Take It Like a Man isn't White's best album, but it does give him a chance to take a musical detour, and with the Packway Handle Band at his side, this turns out to be a thoroughly enjoyable side trip that suits him well.

For the casual listener, his music may be a bit heady and hard to follow, but for fans willing to be challenged, Roberts has delivered yet another excellent release.

By incorporating these offhand allusions to the past while being firmly planted in a mature present, Modern Nature showcases a band whose members are aware of where they've been and grateful for what they have.

The album works best as moody sonic wallpaper that's very pretty and soothing. Maybe next time out, the trio will work more on getting deeper and delivering more emotion, but for now this well-crafted, easy to swallow debut works well enough.

Although essentially a radio-ready pop aperitif and nowhere near the cultural touchstone of Beyonce's album, Reflection nonetheless works as a Revlon ad-level post-feminist girls' night out with plenty of vintage '90s R&B swagger.

The polished finish on the production, from Fuck Buttons member Andrew Hung, is also notable on this great effort from Zun Zun Egui, an album conducive to many repeat listens.

It may bear the mark of Venom, but it lacks the heart-stopping toxicity of its inception.

Non-Fiction nonetheless contains more standouts than any Ne-Yo album since Because of You.

His 2006 debut may still be the one to pick, since it's leaner and more instant, but Tetsuo & Youth strolls its way into greatness after a couple listens and wipes out all the bitter aftertaste of Lasers as if that misstep never happened.

Hales' acumen for production is on full display here, as 10 Futures is a marvel of meticulous engineering, and while the material doesn't always live up to the sonic grandstanding, it never suffers because of it.

Her eye for telling romantic details and gift for gorgeous, lilting melodies mean this debut sinks its hooks in deep and soon seems to belong alongside the classics it so plainly resembles.

I Sell the Circus is the debut album from Ricked Wicky, the latest in a long line of projects from Pollard, which finds him in a straightforward rockin' mood while also indulging his fondness for classic hard rock and progressive influences.

Depersonalisation transforms their potential into a beautifully bummed-out fever dream of a debut.

Vast yet intimate, in some ways Sauna is the most like the Microphones album that gave Mount Eerie its name in the first place.

Their second album, Further Out, finds them honing the rough ideas that were forming on their 2013 debut, Infinity.

Big Dark Love may not make you feel good about the emotion that has driven pop music since the dawn of Tin Pan Alley, but Murder by Death bring a perspective that's honest and heartfelt, and it's a reminder why this group is still one of the most powerful Hoosier acts around.

Whether or not Hyperview resonates with Title Fight's existing fan base, it was the right album for them to make.

In short, another first-rate album from a group that keep adding new facets without ignoring their past.

As he leaps from one thrill to the next, he evokes his past without rehashing it, delivering a complete and immensely satisfying portrait of his music along the way.

By singing these songs as sweet and straight as the dusty old standards on Glad Rag Doll or the bossa nova on 2009's Quiet Nights, she demonstrates how enduring these once-dismissed soft rock tunes really are.

Afraid of Ghosts isn't as immediate as some of his other records, but it will suit the needs of anybody craving a record that sounds like Ryan Adams used to make them back in the day.

The fact that the feel is so richly idiosyncratic is a testament to just how well he knows these tunes, and these slow, winding arrangements are why Shadows in the Night feels unexpectedly resonant: it's a testament to how deeply Dylan sees himself in these old songs.

As with the other Fiepblatter releases, Miscontinuum Album may not be for more casual fans of St. Werner's work, but those willing to dive into the sounds and ideas he leaves on the fringes of his more widely released music should enjoy this journey.

This is a rich, deceptively relaxed portrait of working-class life in America in 2014 and it will linger for some time to come.

Often known for blending icy minimalism with textural electronics, Jóhannsson's work here is far more sentimental, telling the story of Hawking's humanity rather than his science.

