Where All Is Fled builds on Hauschildt's Berlin-school/kosmische influences while exploring new dimensions, resulting in his most immersive, accomplished solo work yet.

Musically and emotionally, this is one of Deerhunter's most powerful--and delicate--albums.

An album that's a noisy, abrasive joy from front to back.

Most of the songs exceed the four-minute mark and the lack of an obvious single makes If I Should Go Before You feel even more like a single, lovingly crafted entity.

If this isn't quite up to the standards of his '80s high-water marks like Night and Day and Big World, it comes close enough that longtime fans will find plenty to enjoy, and some bits that will challenge them.

From their clever songcraft to the very natural manner in which they've presented it, Promised Land Sound have delivered a gem with a rambling country-folk feel and plenty of rock vitality.

Change is good. Growth is necessary for survival. Fans should not be disappointed.

The pairing of Lund and Cobb on Things That Can't Be Undone is a feather in both their caps; as an album, it forges a new path in country music, yet remains exceptionally close to the tradition's heart.

Thr!!!er felt like it might have been !!!'s peak achievement; As If makes the case that they may only be getting started.

Carter Tutti Void create drone albums of great worth and value, leaving the other electro shaman stuck in a loop.

Though Papich sometimes captures the state of an overloaded attention span almost too well, No No's fragments of meaning add up to some of his most fully realized music.

By making an album that succeeds as a meaningful statement and a brilliant pop record at the same time, the Spook School have done the near impossible on Try to Be Hopeful.

Gates of Gold shows they can contemplate the infinite and chart new paths while still sounding like no one but themselves, and they can do all of this with the force and agility they commanded when half their age.

Great news is The Documentary 2 sounds effortless and winds up awesome because of it.

Vega Intl. Night School is just as immersive as Neon Indian's previous work and even more impressionistic, with a flamboyance that makes it a captivating standout within his own work as well as his contemporaries'.

The songwriting on I Worship Chaos is impressive, as if the quartet format forced COB to focus on delivering tunes of real substance before anything else. The performances are equally inspired--the material is so good, it challenge the musicians to pull it off.

The cumulative result is a messy, colorful modern pop record that is greater than the sum of its parts.

Newsom can make her audience work almost as hard as she does, but the rewards are worth it: Dazzling, profound and affecting, Divers' explorations of time only grow richer the more time listeners spend with them.

People looking for a bit more substance from a band that once made concept albums and instituted its own Belief System might wonder what the heck is going on, but anyone who loves pop music that moves feet, brings smiles, and snaps like bubblegum, and who is also deathly tired of the mainstream, will think I Thought the Future Would Be Cooler is just about the coolest thing around.

In its own way, Thank Your Lucky Stars is just as rewarding as Depression Cherry, and arguably more immediate. Instead of releasing another mammoth effort like Bloom, they've delivered two smaller-scale triumphs that can be appreciated separately or together.

Howl finds Rival Consoles limiting his palette in order to creatively push himself, resulting in what is easily his most cohesive, expressive full-length to date.

While Maritime is its own entity, cuts like driving of "Light You Up" and the sanguine "Drinking Peru" retain a youthful punk energy, albeit one filtered through the prism of a decade's worth of musicianship and hard-won maturity.

Overall, even if Central Belters doesn't include every definitive Mogwai song, it's still a comprehensive portrait that captures the nuances of their sound over the years.

There's a bold stroke of genial Southerness that runs through the music and keeps things tempered, honest, and effortlessly authentic, despite a predilection for eccentricity.

Times Infinity 1 is the Dears' most emotionally honest set of songs to date; it's the sound of a once dystopia-obsessed band wrestling with the idea that the light at the end of the tunnel might not be a train.

This recording seems a vital one, and time will tell if the musical is a watershed in big-budget musical theater.

"The Ghetto" with Nas and will.i.am does not disappoint, leaving the album's numbering system the only thing to complain about, as 2015 is the Game's second-best year ever, and there's nothing ".5" about it.

