easy recognizability.

Ultimately, there is real growth here, subtle and unpretentious as it is.

These ten songs sound almost designed to be played on repeat, and keep with the always colorful and ecstatically fun sound audiences have come to expect from one of the best acts going in retrofitted classic soul.

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.

The energy is, as ever, uniformly positive, albeit with a spirit that is more commonly playful, as on “Simple Advice” (loaded with so much kinetic percussion that it resembles a go-go band’s warm-up session), “Summer Love” (a lighthearted duet with Perkins over crawling, “Cutie Pie”-like machine funk), and “Room Punk!” (45 seconds of happily throwaway pop-punk).

Regardless of the musical ingredients that went into this album, Corsicana Lemonade is their most down-home batch of sweet southern brew yet.

The main successes of Final Days come with its more complex arrangements as well as more nuanced and exacting performances.

Segall and Company get straight As in terms of delivering big, psych-damaged, garage-infused hard rock, and if you want to hear Segall kick out the jams, Live in San Francisco is exactly what you need.

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

While it might be nice to see a little more focus on something nearer to a composite sound, Wishy have already got a good thing going on an auspicious debut LP.

It's intriguing and at times vaguely unsettling.

If you hack off the misguided finish, Fall Heads Roll proves they can still live up to their legend.

With the release of the album DS2--Dirty Sprite 2, named after his hit mixtape -- he becomes a hip-hop version of Lee "Scratch" Perry, a strange and yet in command figure standing at the center of a slick, inventive swirl of music.

Ya-Ka-May is not merely a collaborative amalgam of tracks, but rather a unified whole reflecting NOLA’s musical vitality and reveling in it all simultaneously; it's the sound of a musical community being itself for itself, while screaming--in full party mode--into the world that it's alive and evolving.

Even as Low’s sound twisted into new forms over the years, they never quite got into bluegrass territory, and it takes a few songs to acclimate to the combination of high-spirited acoustic music and Sparhawk’s emotionally powerful but usually subtle style.

Throughout it all Segarra struts her stuff without the slightest bit of arrogance (most of the arrangements are spare, but never willfully so), offering up a confident, yet ultimately amiable set of millennial-informed, urban crafted, Woody Guthrie-inspired, contemporary hobo-folk anthems that play fast and loose with genre tropes without losing the essence that makes them universal.

In many ways, Animated Violence Mild feels like the inevitable sequel to World Eater. Where that album used the full force of Power's music to rail against the world's injustices, this one reflects the resignation, frustration, and emotional overload of its time in its startling and moving tracks.

The album could have been pared down a bit, yet it's a drop in a bucket for Booth and Brown. Prior to this, their discography clocked in at 18 hours or so. What's another two hours?

It all glides by easily enough on its surface, but dig a little deeper and The Magic Numbers reveals itself to be not just a crashing bore, but an irritating one.

It's that perfect balance of sadness, vitriol, and absurdity that makes Hitchcock (when he's on) such a legendary social commentator.

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.

Utilizing a pit band that includes percussion, melodica, pump organ, bassoon, cello, glockenspiel, tuba, and sousaphone, Regifted Light is largely instrumental, allowing listeners the pleasure of hearing Dee's artfully constructed melodies and arrangements, as well as her truly impressive ivory work, without the arguable distraction of her divisive, thespian-bred voice.

Cosmic Lieder isn't heavy or indulgent; it's deeply focused, curiously open-ended, and deeply satisfying.

While his technical acumen remains uncontested, the addition of blistering bluegrass singer/guitarist Michael Daves and notorious engineering luddite White into the mix has helped to temper Thile's signature refinements into something raw and primal.

The essence of the music might be simple but the band squeezes remarkable emotions from it. The new world order of psychedelia is here.

Purists may, of course, have their qualms, but it would be hard to deny the combination of reverence, proficiency, and sheer exuberance in evidence here -- indeed, it's difficult to imagine any serious limits of this band's appeal.

Libraries retains nearly everything that was memorable about the Love Language's debut as it improves on what McLamb accomplished before.

Quakers is the kind of album where favorite tracks change from listen to listen, and a testament to hip-hop's enduring power.

For a debut album, There Is a Bomb in Gilead sounds remarkably confident and assured.

Obey the Brave's no-nonsense approach, boundless energy and verve, and catharsis-cleansing rage make the songs on Young Blood crackle with the out-of-control power of both the hungriest up-and-comers and all the institutions of power metal that came before.

Ultimately, Where Do You Start is an intimate, impressionistic, and probing release that should certainly appeal to longtime fans of Mehldau's nuanced jazz style.

Free the Music is skilled and adventurous, never succumbing to pretension thanks to Niemann's game sense of humor.

The expert elastic roots rock of the Rumour gives his songs depth, making Three Chords Good the rare reunion that simultaneously looks back while living in the present

On Triple Beams' marriage of the Dead Milkmen's irreverence and Wire's brilliant, repetitive simplicity makes the album one that will definitely scratch the itch for any punk fan, and will make a quick fan out of anyone not already on board with Tyvek's grinding punk goodness.

