If it ["Ballon de Peut-Etre"] stands out from the other tracks, it shows Bird is in touch with the improvisational heart of post-war jazz, and it's a bold but satisfying conclusion to an LP that reminds us just how quietly brilliant Andrew Bird can be.

Somebody will really have to pull off a miracle to top Nashville as far as intelligent, honest and entertaining guitar pop goes in 2005. Or any other year.

More than most Bonnie "Prince" Billy records, this is one of those austere records, filled with lyrical archaisms -- fans will think first of Master and Everyone -- but Kelly and company prove a capable foil for the monolith of Oldham's rustic songwriting and singing.

Sometimes needlessly complex and, at its worst, goofy for the sake of being goofy--proper boots-in-a-dryer bizniz with shrill flotsam swirling about--these tracks can be as off-putting as they are exhilarating.

Even when they slow down, there's a lot of excitement in Pottery's music. Though they frequently threaten to steamroll over anyone within earshot of Welcome to Bobby's Motel, the band have so much fun that their listeners probably won't mind.

This is smart, passionate music, as strong musically as it is lyrically, and like so much of Eitzel's work, if it isn't always hopeful, it's full of a humanity that shines out through the darkness.

Though it lacks their star power and radio-ready hooks, it offers instead songs that are written and sung with a heartfelt authenticity neither McGraw nor Hill can rival.

100 Proof is the album where Kellie Pickler stops being a TV star and turns into a genuine recording artist: it's an album that's not just good when graded on a curve, but good by any measure.

Calvi's less adventurous fans may find themselves at a loss as to how to process it all, but there's something both immaculate and broken about One Breath that ultimately transcends its more difficult moments.

While Ruins' sound is stripped-down, it's filled with emotional magnitudes. Harris' confessions are that much more devastating thanks to their almost overheard nature, and her whispered vocals mean her audience has to listen to them as closely as possible.

On Versions, Idjut Boys inject a bit of spice into tracks that occasionally verged on being too mellow in their original forms, resulting in a set of trippy, blissful reworks that are easily recommended over their source material.

One of the most powerful hip-hop albums of 2007.

Local H are not only still making great music, but have released their bravest, most provocative, and most ambitious album to date, and Hallelujah! I'm a Bum is a powerful look into a side of America that will be uncomfortably familiar to nearly everyone who hears it.

Down Like Gold showcases the duo's harmony-laden, folk, and indie pop sound.

Like the best of any collections of covers, Other People's Songs offers a completely unexpected perspective and at the same time makes us want to revisit the original versions and investigate the differences.

Curious, ramshackle, and unapologetically rough around the edges, the two-disc, 24-track set is more sprawling than it is ambitious, but like everything else that the enigmatic Richard Davies (Moles, Cardinal, Cosmos) lays his hands on, the results are, more often than not, mesmerizing.

The album is intriguing and accessible, yet just strange enough to stand out among all the other experimental electronic artists mining the early new age era for inspiration.

Martha's confessional and lovelorn themes fit perfectly in their revved-up pop framework. Love Keeps Kicking is a crystal-clear presentation of their powers, making equal space for the group's enduring stories of heartsickness, well-crafted pop structures, and blazing guitar work.

Not only does Little Bastards get at everything that makes the Kills equally enduring and inventive, it's a lot of fun, too.

Both occasionally cringy and refreshing for its willingness to express bitterness, History of a Feeling's greatest strength lies in its emotional honesty.

Whereas Fyah relied on jazz and funk as twin lines of harmonic and rhythmic inquiry, Intra-I multiplies their import by strategically locating them inside a far deeper, wider mix to create an original music that looks squarely at the future.

Hitchcock has settled into a sort of seasoned eccentricity, and this economical, late career gem proves that he's still got plenty of Madcap Laughs left in the hopper.

This is beautiful, heart-wrenching music that no one with a heart and a soul can walk away from without feeling its impact.

The End, So Far may not be a home run, but it proves that the band are still in it to win it, even if they're playing the long game.

It's not a return to form, a return to pop, or really a return of any kind, just a continuation of the band's blissfully weird frames of mind and a record that includes some of their strongest songs in years.

Invisible Hour is a beautiful, haunting collection of songs that only Joe Henry could create, and whether you're familiar with his work of not, you're likely to find something that will impress you on this album.