Such of American Tragic is remarkably poppy, at times feeling like a darker response to the '80s AOR revival popularized by the likes of HAIM--or, less controversially, a continuation of Concrete Blonde's throaty, tough-but-vulnerable drama.

Directness is key to her appeal: there are no greys in Carrie's music, only blazing primary colors. Appropriately enough, Storyteller gleams with steely assurance, perhaps the toughest and boldest record yet but one that hardly soft-pedals her softer side.

International Blackjazz Society is not only smartly conceived, Shining's songwriting, arranging, playing, and production are also completely inspired.

As a whole, Sun Leads Me On is a far more confident-sounding animal than 2012's Dark Eyes, with the band coming off less like a hastily assembled, albeit talented, group of strangers, and more like a road-tested, yet well-rested army of four.

All told, Many Moons is not only worthwhile for fans of Real Estate and related projects, but for lovers of the honeyed melodies and genial jangle of the pleasantest of power pop.

With its ghostly music box pianos, electronic watercolors, staccato strings, and elliptical melodies, the album feels simultaneously elusive and introspective.

Be Small is loaded with simply good, interesting songs.

This is unapologetically well-tailored contemporary music, drawing upon the traditions of Kentucky and Laurel Canyon to create something gentle, pretty, and substantive, something that is as enchanting as it was the first time around.

A haunting debut, Communion finds Rabit living up to his potential in stark, beautifully ugly and angry ways.

Sonically, Manhattan is one of Lewis' clearest, best-recorded and arranged albums to date, with masses of swirling, atmospheric sounds augmenting the more detailed tracks (the sounds of crowded New York City streets and subways seep into some of the songs).

Wolf Eyes are more than just another noise project, their world-view is intact, and I Am a Problem: Mind in Pieces is strong meat for those willing to take a healthy bite.

By the end of the album, as the waltzing piano ballad "Oh! Starving" fades, it's impossible not to be knocked out by what has come before and be super stoked for what might come next.

South Broadway Athletic Club seems like a typical Bottle Rockets album on the surface, but dig a bit deeper and you'll find a set of songs as strong and emotionally powerful as anything this band has delivered since 24 Hours a Day.

As a thematic mood piece, Panhandle Rambler hits its mark squarely, and the songs themselves are of the consistent high quality listeners have come to expect from Ely who, for reasons unknown, still seems to be one of Texas' more underappreciated exports.

With his steady touring lineup of guitarist/keyboardist James Doviak, bass player Iwan Gronow (the Mutineers, Haven), and drummer Jack Mitchell (Haven, Bad Lieutenant), he showcases his rhythmic, textured guitar playing and reinforces the fact that he's not a bad vocalist, either.

If Hi Honey is a resurrection, think of it as a rowdy revival tent: they're preaching the gospel of good old rock & roll sleaze and boogie, sounds that are always infectious when they sound as good as this.

Balancing transparency and grit with a knowing sense of proportion, Long Lost Suitcase, like the two albums that preceded it, demonstrates Jones' enduring strength as a singer as well as a powerful late-career desire to make music that matters to himself, and it's a powerful and welcome effort from one of pop's most powerful vocalists.

Sometimes troubling, frequently joyous, and always articulate and thoroughly individual, Son Little's cross-genre shape-shifting reveals more compelling nuances with each listen, and this is one of the most interesting and rewarding debuts of 2015.

An already bright field of songs that have been treated with the utmost care and concern, which is a testament to both MacColl's great body of work and the musicians who were affected by it.

Manual elevates more often than it wallows, and most importantly, it never fails to surprise or entertain.

Even with its banjo, organ, and sitar adornments, Dream All Over has a wide-open, arid feeling to it as if the band broke down in the crusts of the Mojave en route to their final destination. It also has the distinction of featuring some of Gun Outfit's loosest performances, while also being their most focused record.

As personal and inward-gazing as Ryder-Jones' songs are, he imbues them with a weary comfort, inviting listeners along rather than detaching himself, and if making fine albums like West Kirby County Primary is his form of therapy, he's bound for success.

It's Great to Be Alive! is a bit less than the definitive document of the live DBT experience, but if you want to know why this is a great band and how good it can be on-stage, this set will tell you just about everything you need to know.