The bottom line is Bakersfield smokes from top to bottom; a fitting tribute, it is one of, if not the, best country album of 2013.

Clocking in at over an hour, Soma is by no means a brief experience, but Windhand's ability to craft doom that actually feels dynamic makes the album the sort of meditative journey that metal fans would be foolish not to embark upon.

What underlies the handclaps and radiant melodies on their sophomore album Divisionary are songs that noticeably delve deeper into philosophical and darker themes than the wide-eyed optimism that engulfed their debut, and marks the evolution the band have undergone.

What makes Picture You Staring so deeply enjoyable is the band’s acute sense of when to obscure their sound and when to let it shine through. Walking this tightrope, TOPS never go so far off the deep end of their experimental recording side to completely hide their sad-hearted hooks.

The group really did a fine job of crafting something low-key and gloomy here.

Worthy is another impressive release from an outstanding singer, and if it follows the pattern of some of her recent albums, nothing here sounds rote; this is the sound of an artist doing what she does best, and she is far more than worthy of this great music.

All these years on, Soul Food may sound as revolutionary as its predecessor, but it is stronger and far more adventurous musically.

Throughout it all, co-founders, producers, and arrangers Ben Ellman and Robert Mercurio sonically map out a NOLA that's as vibrant and forward thinking as it is steeped in the region's rich culture, cementing the band's reputation (20 years in) as both innovators and stalwart defenders of tradition.

Armed with several strong songs, Georgia is an impressive, inventive debut.

An album that embodies all the complex contradictions and unfettered optimism of modern country-pop in 2015.

Every other record in their catalog hinted at their further development as a metal unit; this one doesn't. Trivium are using the building blocks of metal to pursue a wider, more nuanced, musical direction.

Returning fans won't be disappointed, while newcomers with a taste for blissful journeys will likely be entranced.

It's exciting to hear someone so young and confident on the cusp of greatness.

The talent and vision of these artists makes this a surprisingly powerful and impressive work, and is a testament to the fact both the Mekons and Robbie Fulks need to record more often. When they do, the results are never ordinary, and neither disappoints.

Any listener who has derived satisfaction from Snarky Puppy's live recordings will easily find it here, too. This is the place where musical restlessness and discipline meet creative adventure.

Ultimately, while Metheny is the undisputed leader here, it's the thoughtful interplay of all the Unity Group's members that makes these sessions so involving.

Hunter works within his limits, rocking just hard enough to seem vital and, best of all, his songs remain a thing of wonder: careful and clever, the work of a singer/songwriter who values idiosyncrasy over eccentricity.

XAM Duo is a synth lover's dream, a calming balm to the hectic hustle of modern life, and a trippy excursion into the futuristic past.

The boldness and hunger in Mandel's playing not only achieves the hallmarks of his best sides from the '60s and '70s, but at times reaches further. Not just a guitar nerd's album, Snake Pit is a stone killer from top to bottom.

Up and Coming clocks in at under 50 minutes. Its compositional and improvisational economy is countered by the quartet's disciplined ability to colorfully and authoritatively illustrate an abundance of creative ideas without even hinting at compromise.

Forever and Then Some is as moving as it is auspicious. Mae is a singer/songwriter whose embrace of roots musical traditions bodes well for her as she articulates her own vision of Americana.

It's spacious and fluid rather than rock-solid and rigid, but every sound and movement feels entirely deliberate. Nearly 40 years after their formation, Laibach remain innovators, and Also Sprach Zarathustra is easily one of their best works. Absolutely glorious.

It's very difficult to argue with what Rawlings and company have assembled here. Aside from one misstep (that, to be fair, others might find less wearying) ["Lindsay Button"is the set's longest track and it feels like it], it's every bit as good as Nashville Obsolete.

Life Is Fine doesn't break new ground for Kelly, but it also shows he doesn't need to come up with new concepts or mess with his formula in order to make a memorable album.

Isotach means a line on a map that connects points of equal wind speed, and this feels like an album that's attempting to achieve some sort of equilibrium--a fragile balance that Bourne goes some way to accomplish.

Although there are ominous qualities to some of the tracks--blunt drums, clanging noises, refracted and probing synthesizers evoking not-so-fun houses and slasher flicks--this is brighter than Two/Three. Sweet and synthetic woodwinds and strings, sublime piano loops, and other delightful wrinkles are more common than the creep-out components.

Victory Lap is not just a celebration from the scrappy MC: it's a deserved moment marking his journey from Crenshaw to the majors.

Fortunately, Goat Girl's singles offer a more pulled-together version of the band's bracing sound, whether it's the wry jangle of "Cracker Drool," the hip-shaking sass of "The Man," or the sexy, sneering defiance of "Country Sleaze." Moments like these are so compelling that they suggest Goat Girl are just beginning to tap into their potential on this exciting debut.

The Alligator Bride is louder and prouder than Mansion Songs, but it's also somehow more relaxed, as if there is nothing to prove. Hopefully, Miller will keep this rocking line-up together for the foreseeable future.