It will be interesting to hear where Miller and his Howlin' Rain project take the rest of this trilogy, but Mansion Songs stands on its own as a portrait of Miller's considerable musical and poetic growth over the last nine years.

On The Deepest Lake, they deliver music that's thoughtful, imaginative, and sensuous in all the best ways, and this album is a joy for listeners with a taste for sonic adventure.

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.

While every song is undeniably weird and sometimes crowded to the point of confusion, Schuster-Craig never loses the plot, exerting complete control over a set of tunes almost as delightfully catchy as they are perplexing.

This stuff can't touch Adrian Younge's Venice Dawn project, which released the dynamite Something About April in 2011, but it has its own charm.

This trio pulls off a chosen weave of hybrid roots sounds with seeming ease, passion, and verve. No one else performing Americana or crossover country music attempts anything like it, leaving the trio in its own class.

The crushing intensity on this collection is commonplace for both bands, but comes together with more swampy layers than either can muster on their own.

The coming-of-age and kinetic SremmLife reminds listeners that jumping into "poppa's chair" was a thrilling mix of pride and new opportunities, plus, the album doubles as a guaranteed party soundtrack.

Striking a balance between hypnotic pop and cloudy soul-searching, the album delivers all the ends of the spectrum Lennox has spent years perfecting, giving fully realized and refreshingly jubilant examples of a type of pop music so distinctive to its creator, he ends up in a class by himself.

Vulnicura honors her pain and the necessary path through and away from loss with some of her bravest, most challenging, and most engaging music.

They do what they do quite well and this cohesive debut should win them plenty of fans.

Easily the most joyful and extroverted of Lipstate's albums at this point, it also feels the most vibrant and engaging, gracefully exposing a world of endless blissful layers for the audience to stargaze upon.

Ultimately, Young Ejecta play with intimacy and distance, loss and rebirth in such compelling ways on The Planet that it feels more like an introduction than a continuation.

There are a lot of bands working this angle in the early 2010s; Pinkshinyultrablast is one of the best, and their debut album shows exactly why.

Altogether, the material is mature, technically proficient as ever, lively, and sounds rough and real; it’s hard to imagine Individ won’t be a hit with fans, intermittent or long-standing.

Still buried neck deep in love for Flying Nun, still snappy and poppy, but just a little bit weirder, a little more powerful musically and emotionally, and a little more satisfying for the incremental change.

Completely unrelenting; thoroughly amazing.

Ultimately, it's just this kind of self-flagellating, dark-hued rock aesthetic that's worked for Papa Roach for well over a decade, and despite whatever passing styles or trends in pop music they've ignored in the process, it's a sound that seems to be working for them.

This is the kind of subtle record unlikely to make immediate waves, but with a staying power that will call for repeated listens.

The Punch Brothers sound as comfortable nimbly skipping through classical pieces as they do creating oddly shaped bluegrass-prog--and as they do creating sparkling pop miniatures like "Magnet" and "Between 1st and A." By both capturing and fusing these two sides, The Phosphorescent Blues stands as a defining record for an admittedly restless band.

Matador may initially seduce with its slow, enveloping assurance but the reason it lasts are those songs, as exquisitely crafted and enduring as anything in Coombes' rich catalog.

As a companion album or on its own two legs, Fears Trending was worth another trip to well.

Though the album loses a little focus after its near-flawless first half, Shake Shook Shaken is the Dø's finest work yet and a pointed and poignant document of change and its aftermath.

The results are more intriguing than a mere collection of odds 'n' sods or remixes.

Without many spikes in volume or energy level, these murmuring songs generate an undeniably powerful radiance, breaking down doors creatively despite their understated trappings.

Runners in the Nerved World is a step forward on the path toward a new approach that was clearly the Sidekicks' new focus on Awkward Breeds, and if this band doesn't rock as hard, they sound intent and committed on these songs, and this is the work of musicians who know where they're going and what they intend to find.