The word "empty" aptly describes how this album feels, and that could potentially alienate listeners, but it captures the (absence of) feeling dead-on, and it contains some of his most compelling productions yet.

There's so much good chemistry and a sense of purpose on Bad Neighbor that it's easy to see why this crew reunited, and while this is a loose posse effort and not the artistically weighty material fans usually get from the members individually, both MED and Blu's discographies get one their tightest releases to date.

It's another batch of nuanced, quietly intense songs that have some degree of heartache to them.

Ultimately, it's the unexpectedly appealing combination of Goulding's distinctive voice and the melismatic R&B bent of the songs on Delirium that makes for such an ecstatic listen.

It's another dense, thrilling journey into the daunting catalog of the most intergalactic musician of all time.

If Thomas set out to prove that Rocket from the Tombs is his idea and he can reassemble the components at will and still make it work, Black Record does just that, and suggests this project has a livelier future than most anyone would have imagined.

Claire Boucher's fourth album is wilder, more ambitious, and--at least on the surface--more accessible than her breakthrough

This is not just a nostalgic look back at a classic album, but Merchant fully inhabiting the material in the present tense. The depth in these recordings makes it a welcome companion to Tigerlily.

As dense as R Plus Seven was cleanly sculpted, there's a lot to unpack within Garden of Delete, including its title: a phrase that suggests the meticulous task of editing music as well as the union of creation and destruction (and shortens to G.O.D.), it's the perfect mission statement for an album that combines past and present in surprising, and surprisingly organic ways.

Vertigo is more expansive than Open--even with its humid, uneasy sense of musical claustrophobia. It's no less engaging for its dissonance and tension. This is possible because The Necks understand how to instinctively balance sonic seduction with limitless exploration.

Nothing on Aquaria seems out of place, but each song brings something new to the party.

While the collection doesn't come with the purposeful feel of Donuts, it flows extremely well for a beat tape, and one released nine years after the artist passed.

His pleasantly cracked voice is supported by plenty of rich harmonies and the mellow organ and guitar tones give the record an inviting, organic feel.

While he's inexplicably fond of a synthesized choral effect, for the most part this album sounds clear but homebrewed at the same time, with charm making less of a sacrifice on fidelity.

Numerous proven mixtapes help set Ty up for an easier introduction than most, but Free TC tops all expectations, as the man conquers the club, the bedroom, and the brain with this end-to-end stunner.

While First Comes the Night doesn't break any new stylistic ground for Isaak, it also doesn't hurt his reputation, and deftly reinforces his image as a glamorous, charming torchbearer for traditional pop songcraft.

Most recordings of lullabies are long on charm and short on substance, but the Wainwright Sisters have made an album that will suit a thoughtful mom or dad as much as a restless youngster, and Songs in the Dark is something special from two remarkable talents.

All in all another strong outing from the Newcastle band, it dwells in a cloudy blend of dreams and creeping nightmares, unsettling yet captivating.

As a composer, singer, and sound sculptor, Hausswolff is in full control on The Miraculous, balancing harshness and intimacy, heaviness and airy melancholy. It's an uncompromising view, but it's also welcoming.

Combined with schizophrenic production (Evian Christ, Boody, Balam Acab, Lunice) that leaps from horny trap to frantic electroclash, Riot Boi overwhelms with twists, turns, and surprises, all of which are exhilarating.

Going by the level of potential shown here, it's evident that Cara will eventually need a lot less creative assistance.

The rest of the album shows a knack for songcraft and dramatic arrangement that could only have come from learning from the past and forming it in her own very specific way.

The joy TRAAMS have in pulling their songs taut and then letting them fly--an approach that shines particularly brightly on "Bite Mark"--is more palpable than ever on Modern Dancing, and the fun is infectious.

Mutant may be some of his most challenging work yet, but as Arca's music becomes more abstract, the viewpoint behind it comes into focus in ways that embrace strangeness, ugliness, and beauty equally.

