Disconsolate, intricately produced, and surprisingly varied, all things considered, The Well I Fell Into should appeal to sympathetic fans as well as the less-folky sad-song set.

While the results follow the melodic template that Phillips has made his own since his work with Grant Lee Buffalo, listening to Strangelet confirms the man sounds as good as ever and remains plenty imaginative.

The album flows by with the scrapbooked flair of an intricately constructed sound collage, but one whose loose ends and experimental moments are firmly rooted in Krautpop rhythms.

Buffalo Tom are still firmly in control of what was best and most important in their music, and Quiet and Peace is a fine reminder of why they mattered then, and why they matter now.

OH (Ohio) is a singular accomplishment, and it's hard to imagine anyone but Lambchop doing this so well--or even imagining it at all.

Thrice Woven marks the welcome return of the power and dark majesty of one America's most original metal bands.

The way that Mystics bounces back and forth between its ethereal and zany moments gives it a disjointed, uneven feel that makes the album a shade less satisfying than either Yoshimi or Soft Bulletin.

The best thing the album does is to showcase Adele's titanic vocal ability, which -- more than a few times on 21 -- is simply spine-tingling.

Wild Peace is a largely subdued affair, but there's so much happening just below the surface of the music that it's easy to miss some of the album's buried brilliance while you're distracted by its glimmering melodies.

The EP is a startling introduction to a group unafraid to bring raging paranoia to the dancefloor.

The man is full of contradictions and lyrics that demand deciphering, so Str8 Killa becomes an excellent entry point, maybe by default and maybe by design. Either way, it's a necessary purchase for gangsta rap fans and a gateway drug that will send you straight to the mixtape underground.

As on any good Beck record, Compass finds time for everything from R&B to hard rock to the type of gut-bucket experimental rock that Tom Waits would be proud of. The big difference is in the vocal performances. It's clear that Lidell is wearing his heart on his sleeve here, and we see a portrait of a person, not a personality.

Despite some missteps, like an attempt at rapping on "Bitter Bug" or a slight lapse into new age on "Symmetry," there are a handful of songs that redeem the ambling nature of the album.

These 11 Short Stories of Pain & Glory are deliberate in their intent--uplifting numbers for swaying shoulder-to-shoulder with friends before emptying out of the bars onto the dark concrete of Lansdowne on a Friday (or Wednesday) night.

Deschanel's songs are simple and sad tales of heartbreak and missed connections, with hooky melodies and not a single artless moment to be found.

Dead Man's Bones isn't perfect, but it's often fascinating and nearly always charming--and Shields and Gosling wouldn't have it any other way.

There is a wide range of ideas at work on Home of the Strange, which makes for a satisfying, engaging listen.

Machine Messiah is an ambitious, angry, hungry outing. Sepultura remain vital in their creativity; they expand their palette dramatically while fully integrating the sounds that brought them here.

Easily surpassing a thematic exercise, 2019 has some essential original material by Dacus -- particularly "My Mother & I" -- and a handful of covers that are bound to provide a lasting preferred version (or two) for fans.

One Deep River doesn't necessarily break new ground for Knopfler, but it does add a clutch of well-written, impeccably played songs to his canon.

It may never fly in the conservatory, but the music of Clogs is sure to make the bar set feel a little more cultured.

Taken as pieces or as a whole, the album is easily the equal of anything their contemporaries have released and an exhilaratingly chilled-out listen from start to finish that will warm up even the longest winter night.

For her eighth studio album, Home, before and after, she animates ten unpredictable tracks with a combination of elegant piano accompaniment, overtly playful pop, and a return to dramatic symphonic fare, often within the same song.

Despite the ever-present irony, the songs never feel insincere and the record is inherently strong throughout, making it a solid start to their career.

