Overall, Movements lives up to its name perfectly, moving listeners to get on the dancefloor, moving them to feel something real, and moving We Have Band right up to the top echelon of modern dance-rock acts.

This self-aware mortality is the trump card of Beauty & Ruin, as Mould neither denies his youth nor his age; as he explores his pain, he finds emotional and musical narrative to tie his past to his present and the results are powerful.

While his songs may individually fall into any of these genres, he is first and foremost a songwriter. Thankfully, that is what he does, and he does it as well as anyone in recent memory.

This is indie pop at its absolute finest, Gold-Bears telling their own story of resentment and an always slippery grip on love with the same melancholic charm as some of the many unheard legends of the C-86 scene or the mixtape champions of the American underground.

The Phantom Band's material is of a higher grade and their eclectic sonic blend only adds to this strength.

The result is an album of beautiful juxtapositions, steeped with poetic gravitas that nonetheless never fails soar.

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.

While listeners will have to wait a little longer for a break in the clouds, Ndegeocello and her associates have soundtracked yet another emotional storm in vivid, enthralling fashion.

While Early Riser was pieced and patched together, it flows as a gleaming focused set that combines left-field electronics, alternative R&B, and futuristic jazz.

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.

With a genuine sense of melancholy that is far beyond their young years, the Söderbergs have taken the mild success of their sophomore record, Lion's Roar, in their stride, and with the expert hand of Bright Eyes' Mike Mogis once again producing, the lush harmonies and melodies of this album show that they are worthy of a place in the mainstream.

Copper Gone is a mix of tried and true plus smarter and new, and it's an excellent reason to check in on Sage's evolution.

International announces Lust for Youth as one of the finest acts giving synth pop new life in the 2010s.

Anathema's trademark emotional resonance and musical adventurousness purposefully re-engage earlier electronic forms to make this album a compelling--if controversial--undertaking.

It is perfect for lazy summer afternoons, cozy winter nights, or anytime you might want some music that's blissfully peaceful and sweet, but never boring.

With James' voice and nearly iconic harmonic sensibility as a guide, these genres flow into, rub against, and ultimately redefine one another. His creative reach, at least at this juncture appears to be boundless.

Things Are Great Here is a lovely collection and another unique release by one of the era's most distinctive artists.

Given how fickle Bemis perceives some of his fans, changing up the formula so drastically is a bold move on his part, but it's one that ultimately pays off, making the album a creative high point capable of spawning enough critical debate to fuel a lifetime of Say Anything albums.

The band does everything right on Wooden Head, from songs to sound, and while Hoare probably shouldn't quit his day job, if he and Claps keep making records as good as this he might seriously consider it.

Hornet's Nest confirms that at the age of 64, he has an awful lot of life left in him.

Even when the tracks sound more sketch-like, not fully formed--2013 single "Airglow Fires" is a trifle by Cutler's standard--the sheer moods are appealing.

Ultraviolence thrives for the most part in its density, meant clearly to be absorbed as an entire experience, with even its weaker pieces contributing to a mood that's consumptive, sexy, and as eerie as big-budget pop music gets.

As inspired, awful, and awesome as their debut, the only bummer about Donker Mag is that H.P. Lovecraft, H.R. Geiger, and H.R. Pufnstuf didn't live long enough to hear it.

The album's focus on horn arrangements and roomy, dreamlike production gives it a singular feel, one where listening through the entire album feels not unlike wading through a field of tall reeds as an inexplicably sad autumn day fades into twilight.

Fans of complex, smart pop will be attracted to Williams' attention to detail, but the songwriting itself is also deeply melodic and more lyrically and emotionally honest than before.

Equally critical and affectionate and entirely fascinating, it's some of Daniel's most personal music.

Tthe songs on Noise all fit nicely and naturally into a well-considered larger statement, making it one of Boris' most captivating and all-encompassing efforts in their abundant and colorful oeuvre.

This album's depth and excellence--only the tedious "Like That" falls short--suggest that Deykers should consider going all analog all the time.

There's an open-minded exploratory edge to everything here, as if Black Prairie were delighted to discover that genres are really just in the mind of the beholder.

On Band of Brothers, Nelson reminds us that no matter the iconic place he occupies in American popular music as a vocal stylist, he is a classic country singer and songwriter first.

Grey remains a subtle songwriter, but these songs are direct and often slyly hooky, which means Mutineers makes a striking initial impact then seeps in deeply.

La Petite Mort is a quality release and a welcome return for a band that refuses to sit down.

Weird, wonderful, and otherworldly stuff, as if Lil B. Lil Kim, Beenie Man, Beyonce, and Dr. Frank-N-Furter were spliced together with all their collective sass preserved, then piled high.

