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.

Silver Bullets fits together as a whole and doesn't need a pop hit, heavenly or otherwise, to be interesting or worthwhile. It's enough that The Chills are back and just as good as they were when they left off.

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).

Its base is the four original songs the band self-released on singles during 2013 and 2014, and each one is represented here, with the references to specific disco and post-disco artists and bygone production touches less obvious, a little more concealed than they are on the 2011 album.

Peppered with swears and PG-13 imagery, not all of Return to the Moon is radio-friendly, but it is ear-friendly, even at its most earnest or wry.

The brass in question swells and sways capably throughout, but ultimately feels like window-dressing, never fully delivering the arm hair-raising crescendo that one would expect from an army of cornets, trombones, and euphoniums, though this is mostly the fault of the source material, which ultimately lacks the structural boldness with which to support such finery.

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

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.

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.

This is surf music for street goths and beach bums with bad attitudes.

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.

If the Yawpers are trying to make sense of the soul of America in the 21st century, their mind/body balance makes for some powerfully satisfying music, and American Man is an impressive debut from a band that appears to have some very serious potential.

A few of the songs sound a lot like one another, and, like any rock & roll, The Things We Do can come off as risible to the rational heart and sensible head, but for the uncertain and, to refer to the Replacements, unsatisfied, the album is potentially relatable and potently cathartic.

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.

If you're looking for something cool and groovin' to put under your tree or to slap on the stereo while you and your friends knock back some eggnog, It's a Holiday Soul Party is a hip, stylish, and rollicking good time.

c rhymes. Best experienced end to end, Evermore: The Art of Duality is a dense journey worth taking, but one decidedly filled with more questions and ideas than answers.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

On Mythologies, Cheatahs expand on the surreal, otherworldly aspects of their sound, and seem to take abundant pleasure in wringing sweetness out of caustic, discordant noises.

All this flair is a welcome reminder that, for all his vaunted blues purism, Gibbons remains something of a futurist, happily blurring the lines between the present and past along with obliterating the lines between cultures.

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.

Be Small is loaded with simply good, interesting songs.

Mild High Club doesn't try too hard and avoids indulging in cloying weirdness, resulting in an enjoyable, naturally flowing album.

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

Beautifully captured on tape with the mix of spontaneity and professionalism expected from a Rawlings/Welch performance, Nashville Obsolete has something of a brooding grandeur to it.

A little bit of restraint goes a long way for Keep Shelly in Athens, as their second album retains the creative spirit that made their early EPs so intriguing without succumbing to the dramatic, overbearing impulses that bogged down their first album.

It feels true to who he is today: an entertainer who is happy to reveal part of his heart because he now knows there's an audience who cares.

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

Whereas The Light the Dead See was a simple addition of Gahan's lyrics to the Soulsavers' music, this is a fully cohesive collaboration, with both artists sharing songwriting credits on all songs.

They may not be the kind of band to curl up with on a rainy night anymore, but they make the leap to a poppier, more expansive sound with stylish grace and keep just enough of the mystery intact to stay interesting.

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.

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.

The production on II is cleaner than on Fuzz's first studio album without ironing out the nooks and crannies of the band's sound (the report of Moothart and Ubovich's amps is just as fierce and buzzy as ever), and listeners who resonate to Iommic frequencies will get a righteous shake from this music.

Not quite as catchy or harmony-rich as a few of their earliest songs, some of Little May's early adopters may be a little bummed out by the material, but many will find it hits a sweet spot between the heart and head in which to snugly settle.

For better or worse, that same sense of déjà vu pervades much of Sounds Good Feels Good, with the band borrowing liberally from its influences.

Overall, the release is a surreal, unpredictable excursion, and it finds the duo continuing to venture further outside the styles of their main projects, tapping into their subconscious minds in order to create striking dreamscapes.

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

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.

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.

He's a singer that can make quiet seem compelling, and there are plenty of instances in this tight, wholly satisfying record where he demands attention by not asking for it.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

At just under 30 minutes, it feels like a bit of a lark, but its brevity actually works in its favor, as an extended set of Haines' sneering incantations and electronic skullduggery would likely require a certain amount of intestinal fortitude.

It sounds street smart and thoughtful as it acknowledges past glories and the slowly narrowing road that lies ahead.

Sermon on the Rocks is an album where Josh Ritter allows himself to have some fun while showing that his skills as a songwriter have emerged unscathed after his divorce, and it suggests that his future is as bright as ever.

Even though Tape Loops feels cold and wintry and with a hint of melancholy or regret, it's still a soothing, reflective, refreshing listen.