Scuttling percussion, noodling electric pianos, and rubbery basslines remain suited for Bronson's nasal, humor-laced self-praise and subtle jabs at himself, whether he's boasting about his swimmer's body and celebrity chef friends, lamenting his inability to dunk, or proclaiming "Your shit lack quality/I'm sittin' right behind my chick makin' pottery."

Everything on these two discs fits into the theme and flow.

This music declares that Clark is one artist who will see to it that the blues does indeed have a future, which is what makes him important and Sonny Boy Slim a serious leap forward from Blak and Blu.

In other words, this is another Thom Yorke solo album, and it sounds really nice on decent headphones.

With Intoxication, Shaggy has once again found that perfect balance of slick and streetwise, and added career-defining single number three as the cherry on top.

They deliver thrilling song after thrilling song that'll have you hyping them to all your rock & roll friends as soon the album stops spinning.

Schrader and Rice apply their take on it [minimalism as art] brilliantly throughout Jazz Mind, via a different set of goals and reference points.

Metheny and [sax player, Chris] Potter are free to sprint and they do; both dazzle with their lyric invention and knotty, imaginative, nearly boppish solos. The two front-line players are surely at their best in one another's company.

When you strip back the eccentric arrangements and lush production, Watkins can still deliver.

The very hooky, liltingly pretty "Nothing Lasts" shows that Echo Lake would be pretty great if they dropped all the aspirations of epicness and just made simple little pop songs instead. They do reach for the stars on Era, however, and they end up shining just like the brightest of them.

A smart young band in an increasingly dumbed-down world, Big Ups may have found their voice in the past, but they're clearly swinging for a brighter future.

Nothing bores and the album moves through its track list with a purposeful flow, and while electro-trap fiends and "Harlem Shake" lovers may be thrown by all the artful noise, Aa still rocks the house, as Baauer evolves from meme generator to master craftsman.

A Cure for Loneliness is solid Wolf.

While it may draw its share of eye rolls, for those who play along, it's a triumph of extravagance and theatricality served with a wink and a chorus line.

One of the best aspects of The Return is how balanced the songs feel, weaving in bits of modern electronic dance and hip-hop flourishes as on the stuttering, breakbeat-infused "Catch the Loop," and the equally kinetic "Broken Theme." While The Return implies, and often delivers on, Williams' clear desire to recapture the plasmic spirit of vintage '70s jazz-funk, the album is less of a return to past traditions and more of a rebirth.

Writing with a sentimental gaze was a dominant trait of MacIntyre's even as a young man, and now in middle age, he does so with the authority of a nearly two-decade career and accumulated personal history behind him on this excellent release.

Taken together, infectious rhythms, smart lyrics, and effervescent chorus hooks that deliver throughout Ur Fun make it more than a mere amusement.

An album that is at times campy, earnestly romantic, and endlessly listenable. Part of the fun and endearing aspect of Gray's turn towards '80s Euro-pop is just how well he and his production partners captured the studio textures and anthemic energy of the genre.

Though they rock convincingly, there's something missing on Babes Never Die; they've become a more focused, accomplished band, but it's at a price.

Meltdown is a forceful reminder that there really is strength in numbers, and these six guys generate a powerful sound Ryan could never come up with all by himself.

Since quite a few of these songs were already road-tested, it's not surprising that this is a strong debut, but just how consistently catchy and personal True Romance is might raise a few eyebrows.

This cohesive piece is still dotted with stand-out moments.

As he imbues his songs with more warmth than most synth pop and more distance than most singer/songwriters, Cameron charts his own territory on Jumping the Shark with striking and moving results.

Young Machetes is occasionally exhausting, but it definitely won't disappoint fans of either the band's earlier or more recent sounds.

While these tales of people trying to escape their pasts aren't quite as masterful as Carried to Dust, Algiers has some great songs and a vitality that Calexico should try to hang onto in the future.

It employs all his strengths as a writer of lyrics and music and stretches the canvas of his colorful if sparsely arranged tapestry.

