Total Folklore is not for everybody, and the act of playing junkyard synths through scorching feedback is gimmicky by design, but he's successfully found his own niche in noise, and his creativity and determination to reinvent music is worthy of high praise.

Not only is Chalice Hymnal well worth the wait, it makes it even harder to choose which album is the pinnacle of Grails' ever-fascinating discography.

Stand Ins glows a little less bright than its' predecessor, but it shines nonetheless.

The thick veil of gloss that co-producers Joe Henry and Tucker Martine use to coat each of the 11 hypnotic tracks is entirely transparent, resulting in a glass-bottom boat ride that's both cathartic and uncomfortably voyeuristic.

Even if Nocturnal Koreans' sound isn't always textbook Wire, its imagery and wit most certainly are, making the album much more than the collection of leftovers its origins might have suggested.

It's a light, breezy affair that seems to take its title quite literally.

She continues to say her piece on alt-rockers like "You Can Be Mean," "Wasting Your Time," and the shrieking "Always," but takes a decidedly philosophical, even accepting turn on the more reflective "Losing" ("There is nothing I can do when the winds of change blow through") and a wistful title track that speaks of forgiveness. Along the way, De Souza delivers some surprises.

A stellar accomplishment from a truly singular band.

There are no easy answers or happy endings here; as Vasquez grows more skilled at expressing his pain, he delivers his bleakest--and most cohesive--music yet.

Every Time I Die are moving in some promising new directions.

The second half, where he traces his friendship with J Dilla, involves some brilliant storytelling, and perhaps the only moments during the album's sessions when Common cracked a smile while recording. It's a touching finish to the rapper's best album since Be.

A more-than-promising debut, Useless Coordinates makes good on the potential of Drahla's previous work and suggests they're not done evolving.

A near-perfect blend of Sparks and Franz Ferdinand's skills, FFS is a collaboration that works very well and offers just about everything a fan of either band could want.

As lyrically eclectic and clever as it is musically, this is one fascinating album.

Further spins reveal the charms of the non-single tracks, and the whole thing ends up being one of the best examples of all the things that help make Swedish pop so magical. For once, all the pre-release hype and anticipation has been justified; the Radio Dept. have delivered the best work of their career.

Not every track leaves a major impression, but Mura Masa is still a quality effort from an ambitious, inventive producer.

Concrete Desert is far from relaxing, but chances are you already gathered that. While it is effective, at nearly 70 minutes, it's better digested in small doses to better distinguish the multiplicity of textural, dynamic, and sonic strategies at work in individual pieces.

Channel Pressure is equally enjoyable as a painstaking period re-creation drenched in neon nostalgia and nylon nausea, and as a piece of sterling (if decidedly warped) electronic pop music in its own right.

It's a good-time record, but one intended to showcase how Mudcrutch hit harder and dig a bit deeper than they initially seemed to do.

Upon first listen, Saltbreakers feels significantly less chilly than 2005's sparse Year of Meteors, but further spins reveal a dark core that radiates warmth only intermittently.

Regardless of how his bandmates might feel, those who like their indie pop filled with soft light and tender beauty will fall in love with this album quite easily.

A vibrant return to form... thrilling and rewarding.

It's not a radical departure for Belle & Sebastian -- there are several intimate, folky numbers that would comfortably fit on their previous records. But having these tunes surrounded by songs that successfully stretch the group's sound gives The Life Pursuit an unexpected, wholly welcome vitality.

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.

Alvvays find a way to articulate their heart-struck, dream-like songs with deft intention and control.

As far as follow-ups go, the Julie Ruin have hit their mark squarely with this oddly hooky, and totally unique, release.

A thoroughly enjoyable LP that sounds warm and familiar upon the first play and gets stronger with each spin.

Clem Snide's fifth album holds no surprises for anyone who has heard albums one through four. End of Love is just as whip smart, goofy, and satisfying as any of them.