The title track of this album finds Graveyard at their most rip-roaring, offering a thunderous riff and some stinging guitar soloing. Other tracks throw little stylistic tweaks (background vocals on "Buying Truth [Tack & Förlåt]") into the mix, but the basic formula stays the same.

te its unsettling themes, Nixey's sophomore album is still a warm and charming record which reinstates her position as Britain's most elegant chanteuse.

Wander/Wonder is an exercise in depth, a flowing suite of mermaid's lullabies that turn seductive.

John Doe simply doesn't make bad records, but not all of them are as heartfelt and comfortable as Keeper, and the title is apt--this captures a great singer and songwriter on a hot streak, and you'd have to go back to his 1990 solo debut to hear a John Doe album that's as eclectic, accomplished, and satisfying as this.

This is revolution music; worthy of dancing to, learning from, and singing along with: who says topical music has to be boring?

Alice may be the star but much of the success of Welcome 2 My Nightmare is due to the man behind the curtain, as Ezrin gives this album flair and focus that not only make it an unexpectedly successful sequel but the best Alice Cooper record in decades.

Seeds We Sow is delightfully ragged.

What follows is a lovingly balanced set of rural rockers ("Street Fighting Sun") and dirt road ballads ("Girl in a Coat") that sound about as far from the murky introspection of 2010's Destroyer of the Void as one would expect from a band that continuously tries to reinvent themselves within their own psych-folk/alt-country/indie rock universe, and almost always succeeds.

This focus on approachability over impenetrability makes Dreams Come True not only a welcoming debut, but a fantastic entry point into the more experimental side of electronic music.

Granted, they're not fishing for another viral earworm here, but you'd think they could come up with something better -- for the lead single, no less -- than "Michael Jackson"'s feeble placeholder of a refrain.

If they keep making records as good as Mountaintops, they will have totally earned their gold watch and pension when they call it a day.

Era Extrana's lavish electro-pop proves that Neon Indian can be more than just chillwave.

Ironically, this very looseness not only results in a lively listen, but the polite messiness of Pajama Club winds up as a greater testament to his songwriting skills than the last Crowded House album; as the cliché goes, his throwaways are better than many artist's keepers.

As a record, this The Sea of Memories is easily the most enjoyable collection of songs released under Bush's name.

Ready for Confetti is, without question, Keen's most inspired and focused project in nearly 20 years.

Polished yet heartfelt, Paradise finds Slow Club shoring up their strengths and exploring new territory with equal

While fans might be disappointed that the album doesn't feature "Herb" Alexander, they'll have a hard time being disappointed with Green Naugahyde, an album that will satisfy those in the know while continuing, as Primus always have, to baffle the uninitiated.

Black and White is a refreshingly personal, authentic, and fresh take on a British urban scene that was starting to become slightly stale.

Believers sounds much more like Bondy has simply followed his own muse for a change, and the results reveal his confidence was well founded.

A constantly and unexpectedly thrilling comeback from a resurgent band who have upped their game when it matters the most.

Given what a mixed bag tribute albums usually are, Dedicated is not only a surprise for its consistency, but a shining example of what they can--and should--be.

Kasabian have been a band of post-Brit-pop possibilities from the get go, so bringing in techno, ethnic sounds, and an orchestra is coming home for this impudent crew.

Heritage, for its many excesses--and stellar conception and execution--is a brave album. It opens the door for Opeth to pursue many new directions and reinvent themselves as a band.

It contains the power and dynamics and splendor of her very best material, but because it is a work of classical crossover, any expectation of pop hooks or singalong choruses will be met with disappointment; consequently, its sophistication, elegance, and poetry will reward anyone who takes the proper time to absorb it.

For their third studio album...Megafaun dial back the more progressive elements of their sound in favor of a languid, Laurel Canyon-inspired foundation that treads the middle ground between Blitzen Trapper's experimental, neo-Southern rock romancing, and Will Oldham's post-Palace Music infatuation with American Beauty-era Grateful Dead.

It's the type of album that can be enjoyed on the surface, as pleasant background listening, or as a deeply immersive experience.

Mockingbird Time is a simple but richly rewarding example of what the Jayhawks do better than anyone, and serves as a potent reminder that they're one of the finest American bands of their time.

Perhaps blink could stand to sharpen their words but it's better that they concentrated on their music, creating a fairly ridiculous yet mildly compelling prog-punk spin on the suburbs here.