At first glance, it's easy to underestimate Culture Abuse for the part-time slackers they present themselves to be, but there's a lot more to them than meets the eye on this satisfying second effort.

The perpetually unraveling nature of Infinite Moment results in a perfectly paced listening experience that's almost impossible not to get lost in.

Throughout the record, Tropical Fuck Storm intentionally eschew formulaic song structure, relying on unconventional songwriting rather than mining pseudo-psych-rock. As a result, the sense of apocalyptic adventure is palpable; luckily, it's a joy to go along for the ride.

Cerebral yet soulful, Any Random Kindness strikes an ideal balance for Hælos, a significant step forward in their evolution.

With all of the organic classical instrumentation employed here, the electronic side of Maps is significantly downplayed, lending Colours the added weight of strength in acoustic numbers, an effect that has consistently delivered emotional resonance to listeners for hundreds of years.

As a writer, Kempner's antennae are acutely tuned in to the heart's dizzying range of emotions, and with Black Friday, her connection remains as strong as ever.

The radical changes Trash Kit made to their music only heighten their time-tested strengths, and Horizon is some of their most satisfying music as well as their most forward-looking.

The band rounds out the album with more familiar-sounding songs like "Stranger in a New Town" and "Good Night Out," but it's Powers' riskier, more revealing moments that prove the Futureheads have more to say than ever before.

Their earlier recordings were all top-notch indie rock, worthy of all the Omni comparisons that were flung their way. Junior is Corridor's coming-of-age party, and now Omni might have to work a little harder to keep up with them.

It's obvious that Broadrick and Martin left a considerable amount of space for Ayewa's righteous venting, as the bass and drums get bigger and louder during the album's instrumental second half.

While some of the musicians play with the frameworks of Allison's music -- most notably Robbie Fulks' fractured reading of "My Brain" and the electro-processed New Orleans vibe of Iggy Pop's "If You're Going to the City" -- most are content to find a middle ground between their own signature approach and Allison's laid-back but emphatic groove.

The more subdued affect of Aloha makes it a less immediately satisfying listen than New Magic, but that does nothing to change that this is a rewarding effort from an exciting and engaging talent.

Dixie Blur is Wilson's most personal and direct collection of songs. They are wrought poetically from memory and inspired by the excellence of the sublime performances from his sidemen.

In The Color Out of Space, Stetson's score is, in its empathy, an actual character, one that accompanies the protagonists as a witness, portraying every encounter with an alien force without ever being intrusive.

Arguably, this edition of 8: Kindred Spirits, though only a first set, is one of Lloyd's strongest live offerings to date.

The individual tunes hold their own, but Monovision is a record where the whole means more than the individual numbers, since LaMontagne strikes a very specific mood -- one that's reassuring, even soothing -- and then manages to sustain it until the end.

[Some songs] are new, some of which were handed out to other musicians over the years. When collected on Living on Mercy -- and delivered by a crew of empathetic old pros -- they feel of a piece, a sweet, soulful, and reflective effort from a masterful singer/songwriter that benefits from its mellowness and slow, assured gait.

Even if The Last Exit is sometimes a little too wispy, it's still a fitting soundtrack for getting lost on the open road.

These nine songs are some of the most neatly rendered of the band's post-2010 output, but lose none of their mind-bending effect in the production upgrade. If anything, the album finds the Telescopes delivering their messages of self-discovery and cosmic love louder than ever.

This is entertaining from front to back, if not quite as much of a thrill as Waterhouse's previous studio LP.

None of the Indications' contemporaries have put together a set as distinctly purpose-built and delightful as this one.

At times, American Noir sounds like the product of an undead E Street Band, like a strong line of thunderstorms suddenly appearing above "highways jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive."

This is still a smart, powerful rock band with sharp wit and an abundance of well-deserved confidence -- but the added details and textures make a difference, and this music points to a more interesting future for them than one might have imagined after Femejism.

Mahal and Cooder stay close to the originals, but whether faithfully evoking the sound and spirit of their mentors or using them as lift-off points for expansion, this glorious album honors their subjects with joy and swagger as well as devotion.

Listeners with an aversion to the zeitgeist razzle-dazzle and rambunctious frivolity are very well served. "Why Try" and "No ID," located in the middle, are supple disco-funk throwbacks; the latter is as bubbly-tough as anything off Evelyn "Champagne" King's first album (if with 2022 attitude). They lead to a second half where the madness is mostly mellow.

Is it possible Guided by Voices have become the best recording act of their day? Add Tremblers and Goggles by Rank to the dozen other LPs they released in the 60 months previous, and the argument doesn't seem the least bit unreasonable.

The album's production is warm, spacious, and full of depth, but not in an overwhelming way. Ali is casual-sounding yet inspired, and a tremendously inviting listen.

The reliably uncompromising Omens includes some of the band's heaviest and most apoplectic works to date, with highlights arriving via the pummeling "Nevermore" and "Greyscale," and the unrelenting title cut.

Only a few select moments that are more illuminated provide enough clarity to give you an idea of where things are going. Still, the drive for exploration is what makes the voyage worth taking, and rRoxymore's music eludes easy comparison.