This is the album where it all changed, as the one they call Young Sinatra comes into his own and proves his nearly perfect debut was no isolated fluke.

With only a few guest shots, plus a long track list, newcomers might find this big LP a tough go. Regardless, the ambitious Church in These Streets stands with the man's great Thug Motivation 101 while beating that album on artistic merit and meaningful lyrics.

Check the great "Extradite" ("Man, I stay on point like icicles") for instant gratification or "Basketball Wives" for an abstract take on the Miguel-flavored bedroom number, then appreciate how this album goes 17 tracks deep and never runs out of inspiration or ideas.

There are plenty of bands doing roughly the same thing as Ringo Deathstarr, but there are few who do it as well as they do. Pure Mood is proof of that.

While it would be unfair to call Dark Sky Island a throwback, it does manage to harness some of the power and creativity of Enya's early days and pairs it with both the confidence and shadows of age.

Though these songs were released over the course of 18 months, Product holds together remarkably well as it captures SOPHIE's instantly addictive, ever-evolving reimagining of pop music.

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

On Kannon, Sunn O))) illustrates through heavy sonic immersion that noise and silence are equals--aspects of circular, self-perpetuating emptiness. Like the persona of the deity, they generously receive and contain all the sounds of the world in all their dimensions of darkness and light.

Credit him and songwriting partners Daryl Simmons and Kameron Glasper, along with hall of fame-level session musicians like Nathan East and Greg Phillinganes, for ignoring the increasingly narrow sound of commercial R&B. They've done so with a satisfying album that sounds as if its organic making necessitated little exertion.

Everything flows naturally, and that ease is so alluring upon the first spin of Traveller that it's not until repeated visits that the depth of the album becomes apparent.

This rough, honest, and ambitious work is like his Raging Bull, taking the listener on a compelling, dirty journey that's also a connectable character study.

A top-notch Lil Wayne appearance plus an unofficial Lox reunion with Styles P and Sheek Louch guesting on the LP help put this one through the uprights, giving veteran Jada one of his best and most ambitious showcases to date.

Though not as "experimental" as their previous couple of records, as a whole Purple is far more focused, and it's certainly more euphoric.

Bowie's joy in emphasizing the art in art-pop is palpable and its elegant, unhurried march resonates deeply.

There aren't many surprises here for fans, save for the fact that he manages to spin the same nocturnal stories of drugs, partying, and fornicating over 17 addictive tracks without it ever growing stale.

We Are Nots may not be the last word in the phantom subgenre of weird punk, but if you want to know how to make your punk weird in the right way, you would be well advised to give Nots your attention.

City Lake is a more physical offering [than Tomorrow Was the Golden Age], but no less beautiful.

The nine pieces on the album are tense and brooding in a way unheard on her previous solo recordings, occasionally peaking in thundering bursts of fury.

The resulting combos that populate these 15 tracks range from inspired to pleasantly odd, and Wells gets points for simply making situations like this album exist. His knack for conveying mischievousness and warmth are in full effect here, with some songs falling squarely on one side or the other but more often than not aligning in combined magic.

It captures the best aspects of their past, while sounding like dream pop perfection in the present and promising more good things for the future.

The album just doesn't flow as well as his monolithic 2013 effort My Name Is My Name, but as a mere "prelude" to the next LP, it's miles above "throwaway" and comes with the quality control that would put it in the top tiers of both the mixtape and street release formats.

Seemingly out of nowhere (but actually taking three years to materialize), Bratten has crafted a spectacular, surprisingly confessional album of bone-chilling electronic music suggesting that his previous releases barely hinted at his prodigious talents as a composer and arranger.

While fans may have to make a slight adjustment to their expectations, it's a minor one, and most will likely find the results refreshing.

A heady, yet accessible amalgam of Burt Bacharach, Scott Walker, Antony and the Johnsons, and Neil Hannon's least flouncy Divine Comedy offerings, The Most Important Place in the World feels like a musical theater piece and listens like a good book (the evocative closer "We're Still Here" suggests a Glaswegian Canterbury Tales), and its dark charms are as seductive as they are thick with exhaust.