Deforming Lobes feels like Ty Segall's answer to the MC5's epochal Kick Out The Jams, and if it lacks that great album's sense of lysergic experimentalism, the Freedom Band's ability to graft garage punk noise onto a sonic onslaught worthy of Blue Cheer more than compensates. Play this one loud.

Despite its panoply of styles and personnel, the album remains consistently interesting while still adhering to the Afro-fusion vibe that is his hallmark.

What makes it a better, richer work is how it simultaneously holds every side of White, existing at the crossroads where modernity, tradition, hard work, and inspiration all meet.

Fresh and surprisingly accessible despite its quirks, Visions is bewitching.

Initially, the noise is the allure, but subsequent spins reveal these songs are as tightly constructed as those Howard writes for Alabama Shakes and, in some respects, maybe even a little sturdier.

As per usual, it's Hannigan's otherworldly voice that provides the anchor, effortlessly shifting from smoky lows to crystalline highs like a precision sports car on a twisty mountain test drive.

Music for People in Trouble is rooted in empathy, and even at its most cynical--the woebegone "No One Believes in Love Anymore" comes to mind--the warmth of its core radiates outward.

Bright Sunny South doesn't stray too far from Amidon's previous work, but still suggests his development in its gorgeous production, increasingly deft arrangements, and a general sense of greater confidence and vision throughout the record.

As with his debut, City Music feels very much like a postcard to New York, though this time Morby arrives with some accumulated miles to help support his wizened tone.

While it sounds less like a single-minded effort from Chasney than it does a high-spirited collective freakout from a reconfigured Comets on Fire, Chasney is still at the core of all the songs, transmitting his freaky visions in the guise of one face-melting power jam after another.

By cutting away some of the fat and finding new ways to deliver their trademark roar, the members of Korn manage to offer a strong and lean album that maintains their place as innovators in a genre with few leaders

At base, Contino is a reasonably entertaining and sometimes quite compelling combination of slower dance aesthetics translated into rock & roll terms and sounds. It just isn't the end of the world, that's all.

The production is still huge and full, although audiophiles may be disturbed by the overdriven acoustic guitars on certain songs that give an unnerving sensation of blown speaker cones. It's a forgivable stylistic decision, and doesn't detract much from the overall solidarity of the disc.

Party Intellectuals is easily Ribot's most fun album to date and one of his best.

Megafaun are just as taken by quietly tortured dark-night-of-the-soul whisperings, lo-fi oddities, and shards of feedback shade as they are of banjos and summertime evenings, giving Gather, Form and Fly a bit of an unsettled edge at various points.

While some listeners might find the Projectors' rather knowing idiosyncracy off-putting and smug, there are songs here that suggest the band has finally found the formula that finely balances its well-meaning musical intellectualism with actual pop songs.

While it may be a shade less inspired than The Tao of the Dead, this is a solid, rugged album that underscores ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead's position as trailblazers and torchbearers when it comes to mixing passion and politics.

This is just one of those albums that works great either as a stoney throwback or a party-starter.

The dusky flute and steadfast bass take care to set us back down on our feet as a bubbly synth bays like a hungry hound in the distance and twilight fades peacefully into night.

A smart and resourceful exercise in pop that works on several levels, Springtime Carnivore is an impressive calling card from an artist who clearly has interesting things up her sleeve.

Undoubtedly, these re-workings are a deliberate gesture to signal the 20-year gap that now finds our heroes in middle-age. ... Being the filmmaker that he is, Danny Boyle was never going to allow the music to be entirely nostalgic, and one of his most inspired contemporary picks is Fat White Family.

There's a very singular character to Girlpool's music, and it's a pleasure to be able to dip into the remarkable world they have created.

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.

Overall, Jambinai's third album is both grander and more restrained than its predecessors, achieving a vast, wide-open sound that is equally focused and direct.

The band wears its middle age well, sounding focused and more exacting than they did in the '90s, yet still undeniably vigorous. That Soundgarden sustains that energy throughout a marathon is a testament to their strength as musicians and that Live From The Artist's Den maintains its interest throughout its two and a half hours is a testament to the depth of their catalog.

