On this consistently hypnotic debut, Austra carve out a place of their own among their contemporaries.

W isn't as rousing as its predecessor, but it may be an even richer album; in its own way, it's just as audacious.

A super-confident and adventurous collection of songs, Disc-Overy is the sound of an artist completely on top of their game, which could finally help the distinctly British grime scene go worldwide.

It feels like Damon & Naomi have always been around to soundtrack the inner lives of melancholy dreamers smart enough to seek them out, and with this album they continue to provide the same impressive and necessary level of solace and inspiration, deeply felt songs, and enchanted performances that they always have.

Nursing Home is the best kind of second album--it reminds you why you liked Let's Wrestle in the first place and manages to improve on an already stellar offering.

A headlong rush of an album, Pala is accomplished, bold, and very, very danceable; everything Friendly Fires' debut promised and more.

It may come to define or utterly transcend metal; but it doesn't matter because this album is in its own class. Anyone remotely interested in heavy music needs to encounter Aesthethica at least once.

Paisley's determination to keep This Is Country Music lean and lanky does mean it's not as wily as his other records, but his consummate skill as a musician and big heart are always evident, always keeping things compelling.

My Morning Jacket are clearly having fun, and they're learning how to be "out there" without being outlandish.

mble at the Ryman may not be the same as hearing Levon Helm play for a few dozen guests at his studio--or for a few thousand fans at one of America's most venerable venues--but it captures a living legend on-stage proving he doesn't have to rest on his laurels to win applause, and this is a hell of a party coming from a guy well past retirement age.

Hard to imagine any of his future albums beating this one, but it's entirely possible, and all signs seem to point toward this inventive young producer/songwriter being on the rise.

Cosmic Ocean Ship is Todd's most "exotic" recording, but it's easily one of her most ambitious, focused, and satisfying as well.

Cantrell's all-too-brief Kitty Wells Dresses contains its object's sense of sophisticated vocal economy that still conveys the power of truth in the human heart with elegance and grace, making it a fitting tribute for all the right reasons.

[Thurston Moore's and Beck's] collaboration lives up to its promise, delivering an album of psychedelic chamber folk that is the perfect meeting of both artists' mellow sides.

This album perhaps best shows the duo able to capture the sense of drone as exaltation, something derived from the choice of instruments used, whether old keyboards, guitars, effects pedals, or further combinations and extrapolations as desired.

Jarosz's talent is wondrous and in no way normal, and her developing musical maturity continues to be a wonder to watch.

The name Psychedelic Horseshit is more accurate than ever, as they truly sound psychedelic for the first time, surrounded by wild soundbursts and shiny musical squiggles that would probably be called "horseshit" by most mainstream rock fans...In a way, it's perfect. A perfect mess.

Davila 666 have that all-important spark of primitive energy and power that have made bands from the Sonics to the Hives so vital and alive, and Tan Bajo is another great record that all fans of garage rock, new or old, need to add to their collections.

This set is a great introduction to James' early raw recordings; however, it excludes a few tracks from the superior The Best of the Modern Years on Metro Blue.

Street of the Love of Days is a well-conceived, perfectly executed album that captivates you right from the beginning and doesn't let go until well after the album stops spinning.

Bliss Release is perhaps a little too derivative to justify the classic status it's been afforded in the band's homeland, but it's still a delightfully charming debut, made even more impressive by their hastily assembled beginnings.

It's nice to see him in the driver's seat once again, proving he's much more than a chauffeur for someone else's career.

ltimately, The Dreaming Fields is a deeply moving, gloriously articulated album that should not only reawaken the interest of fans, but should win Berg a multitude of new ones.

There are plenty of bands who literally spend a decade working up to an album as well-crafted, confident, and powerful as The Head and the Heart, and these folks managed to knock it out in a bit over a year; is they can make this particular bit of lightning strike twice, we may be looking at one of America's best new bands.

Alegrias is a breezy yet luxuriant exercise in cultural fusion with none of the setbacks: it's a quiet stunner.

ISAM plays out like the soundtrack to some bizarre nature documentary: it continually pauses, goes off in another direction, halts again, then sits unmoving for a time, as though Tobin had been musically ghosting the movements of a tiny insect traveling along a leaf.

This is the most comfortable Alpers has sounded making music, and the result is some of her best work yet.

Builds on the loose and raw sound of Wold's earlier records, but [the album] is also an extension of them, pulling in strains of folk and country and adding them to his signature trance blues sound. The result is a powerfully good record.