Stace still has the lyrical facility and way with a melody that made Harding a potential Next Big Thing in the '90s, while also gaining some seasoning that shows he's not simply chasing past glories.

Throughout its just-over-30-minute runtime--very punk--Graffin and company take on everything from gospel, Americana, and bluegrass to Crazy Horse-esque pre-grunge and breezy Laurel Canyon country-pop, and that they do so with such gusto makes Millport feel like less of an outlier, and more like guys making the best of a power outage.

There are a few other bands treading this same sonic path (Omni being the best around), but with Offers, NE-HI show they have what it takes to compete.

The entire album is exhilarating from top to bottom, and is easily the most exciting Squarepusher-related release in at least a decade.

One of their strongest albums in a while, Hot Thoughts is more proof that Spoon only get better at introducing new ideas into their music, while sounding unmistakably like themselves, as the years pass.

The result is rich and resonant, a testament to the power of communal music over solo soul-baring.

Paradise suggests it may be a very long time before Anohni gives us another album like I Am a Bird Now (if she ever does), but the strength and vision of this EP offers the promise that she may soon offer us something similarly powerful and moving in her new musical frameworks.

Robust and fearless, Spirit may end up being one of the earliest and best salvos of its political era.

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.

This fondness for old-fashioned songwriting gives Feel Your Feelings Fool! a sturdy understructure upon which the Regrettes thread feminism, sneering angst, and ecstasy. All these intertwined emotions give the album an emotional punch that complements its musical rush.

The easy joy of the music on Freedom Is Free is as eloquent as any of the lyrics, and this is ambitious multi-cultural funk with a firm sense of heart, soul, and groove.

They continue to show that rare talent here and, ten years into their recording career, that's something they can point to with pride.

Tonally falling somewhere between Joy, Departed and It Kindly Stopped for Me, the album's blunt confessionalism doesn't always make for an inviting world, but is nothing if not completely honest.

Perhaps the individual songs seem ephemeral when isolated on their own, but that's because Room 29 is constructed as a tone poem, a collection of songs, poetry, and incidental music that's designed to be a hyper-reality--an intersection of the glamorous past of Hollywood and our arch modern sensibility, and it succeeds gloriously at that.

What could have easily become a motley collection of showboating duets is in fact a remarkably cohesive record featuring a number of fine instrumental augmentations to Brown's thoughtful songs.

There is much to be enjoyed on Everything Is Forgotten, but the elegant lightness of touch on their debut has all but disappeared. The potential is clearly still there, but next time they'll really need to embrace and explore it to their full ability if they are to make their mark.

The tone of Locus is unerringly dark with the repetition and harsh timbres occasionally tilting proceedings into the overly bleak, but there is enough overall nuance to keep the listener engaged for the duration.

A sparse duet with Oleta Adams comes across like a bonus track transplanted from a different project, but it lets the listener out in a state of romantic contentment, the finishing touch on a uniquely bittersweet addition to the box of chocolates that is James' discography.

The songs "The Ballad of Jimmy McCade" and "Bottle" hail back to "English Rose," while "Jawbone" simmers to funky wah-wah rhythms and swaths of psychedelic guitars. These grab the attention--the other three short selections are essentially incidental music, even "Jawbone Training" with its hyperactive hi-hats--but the album's centerpiece is its opener, "Jimmy/Blackout," a 21-minute suite that builds from atmospheric electronics to a shimmering sung denouement from Weller.

Dark and luminous at the same time, Forget allows Xiu Xiu to redefine pop in a way that's true to their volatile--but always gripping--nature.

World Eater's focused chaos is some of his finest work yet.

I'm Only Dreaming's brightest highlight is "A Song for the Birds," a bright guitar pop song featuring DuPree-Bemis' husband, Say Anything's Max Bemis, that feels like a sequel to their previous collaboration, Perma. Moments like this suggest that this incarnation of Eisley sound best when they're creating new traditions instead of holding onto old ones too tightly.

At 17 tracks, it covers a lot of ground and not every track is a winner, but there's a decent number of promising artists here.

A hard sell that pays off with a lasting impression.

The album is intriguing and accessible, yet just strange enough to stand out among all the other experimental electronic artists mining the early new age era for inspiration.

Wild Cat is a wild ride from one of the best hard rock bands treading the boards today, and it's a fine introduction to their high-octane style and certain to please loyal fans.

The album feels intimate and delicate without sounding rustic. The album always maintains an undercurrent of fear or despondency, but it never gets too overbearing, and stays intriguing throughout.

Grinding Wheel never feels like anything less than vital. Overkill, or to be more specific, founding vocalist Bobby "Blitz" Ellsworth and bassist D.D. Verni, have been at this racket for nearly four decades now, and the fact they're continuing to dial up the intensity instead of resting on their considerable laurels is impressive, to say the least.