My Garden is a mix of colorful party anthems and substantive, pull-no-punches ballads with warmth beneath the surface.

Even if Alkan's association may suggest something more banging, this debut is perfect for overcast afternoon sessions or anytime the head is melancholy while the feet crave movement.

Neatly tied together by opening and closing cuts that include Stevie Wonder on harmonica, because Ronson could swing it, Uptown Special is another nostalgic fantasy that provides light entertainment and provokes backtracking.

G Stands for Go-Betweens is a labor of love, carefully put together by Forster with obvious affection, and essential for any fan of the band, especially those who treasure their tumultuous formative years over their more full-formed, yet still quite tumultuous, later period.

How to Die in the North is an undeniably tasty dish, served hot or cold.

The album might scare off some fans who were reeled in by his perky pop songs, but it might find a home with those who like their pop seriously murky and gray.

Like most of the delightfully bleak Nervous, it's both dense and impossibly airy, like a storm cloud about to blow.

In its own way, Inherent Vice is as subtly and carefully crafted as Greenwood's other scores for Anderson's films, but its wit and heart make it special in its own right.

Moonlight is a step in the right direction, though, and it's nice to hear him stretch out creatively.

Viet Cong were a group full of promise on their debut EP, Cassette, and with their harder, heavier, and more powerful debut album, they're making it clear they have the talent and smarts to become a major force in Canada's indie community.

Irreal's minimalism is an uncompromising and often riveting testament to Disappears' integrity, which seems to be the only constant in their music.

Taking their sound in a new, unforeseen bluesy direction accomplishes the near impossible by making Marilyn Manson sound even more sinister than before.

Fall Out Boy have taken great efforts to incorporate whatever was happening on the charts, an inclination that isn't quite as necessary in the great digital disassociation of the 2010s, yet this inclination does give American Beauty/American Psycho a bit of a kinetic kick. It also gives it a slight air of desperation.

This is very clearly the Decemberists, but with a new kind of focus in their songs and arrangements that makes it clear this album's sound is a result of creative evolution, not an offering to their newer, larger audience, and it's a sweet and sour wonder that rewards repeated listening.

This is the sound of a band that's growing fearless in middle age, and while the record occasionally does drag--all those long songs push it over an hour, but the sequencing makes it feel even longer--there's also a thrill hearing a band unafraid to stumble.

The first and lasting impression of No Cities to Love is one of joy, a joy that emanates from a group who realized the purpose and pleasure of being in a band during their extended absence.

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.

Kudos to the group for deciding to do a little remodeling, but it might behoove them to keep the original floor plans, as the current arrangement feels a little out of character.

California X have a way to go as songwriters, but Nights in the Dark shows they're maturing into a top-flight heavy indie band, and if you want to hear a group that know how to make their guitars signify, this may be just what you've been looking for.

By maintaining a more or less accessible alt-pop center, Mangan and company have given themselves free reign to fill in the edges with whatever they see fit, which they do with gusto throughout Club Meds' perfectly acceptable 45-minute runtime, which is something that only happens when a band, not an individual, is firing on all cylinders.

All in all, Slurrup is a smile-inducing reminder that it's too easy to pigeonhole him as just a master craftsman--and that Hayes' pop is arguably even more potent when it's not quite as elaborate.

Altogether, the contributions of long-term Sullivan associates like Harmony, Salaam Remi, and Ant Bell, along with those from Key Wane and JoeLogic & Dilemma, give the album a relatively contemporary feel. Just as potent and lasting as Fearless and Love Me Back, Reality Show completes one of the most impressive first-three-album runs.

Like Earle's best work, Absent Fathers is low on flash and high on emotional honesty and perceptive songwriting, and paired with Single Mothers this is some of his most intelligent and moving music to date.

Far from consigning her to one-hit wonder territory, the blend of strength of personality and music-biz savvy on Title shows that Meghan Trainor is clever enough to parlay a big hit into a real career.