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

It's an album of longing and disquiet. To call any of the songs wistful seems inadequate; they are engulfed in saudade.

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 Color Before the Sun is not the band's best record, but it is utterly inspired and almost nakedly sincere. It will likely play well to fans, but even more importantly, perhaps attract new ones.

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

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

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.

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.

The songs that pull in the attention are the lumbering riff-rockers, the ones that open the album and set a muscular, nostalgic tone that, if you're of a certain disposition, is pretty hard to resist.

These are candy-coated rhythmic noise pop songs, and they're astounding.

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.

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.

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

Another spectacular audio document of an enormously creative period for underground music.

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.

The main difference here is the overall feeling of buoyancy, as Hutchcraft and Anderson apply their top-shelf pop songcraft to a decidedly more energized and euphoric collection of tunes than we’ve heard from them in the past.

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.

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

It makes for a solid pop album overall, but it's a little too formulaic and predictable to rate among her best work.

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.

Keith went back to the tried and true, crafting songs that fall within his wheelhouse. At the edges, there are some signs of either experimentation or, perhaps, desperation.

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.

The 21st century version of the Zombies are, not unexpectedly, a band with a different sound and feel than the '60s cult heroes, but Still Got That Hunger reminds us Rod Argent and Colin Blunstone still have the talent that made their names, and there are enough moments here where it shines through that fans will want to give this a thorough listen.

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.

The Agent Intellect is an album that challenges both the mind and the body; if you're looking for further confirmation that Protomartyr are one of the smartest and toughest bands of their day, this album is what you need.

Despite its experimental elements and trippy sensibility, Beach Music is relentlessly intimate, moving, and hard to shake--a notable trait for a young if experienced recording artist.

Shopping make listeners lean in and pay close attention, proving along the way that they don't have to choose between tradition and growth to make a strong second album.

This sophomore release named after his hometown's zip code is raw and ready to fight, including taking down all the industry folk who helped hold up this second LP.

What a Time to Be Alive is also a worthy hang session from MCs Drake and Future, one that feels instant, spontaneous, and just messy enough to keep off the top shelf.

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.

Beck isn't so much interested in resurrecting specific songs from his career as he is in revisiting particular styles and moods

The duo's work here complements what they've done beside Chrisette Michele, Alicia Keys, Tamia, and especially Elle Varner.

Uncovered feels slightly spare and quiet in comparison [to 1994's Cover Girl]--there are no productions as bright and full as that on "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic"--but it follows the same basic formula as that album, with Colvin finding the quiet, intimate heart lying in each of these songs.

Fans need not worry; colorful, variously world music-infused, psychedelic, and ultra-rhythmic, I Need New Eyes retains Larry Gus' somewhat warped artfulness, and the relatively more coherent presentation may attract at least a few more willing ears.

The pleasing, alive, and diverse Stories is a fine reason to think of Avicii as a producer of attractive music, with EDM, pop, and all other genres on a sliding scale.

For Kylesa, Exhausting Fire marks not only a giant step on their ever evolving journey (one that effortlessly looks forward and back simultaneously), but is also the bedrock of an idiosyncratic, clearly demarcated sonic terrain no other band can claim.

On Women's Rights they also show they can crank out some lean, tuneful punk rock, and this album is a smart, unpretentious good time on any number of levels.

As an artistic statement about warmth vs. transparency, Ashin has hit his mark with an album that is as beautiful as it is uncomfortable.

If it's not the group's finest work, it has a genuine emotional purity and reaffirms Born Ruffians' place on the Canadian indie rock scene.

Not many bands are able to rekindle their fire when the flame goes out as drastically as in Wavves' case. V shows that they're one of the few to pull it off, and they even sound better than ever.

In the end, there's something amusingly kooky and undeniably likable about a band that can evoke both the acid house, Rolling Stones spirituality of a band like Primal Scream just as it can, perhaps unintentionally, summon the ghost of early-'90s Duran Duran.

This is an album of highly compositional, slow-burn epics that build with Kubrick-ian intensity and attention to detail.

As The Light in You's title implies, Mercury Rev are seeking life's brightest moments, and they find them--along with some of their most satisfying music in many years.

As "The Reverend" closes things with another shot of the band at its finest, it underscores that even an inconsistent Eagles of Death Metal album is still a lot of fun.

While the album is unrelentingly positive and clean-cut--a relief for listeners who winced at the lurid content laced through Discipline and certain earlier points in the discography--it's a little erratic in style and quality.