As a reflection of the times, Ghosts VI: Locusts might be the more accurate soundtrack to a world on the brink of an uncertain future, wiping away any goodwill fostered by the deceptive serenity of Ghosts V: Together.

On All Thoughts Fly, von Hausswolff yearns to express the unspeakable -- that which lies not just beyond words but stands apart from them. She offers a musical authority that can only be fully realized when openly acknowledging and submitting to one's own vulnerability.

Although there are fewer flat-out astonishing moments here than on the earlier LPs, numerous cuts elicit blues-shedding movement and seem unfadeable.

The care and intention applied to all aspects of Earth Trip make it the lightest set from Rose City Band to date, sustaining a mood that's consistently joyful and relaxed, even through various fluctuations in energy and emotional intensity.

If Jenny From Thebes may be a bit more cryptic than his best work, every song contains a yarn worth hearing, and his quietly bold, ordinary-guy delivery is surprisingly flexible, adjusting itself to fit any situation he presents.

Fun, naughty, and a little nasty, 3AM stretches the typical party-friendly novelty sound that Confidence Man perfected on their first two albums, showcasing artistic growth with a laser-focused intent to keep your body moving late into the night, when it feels like anything can (and will) happen.

Ultimately, Can I Get a Pack of Camel Lights? represents a deepening of Geologist’s already unique musical language. He uses the hurdy gurdy as an entry point for many of the songs, but always proceeds to strange, new places from there.

The remastering is bright and crisp, and it stands the test of time. .... The songs intended for 15 Big Ones are a bit of a mixed bag, with covers of songs like "Mony Mony" and "Running Bear" falling flat, due to the band's basic disinterest in what they were doing. On the other hand, the cover of the Righteous Brothers' "Just Once in My Life" is quite beautiful. .... Another reason to get excited about the collection is that tracks from the banished Adult/Child get a proper airing here.

There's a lot of ground covered here, of course, yet the band never loses sight of its destination, and those who can keep up are in for a tuneful journey.

Much of Blue Banisters has this kind of casual, first-take energy, and functions more like a mixtape than an album as Del Rey cultivates a sustained atmosphere, but still makes room to try out new ideas and inject some unexpected moves into her established sound.

It's a poetic work of circling guitars and melodic phrases and vocal lines repeating and layered like monastic chants.

This set bears all the hallmarks of Stetson’s artistic singularity--athletic, circular breathing, polytonal and harmonic exploration, focused composition, vocalizing from the horn.

How Do You Burn? suggests he needs a fiercer and more energetic team of underlings if he's going to remain a force to be reckoned with.

Largely due to Duffy's restrained, inward-facing vocals, Fun House is at its best on songs with soft-spoken, atmospheric designs, but the experiments here are far from missteps.

All in all, though Bugg's debut may not share the wordy precociousness of Conor Oberst's formative steps or the political astuteness of Willy Mason on Where the Humans Eat, it's his sheer earnestness and rare gift for writing simple, hook-filled tunes that ultimately charms the listener.

A striking, satisfying album that balances the boldness of a debut with the experience Rocketnumbernine has gained since You Reflect Me.

Taken all together, it's a formidable, empowering set, one that's taking charge of the present and not interested in rehashing the past.

The album is unique in that it gives a very personal look into an individual's experience with catharsis, and it's one more of murmurs and heavy sighs than screaming matches and broken dishes.

Occasionally, MassEducation borders on being too stark for its own good, but the songs hold their power in this unvarnished setting.

This is not a novelty or a throwaway, and even though there's technically no "new" music, Nine Inch Noize goes beyond the idea of a "remix," carrying over three decades of material into the future with the help of an unlikely creative muse.

Its beauty is multivalent: while the music is made of constant motion, it creates an utterly still space in the listener, who can not only eventually recognize its numerous patterns emerging and dissipating, but can follow them down through various levels of consciousness as they resonate inside and outside the body.

McClinton doesn't try to reinvent the wheel on Prick of the Litter, but he doesn't have to; his voice, despite his age, was made for songs like these, while the charts and band performances are equally inspired. This is a memorable date in a catalog full of them.

Nothing Is True & Everything Is Possible is either the best or the worst Enter Shikari outing to date. What it certainly isn't is dull.