The entire album sparkles with this same brilliant pacing and the group's thoughtful trek between detached analog electronics and passionate acoustic instrumentation.

The songwriting, playing, and production here are inspired, kinetic, and far more accessible than ever before.

Much of the album is infused with a Casablancas-meets-RSO Records aesthetic circa 1980. Ultimately, it’s just that style, matched with musical substance, that helps Cruel Runnings register as a lot more than just retro hipster pastiche.

Refreshing in its conciseness and brightness, Shaken Up Versions embraces change even as it unites the different eras of the Dreijers' music.

All these light moments are tempered with Joakim's wistful, distant vocals, as if the album were a lazy getaway where breezy beaches during the day give way to bittersweet memories around the evening campfire. Sweet stuff, and besides that, it sticks.

Just as they did on their best album, Ashes Grammar, the band takes risks and makes leaps, and the results on Sea When Absent prove that they are one of the best, most interesting under-the-radar bands of their era.

Once again, HMD appeal to novices and experts alike.

With Neon Icon it's just as easy to tune in, drop out, and twerk.

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

Phox is an undeniably tight unit, and their long history as friends imbues each track with a distinctive warmth that eludes similar-sounding acts, but their not-so-secret weapon is Martin, who can bend cliches to her will, and does so often throughout the 12-song set.

The album rolls along with a meditative, confident feeling, morphing into a bright dream-like celebration in its many various peaks.

Every Time I Die have established themselves as one of the more reliable and relatable (in a nervy, dysfunctional way) acts to come out of the genre, not to mention one of the most discernable, and the commanding From Parts Unknown does nothing to tarnish that reputation.

The sounds are by turns troubled, angry, isolated, and wonder-struck in ways that only Hawtin can sound, and Ex adds another mysterious chapter to the Plastikman story.

With sharp production and some of the better compositions Phish have managed in ages, Fuego ranks among their best studio albums, capturing strands of the frenetic, cartoonish, darkly cautionary, and open-hearted expressions that make their concerts such moving experiences, but which often get lost when the tape starts rolling.

Ambitious in its reach, Remedy keeps close to the ground in in its inspiration and execution.

Revival ranks among their best work and is definitely their most contemporary effort in tone.

Common Ground isn't "The Return of the Alvin Brothers" so much as a joyous continuation of the mission they launched when the Blasters first hit the stage in 1979, and if they're a little older and craggier in 2014, they clearly know how to make this stuff rock, and this is a modest triumph for one of roots rock's most fascinating partnerships.

This album presents a more pronounced sense of drama from the progressive aspect of analog electronic exploration, and delivers compelling yet open-ended compositions. To that end, it is nearly sublime.

To say it's her most accessible album yet doesn't diminish it or her previous albums; instead, it's the sound of Furler owning her success.

The Phoenix shouldn't shock those who know the producer's past.

All the new bits here and there, and the slightly altered course, help to make Paperback Ghosts the most accessible Comet Gain record yet, without compromising any of the burning passion that has made them so important to their loyal fans.

This is a debut by default and not an all-encompassing coming out party, but Skull and Popcaan are simpatico on Where We Come From, so love it for what it is.

Tales of CSNY acrimony are legend, but this rancor rarely surfaced on record. Here, those brawling egos are pushed to the forefront, with all the pretty harmonies operating as an accent to the main event.

Some Reigning Sound fans might miss the harder-rocking side of the band, but if you're looking for ten new Greg Cartwright songs sung with real heart and soul, Shattered is just what you've been waiting for.

In theory, balance and restraint aren't the most exciting virtues for an album to possess, but in practice, Liminal's subtlety is confident and dynamic.

It's not the Scotland of Walker's shortbread and red-bearded pipers that so often gets shoveled out to tourists, but a moving portrait of strong-willed people enduring in times of change.

No matter what he ends up doing, Strange Desire is a very strong, sometimes thrilling slice of modern nostalgia that gets better with every listen.

Wonders never cease on Mandatory Fun, and neither do the laughs.

Yes! is not a record fueled by the heady rush of love at first sight; it's an album designed to soundtrack a long getaway weekend for a couple already in love.

So basically, it's another weird, great White Fence album, only the bass is a little clearer, the drums a bit louder, and there's less tape hiss. Only die-hard four-track fanatics could complain about that.

At once hookier and more abstract than some of X&O's previous albums, Par Avion is another subtle step forward for the duo that should please longtime fans and win new ones.

Alvvays find a way to articulate their heart-struck, dream-like songs with deft intention and control.

Showcasing Cold Beat's versatility as well as its focus, Over Me lets listeners discover more each time they play it--which should be often.