There aren't quite as many standout tracks this time around, but there are no real low points to speak of, and there's plenty to enjoy, especially from a beat programming standpoint -- or, even more especially, from the center of a crowded, sweat-soaked dancefloor.

While Cellar Door will definitely come across as too smooth for certain palates--probably even for some fans of Idjut Boys' more dance-oriented material--it is an undeniably classy affair that's all the more impressive for maintaining a commitment to unabashedly lush prettiness while somewhat miraculously avoiding any hint of schmaltz.

Unlike Summertime: Willie Nelson Sings Gershwin, Nelson's limitations aren't a hindrance, and the arrangements aren't excessively polite, which means My Way is an appealingly light record: it's performed with more affection than reverence.

An album that requires and rewards close listening, We Fall is an evocative reminder that there's much more to Wiggs' music than the Breeders' elliptical orbit.

Stone reveals a wide musical portrait of the ever-evolving Baroness, who seems to be embarking on a more expansive creative voyage.

Blood Pressures is a darker, slower ride than Midnight Boom, but it shows the Kills can make subtle innovations as well as bold ones, and make them fit their signature sound to boot.

Themes may be revisited, but Escape 2 Mars stills comes across as fresh and meaningful and fun.

Unlike Magnolia, which sounded like a band trying on a style for size, Two Matchsticks is a perfectly tailored record that works as an extension of American Analog Set, but will also please any fan of thoughtful, simple acoustic-ish pop.

Au Revoir Simone came back to show their contemporaries a thing or two about being a great synth pop band.

Taken as a whole, Doko Mien is two things at once: An assertive collection of forceful dance tunes that defies listeners to sit still, and the most sonically ambitious offering in Ibibio Sound Machine's catalog.

Do It Again is a much happier reunion of collaborators with perfectly matched strengths.

The Neon is stacked with what Erasure does best: Sharp melodic hooks, efficient, hip-shaking beats, and yearning lyrics that both relate and motivate.

A work of absolute beauty, chaos, seductive darkness and cosmic light.

Elsie functions best as a display of Fallon's underused bottom register and acoustic songwriting skills, proving that slowing things down once in a while can still be a punk rock move.

These songs, and the album as a darkly moody whole, show the band to be growing into masters of crafting modern psychedelia with dark swirls instead of day-glo, and bad trips instead of sunshine days.

The album reaches its apex on the soaringly beautiful "Flight Song," evoking at once the best elements and most reflective shades of Eno, Aphex Twin, and free jazz saxophonist Marion Brown.

Microclimate may be homespun, but it's Porcelain Raft's most cosmopolitan and lived-in sounding offering to date. It's a record that consistently compels, even when it confounds.

Fate & Alcohol is the kind of album that gets into your bloodstream and lingers, ever so slightly shifting the way you see the world and your place in it. If it really is the end for Japandroids, it's a farewell that feels like it could go on forever.

Even with the album's epic length, it never feels meandering or indulgent, as Prins Thomas remains supremely focused throughout the entire journey, finding the duality between the different types of "cosmic" music.

Upon repeated listens, the sorrowful undertow of Everyday Robots becomes a comfort, a balm for moments of alienation; it's the kind of record that when you're lonely, you press play.

The relaxed, hypnotic nature of the piece [Post Encounter Effect] is a little surprising coming after the ecstatic first side, but it's calming and welcome nonetheless.

Lustre takes on a kind of cinematic joy where Harcourt the long-suffering vampiric troubadour steps into the light and shines.

The album has a quality about it that's sweeping without being out and out uplifting, feeling more informed by the rigors of touring than the denizens of the Twin Cities and their lapsed Catholic revelations.

Answers has a heavy downtown spirit, with standard instruments played in a unique fashion, and an aggressive interplay that's nearly antagonistic.

Cohen's poetic vision remains the dominant element on this elegiac set.

