If there were any justice, Ain't No Grave would be the last album released under Cash's name. It is not only a compelling contribution to his legacy, but an offering that closes the historic American Recordings series with the same stamp of quality that began it.

Espers II is both wondrous and troubling.

Blessed is Williams' most focused recording since World Without Tears; perhaps since Car Wheels.

Psychedelic Pill [is] yet another oddity in a catalog filled with them: it's noise rock as comfort food.

Built on acoustic guitars with little splashes of color like handclaps, tooting horn sections, and subtle strings, the record sounds remarkably large in its smallness.

From that first play, it's evident that Furtado is indeed an audacious songwriter, not at all hesitant to bare her emotions, tackle winding melodies, and bend boundaries to the point that much of the record sounds like folk-pop tinged with bossa nova and backed by a production designed for TLC.

Handsome Boy Modeling School succeeds where so many compilations fail. It's a great album from start to finish.

Youth and Young Manhood isn't sonically adventurous, but in the new-millennium pop realm, some greasy licks sure sound good.

While nobody could accuse Teenage Fanclub of taking huge creative risks, more often than not the tracks on Man-Made do resemble something along the lines of '70s soft rock group America backed by Stereolab -- which is a very cool thing.

Few debut albums are audacious enough to call to mind Odetta, M.I.A., and the Raincoats--often all at the same time--but this is just such a rare bird.

It's all quietly dazzling, a sinuous fusion of jazz, dub, and techno that pulls from German, African, Jamaican, and Latin forms without the slightest hint of stuffiness.

Their music is generic, competently played, but breaking absolutely no new ground. Only someone utterly obsessed with hearing every pop-punk album ever, by anyone, should pick this up.

Four Tet's entry in the Fabriclive series plays things surprisingly straight, largely limiting his selections to a narrow stripe of electronic dance music, and for the most part linking them together in a reasonably smooth, utilitarian fashion.

The funny thing about Western Teleport is how it sounds and feels like a full band creating something multilayered.

A tremendously heartfelt celebration of music as a force for transformation, togetherness, love, and personal expression.

While it's understandable that The Thousandfold Epicentre's broader canvas may require a little more time for digestion than 2009's The Time of No Time Evermore, and certainly 2008's kick-upside-the-head Come Reap EP, there's no shortage of creativity or entertainment to be found here.

The Marble Downs is a cult classic in the making, and if Oldham's involvement helps more people discover Trembling Bells' eclectic brilliance, so much the better.

California death-grinders Cattle Decapitation will never be accused of subtlety, but there are moments on the typically grotesque Monolith of Inhumanity, their seventh long-player, that are unabashedly melodic.

Generals, like What We Lose in the Fire We Gain in the Flood, may use the past as its foundation, but it was put in place by some forward-thinking engineers.

The band gives the songs greater depth rather than always putting the message right there on the surface, and this change allows the listener to dive into the songs to really absorb and understand them.

It's lengthy, but anybody who was ever wondering if there was more to 10cc than the well-worn hits will find a rousing affirmative answer here.

Some of his finest and widest-ranging music yet, In Focus? offers charming proof that a more accessible approach doesn't necessarily spell creative death for a musician, especially one as freewheeling as Tokumaru.

There aren't a lot of bands that can pull off making something so quiet and unassuming but with as much emotional pull and drama as The House at Sea. Amor de Días do it with ease.

No Beginning No End is James' most holistic and expansive recording.

While the band might be adjusting after a shake-up like losing a singer, they've still managed to create another riff-fest that, while not a throwback to their older sound, has them continuing down their current path without much trouble.

Hero Brother is a carefully conceived yet relaxed presentation of a fairly startling series of works that reveal the versatility and considerable creative depth of a composer/soloist who has been hiding in plain sight all along.

Both Sands and Owens are superb, technically adroit musicians who complement McBride's warm, generous bass playing at every turn on Out Here.

The great thing about May Death Never Stop You is how it showcases all their brilliant, florid moments so they sound like visionaries without a continent to call home.