Finely nuanced shades of gray are all he needs on Lake Fire, a formidable, beautiful return to Loscil's fundamentals.

They are rock songwriters whose lyrics are guitar lines sung, shrieked, and wailed to the accompaniment of a masterful rhythm section. Mono are a rock band -- and a damn fine one -- and they only get better with time.

That the band never lose themselves in the process of these myriad digressions is impressive to say the least, but what's most notable about Found in Far Away Places is how fluid the ride is.

If you've never liked Sparks, Hippopotamus isn't likely to convince you otherwise, but as a band that seems perversely proud of being an acquired taste, this album shows Sparks are still in fine fettle, and this should delight their loyal fan base.

Ultraviolet is a remarkable album that blurs the lines between jazz improvisation, modern composition, and ambient electronic music, forming its own musical language.

Two of the more transfixing songs feature Yorke using his lower register. On the torpid ballad "The White Cliffs," he duets with himself, switching from nightmarish visions recounted in falsetto to stern if soft baritone responses like "This is your punishment" and "Everything is out of our hands." Yorke's lead voice thrums throughout "The Men Who Dance in Stag's Heads," a highlight.

This unrepentantly unsettled, searching feel makes private LIFE a little less immediate than Ecstatic Arrow, but as they lean into the more experimental side of their music, Virginia Wing share a rich inner life that reveals more with each listen.

Although Back to Black does see her deserting jazz and wholly embracing contemporary R&B, all the best parts of her musical character emerge intact, and actually, are all the better for the transformation from jazz vocalist to soul siren.

Their message is most vibrant on the most danceable songs, such as "Dark Night" and "Easy to Get." It all adds up to a potent reminder that when it comes to life and music, you can't have a future without a past; on Why Make Sense?, Hot Chip explore both in confident and exciting ways.

Due to its bright, open production and quirky presentation, Heart Like a Levee is a watermark for Hiss Golden Messenger. Seldom have hard times sounded this uplifting.

Although the work as a whole is not a film score, it has the flavor of one, and it opens up intriguing possibilities for the expansion of that language to other settings. Certainly recommended for anyone who has noticed and liked the music for Arrival.

The juxtaposition of pretty janglers, moodily melancholy ballads, and tough rockers makes the album the richest Cairo Gang record to date. Credit to Segall for helping out, but Untouchable is Kelly's show and while it won't make anyone forget the Byrds or Love, any song from the album would sound pitch-perfect on a playlist next to either band's best work, and that's really saying something.

The music here is not only solid, but attractive and clever to boot.

Your Queen Is a Reptile is easily Sons of Kemet's most compelling outing. It offers inspired stylistic contrasts, canny improvisation, and killer charts. It's tight, furious, joyous, and inspirational.

With In Praise of Shadows, Puma Blue has crafted a deliberate slow burn of a debut album you'll enjoy taking your time with.

Stately and almost elegant, Zeit is a haunted, pensive work that faces life's inevitabilities with an appropriate rage, heart, and sense of humor that only Rammstein can deliver.

Picking up the ball right about where Air dropped it after Moon Safari, Röyksopp produced one of the most intriguing downbeat albums of the year.

Be More Kind is musically inventive in its use of punk, folk, soul, and electronica but deceptively simple in its message, which is as complex as the times we live in.

Complete and correct, Goldenheart is a triumph.

Those who don't process the lyrics will be missing a lauded part of the McCombs experience, Mangy Love, arguably more than ever, works as a musical expression alone, mixing the sometimes caustic lyrics and roguish indie touches with an overriding smooth '70s veneer. For those who take it all in, the album engages both the intellectual and aural pleasure centers.

Strange to Explain sounds like the result of carefully considered choices in songwriting and production. Without losing the unfiltered emotion that makes them so compelling, Woods reach a new maturity with these songs. Fifteen years into a tirelessly curious evolution, the band sound more comfortable and surefooted here than ever before.

A collection of more shimmering, weightless pop that is nostalgic for yesterday's visions of the future but remains on the cutting edge of contemporary music.

What is impressive is that the trio manages to sound contemporary using only piano, bass, and drums, and without resorting to electronic gimmicks.

Just when the strings, piano, and rainstorm effects threaten to turn Sing the Sorrow into a My Dying Bride album, there is a burst of hardcore like "Dancing Through Sunday" to recall California pioneers of the genre like Dead Kennedys or SST transplants Husker Du.

While it is neither as monumental as "Donuts" nor as exemplary as the "Dillanthology" discs, Jay Stay Paid is close to a must for any casual Dilla admirer.

These songs are nearly as wide-ranging and comprehensive as an actual atlas, but Cox keeps charting new territory.

Ryder-Jones deserves to make the leap from imaginary films to the real thing.

The rapper's skills aren't in question on The Lost Boy, but the album sometimes overshoots in its ambition, aiming for too many styles to hit them all with excellence. It's still a strong collection, and when Cordae strikes a perfect balance of mellow production and lyrical power on standout tracks like "We Gon Make It," it points to even more fully formed work ahead from a strong talent just getting started.