Lundgren and crew may have lost some of the buzz they initially had when the band first started, but they've gained grace and emotional strength in return. That's a pretty good trade, and for the fans who have stuck with them, it makes Forever Today their most satisfying record to date.

Unearth boasts enough charms on its own, offering up ten enigmatic, audio time capsules that strike a winning, oddball balance between the cool, Krautrock sheen of Kraftwerk, the naturalistic, glitch-filled hum of The Books, and the melodious pop stylings of early Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark.

It's exciting and unique music, not falling neatly in with any of his dubstep/singer/songwriter peers or the large number of indie-leaning electronic producers.

Lower stand out for their unique blend of cathartic explosions and restraint, creating something remarkably powerful in their use of dynamics and tense pacing.

Arguably his most coherent album to date, while off-kilter touches add a layer of artfulness, the songs themselves are engaging, even riveting by nature, and made more so by Blakeslee's performances.

Along with producer Cole M.G.N. (Beck, Julia Holter), Real Estate seems to both fine-tune and expand an already identifiable sound on In Mind, with engaging and often beautiful results.

Time will tell if Perfect Version is a fascinating anomaly in Julia Shapiro's catalog or a bold step into a new phase of her career, but either way it's brave, powerful music that speaks from the heart and the mind. Anyone who has liked her work with Chastity Belt or Childbirth should investigate this study of the emotional flip side of Shapiro's songs.

While the experiment works, for the most part, in tandem with Devine and Hull's always thoughtful and occasionally profound words, the album becomes formulaic as songs reliably start as acoustic song, then gradually ascend into the atmosphere.

The group does touch on that raucous, open-heartedness with a closing cover of Charley Jordan's old country-blues standard "Keep It Clean," featuring cameos from John C. Reilly, David Garza, and Gaby Moreno. Arriving after such a sweet, soft collection of songs, it's a welcome burst of gusto, yet the rest of Brother Sister is attractive in its own right, highlighting the family bond between the titular Watkins siblings.

The remix collection is considerably more fragmented than the cohesive original, but it's no less forward-thinking, and is well worth the time of anyone who was bowled over by the proper album.

The stricter members of the metal community might see King Gizzard as interlopers with no real metal cred, but after Rats Nest and now this thrillingly massive album, there's no reason the band shouldn't be considered one of the best practitioners of the genre around.

[A] rare sophomore outing that not only manages to avoid the slump, but bests its predecessor in the process.

Cole's voice is sweet and ringing, like a wiser version of Lil' Mo who has had to weather a tremendous amount of drama.

Her self-produced full-length debut feels more elaborate than her EPs while also seeming impulsive and off-the-cuff.

As it stands, Transit Transit is a beautifully executed work that would have made the band solid contenders if it had been released back in 1992.

An album that feels looser without ever feeling lazy.

From its unconventional treatment of electronic music to its emotionally raw songwriting, visiting The Sea of Memories is well worth the journey.

The tracks do an excellent job at establishing a mood, but a lot of them don't particularly go anywhere. Leaving meaning. is a decent album, but ultimately it sounds like a sort of reset or palate cleanser that will hopefully lead up to something greater.

Swirlings is another prime example of his brand of gorgeous, multi-dimensional sonic-shaping. Both lush and interstellar, his compositions contain drifting, spacy melodies that unfold at a natural, leisurely pace.

Fortunately, Air learned from their mistakes -- or, at least, their limitations -- leading up to the recording of third album Talkie Walkie, and the happy result is a solid middle ground between both of their previous records.

Woke Myself Up captures the wide range of sounds and emotions of her music, and all the nuances of them as well.

My Morning Jacket is MMJ's most satisfying work since 2008's Evil Urges, and a splendid example of what can happen when their group mind is in sync.

Hardcore fans will be down with every cold hard minute, everybody else gets a B+ effort, and the hip-hop game as a whole gets a really good reason to save Prodigy's place at the table for the next three-and-a-half years.