The Witness is a consumptive listening experience, designed with precision and purpose in the same way as the immersive albums that came before it by Portishead, Talk Talk, Radiohead, and other artists willing to take their time systematically disassembling and rebuilding their music.

Tarantula Heart's five tracks contain more than an album's worth of weirdness and power. It's a wild ride, even for the Melvins, and further solidifies their status as seemingly invincible practitioners of heavy, messed-up music.

To call I Tell a Fly a difficult listen may be understating it, but within this madcap art-pop song cycle, which is purportedly about two flies in love, are some genuine payoffs for those with the patience to stick with it.

Like so many records of 2018, it is clearly cut together on computer, with dense rhythms competing with smooth surfaces--but also not chasing pop trends. Instead, it's a mature modern album, one filled with questions but also curiously settled, a combination that makes World's Strongest Man more rewarding with each listen.

Low give us a definitive chapter for where they are presently, and present it with more clarity and joy than we've heard from them in some time.

The delicateness of Half the Perfect World is certainly nice, but Peyroux seems to be using it as a device to hide behind instead of an actual expression of feeling.

Although lacking the silly and immature content found in their early output, the group retain their cheeky spirit, using that irreverence to process a society on the verge of collapse in a manner that's still uniquely Puscifer. As the world burns, Keenan and company hold a mirror to the calamity, forcing us to face reality and figure out a way to move forward.

Whether it's a nod of recognition and a helpful hand ("Throne") or a brief dalliance in the moonlight ("Dressed in Black"), All of Us Flames' mission statement is one of resistance, inclusion, and the healing power of finding and protecting your tribe.

Let All That We Imagine Be the Light is another fantastic 2020s offering from this masterful quartet, further solidifying their place as alt-rock royalty.

Despite its unconcealed outrage, Gigaton does have its share of shade and texture even before it settles into a number of meditative moments on its second side. ... Aural adventure adds a nice counterpoint to protests and pleas offered up by Pearl Jam, and helps Gigaton feel vivid, alive, and just a shade hopeful.

Creative songcraft and catching melodies are also in full force here, as expected by this point from Nguyen, though the strongest impact of the A Man Alive may be the temerity of its sound--thankfully, there's no need to separate the two. Even at 12 tracks, the album will leave many wanting more (and more Nguyen-Garbus collabs).

Any band looking to play psychedelic music should look to this album (and Smote Reverser) to fully understand the possibilities that exist within (and far outside) of the style and just how far a band with limitless imagination can go if they don't settle for cliches and easy answers and push hard to make something unique and beautiful like the Oh Sees do here (and almost always.)

Slow Focus delivers some of their most masterful and seemingly effortless music yet.

One hell of a live record.

M.A.D.E. is Scarface doing everything right, delivering those cold, hardcore rhymes over uncomplicated, soulful beats.

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.

Poetry and music are so closely aligned anyway that at their best, they become one. This is a stunning, awe-inspiring, love-soaked example.

If nothing on Antifogmatic is quite that ambitious, nevertheless in track after track Thile leads the band through labyrinthine arrangements that shift tempos and instrument groupings, over which he sings abstract lyrics in a slightly disembodied high tenor voice.

Behind the Parade is another superior album from one of rock's true unsung heroes, and chances are it will sound just as vital and exciting two decades hence as it does today.

Soul Power is music that honors the rich traditions of classic R&B while keeping its head and heart in the here and now; some folks say you can't have it both ways, but Curtis Harding is here to show that's a lie.

On record, they do retain some of that magnetism, but much of their songwriting seems to simply serve their musical style without making that much of an impact. There are exceptions, of course, especially with album closer "Egypt Berry," which is easily this album's strongest track.

This set is unified, fully realized, and eloquent, on par with the grandest of musical statements, yet utterly accessible.

Considering how so much of the Beach Boys' reputation rests on their brilliance in the studio, having these outtakes and live cuts focus on their collective personality as a band is an unexpected delight and the entirety of 1967: Sunshine Tomorrow feels like a gift: it bolsters the argument that the period following Pet Sounds and Smile was no less creative than that golden age.

Rife with beautifully intuitive pathos, Recover is the sound of the Naked and Famous turning feelings of heartbreak and desire into powerfully relatable pop moments.