[Chad Kroeger's] shifting his band away from its antiquated post-grunge into a sound that is self-consciously fresher and mature. It's not only a commercially canny move, it generates the best Nickelback record to date.

The issues raised on Bitter Tears are still relevant, and Look Again to the Wind reminds us that art can still speak eloquently about the best and worst parts of the human condition, and it's well worth investigating.

Clunkers aside, Magic Mountain comes closer than any previous offering in providing the kind of excitement Black Stone Cherry generate live, and showcases their most refined songwriting to date.

With There's a Blue Bird in My Heart, Parker circles to embrace his electric guitar and crafty songwriting again with excellent results.

Luke Winslow-King may sound like a gentleman on Everlasting Arms, but one listen to this album will convince you that when it comes to music, nice guys really can finish first.

The societal ruminations within the fiery judder of "1000 Deaths," the dreamy churn of "The Charade," and the falsetto blues of "Till It's Done," fueled as much by current planetary ills and race relations as the same ones that prompted the works of D'Angelo's heroes, strike the deepest.

By Shonen Knife's standards, Overdrive does sound like some sort of hard rock album, and the attempts to make like Kiss, Thin Lizzy, or Deep Purple come off better than one might expect, though Yamano's guitar skills are less impressive than those of the average metal axe slinger.

Beneath their poppier melodies and anthemic choruses underlies the D.I.Y. garage-rock ethic that inspired their quick ascent, and it's this mixture that places them firmly between the pop charts and dingy rock club basements.

There's a wan, vaguely Everyman lyricism at work here as well, which makes some of the slower numbers a bit of a chore, but when the band lets it rip, as in the case of top-down, desert road jams like "Hey I Don't Know," "It's a Good Life," and the aforementioned "Come with Me," Lunatic earns the shifty weight of its unhinged moniker.

As this train barrels on, there's the sense that the record never really started and will never really end, but such full-throttle indulgence may indeed be what some fans want, for there is a whole lot of bang for this buck.

Ixora (the name comes from a type of flowering plant common in Florida) finds Copeland embracing a more mature subject matter than they did on their early albums (as befits men in their mid-thirties), but with the same moody and thoughtful musical approach that marked their best-known work.

Ot overall the compilation, with all its good intentions, pales in comparison to the originals and will only strengthen the urge to hear Russell's wonderful songs again after listening to this well-meaning but flawed collection.

By the time Wheeler reaches a place of acceptance, the listener has as well, and while both parties may be a bit ragged, they're both better for the experience.

Shame he's keeping a twice-a-decade pace, but this album should stick to the bones for twice that long, likely longer.

Brooks doesn't try to do anything differently; he just picks up where he left off and the time away has only made it clearer how he's different from all that came before and all that came since.

While it might be counterproductive if Field Report were to shrink past a quartet, the streamlined approach of Marigolden is a superb example of how less can truly be more.

Homeboy Sandman's biggest attractor is still his pride, a quality that's even more up-front as his career matures. Hallways beams with it, making it one of those rare rap records where true talk meets the warm fuzzies, or the warm motherfuzzies, as it were.

These complicated combinations of sounds and feelings suggest that Reznor and Ross are nearly as skilled at emotional manipulation as the film's characters, and Gone Girl's ambiguity and dread make it their most haunting work yet.

The series is still going strong with Punk Goes Pop, Vol. 6.

This set is a major go; it extends the qualitative trajectory of The Blackening and Unto the Locust.

The majority of the workmanlike Between the Stars, deftly juggles the muscular and the melodic without breaking a sweat in the process.

Texturally, there's not much of a surprise but The Dream Walker does have its own distinct momentum.

Sounding both effortless and intricately composed at once, PRhyme is an instant classic, and one that sounds better and better as repeated listenings reveal more of the details hiding behind the album's deceptively straightforward approach.