Everything Infinite is an amazingly focused debut from a couple of guys who have already perfected their sound and give the impression that they could keep doing it for years to come.

It's a shame that such a vanguard effort is weakened by a few clever and jokey interludes that don't warrant a return, but that just leaves Shabazz Palaces room for a proper masterpiece as the brilliant Lese Majesty is so very close.

The second half, where he traces his friendship with J Dilla, involves some brilliant storytelling, and perhaps the only moments during the album's sessions when Common cracked a smile while recording. It's a touching finish to the rapper's best album since Be.

PS I Love You have crafted an undeniably pop-centric slab of modern noise rock that gives a tip of the hat to manic confectioners of the past like The Pixies, Pavement, Weezer, and Jesus and Mary Chain, and that tour-T-shirt-and-empty-juice-box early- to mid-'90s vibe permeates the majority of the proceeding.

Joyce Manor make 20 minutes feel way more epic than the running time might promise, and Never Hungover Again ends up as the kind of record that feels like an instant classic.

They are ruthlessly efficient, unmerciful, redundant, triumphant, and wholly invested in darkness, volume, destruction, and little else.

It might be easy to take The Raveonettes for granted, or to cast them aside in favor of the latest flavor of the month. Like the rest of their 2010s output, the strength and near-brilliance of Pe'ahi show clearly what a mistake it would be to do either of those things.

Counterfeit Blues is a rough-hewn, hardcore country revelation.

Pick any track off The Golden Age of Glitter, drop it into the middle of the Dazed and Confused soundtrack, and not only would it fit, you'd probably turn it up. That's a serious compliment for this particular band.

It's a nifty record: a double-edged throwback, evoking the singer/songwriters of the '60s but sounding like a different part of that decade, which is why its retro-ism winds up as invigorating.

This is a surprisingly, satisfyingly vigorous record.

Whoop Dee Doo is the Muffs playing near the top of their game.

It could be argued that Brooks trades intensity for pleasure on The Grand Tour, but as the album moves from dazzling to serene and back again, he sounds more assured than ever.

Cold World is an example of what Daptone and the retro-soul crowd are doing right, and it's an authoritative and affecting piece of work.

They Want My Soul is more of a welcome return than a comeback, and too complex to be considered back-to-basics--especially when they reinvent the basics on each album.

It's uncompromising yet masterful, an auspicious and perhaps even magical first offering.

Despite being only a side project, the sheer quality and array of styles found on Owl John's self-titled debut is testament to the prolific songwriting skills of Scott Hutchison.

Perhaps it'd be better to sample this ten-disc travelog in pieces--perhaps that's the only way to listen to a box as large as this--but each individual installment provides its own peculiar, satisfying pleasures and, when combined, all the discs paint a deep, detailed portrait of a rocker unlike any other.

Wild Onion makes a huge impact from beginning to end, and serves notice to all the bands out there who think they are playing rock & roll the way it should be played that there are some new kids on the scene who can show them a thing or ten.

FKA Twigs' music was already so fully realized that LP 1 can't really be called Barnett coming into her own; rather, her music has been tended to since the "Water Me" days, and now it's flourishing.

Get Hurt shows that so long as they're passionate about their music, it doesn't matter where the band are getting their inspiration from, because genuinely caring about something is always compelling.

While the music, all weepy pedal steel, soft piano, finger-picked electric and acoustic guitars, and on-the-nose handclaps, points to the West Coast, Johnson's lyrical tone is one of firm yet agreeable Midwest stoicism, all self-effacement, polite disagreement, and weary acceptance of one's place in the world.

End Times Undone is a fine addition to a long career of near brilliant indie rock.

All of it fits together surprisingly well here--a satisfying, if imperfect, sampling.

Crafted with artist Chris Shen, the album is a spatial wonder, reflecting the outdoor nature of its title with a soundfield that sounds like the great outdoors.

Country funk, no matter how one defines it, might not be a real musical style per se, but as presented here, and in the first volume of this series, it emerges as a reminder that no musical style stands in isolation.

Lucero are musicians and showmen at the same time, and Live from Atlanta captures both sides beautifully. If you're any kind of fan, this is essential.

From years six through ten, Hyperdub has remained as reliable and forward-thinking as it was during its first five years.

Creed's commitment to Chrome's vision is as strong as ever, and the results will put a demented grin on the face of longtime fans.

Twenty-six albums in, Loudon Wainwright's signature is etched even more deeply into the American songsmith grain on Haven't Got the Blues (Yet).

Beal quietly weaves an environment for listeners to drop in on, ignore, or linger in as they choose.

This is Yorkston's world and story, and his gently picked guitar and rough-hewn voice provide the heart of yet another fine release.