The warmth of the beats and the tasteful melodic arrangements are perfectly suited to McMorrow's soulful, blue-eyed delivery, and the occasional stylistic detours and offbeat turns of phrase make for welcome deviations from the formula.

It's up to the label's high standard, a riveting composite of grief and filth like no other.

Hunter works within his limits, rocking just hard enough to seem vital and, best of all, his songs remain a thing of wonder: careful and clever, the work of a singer/songwriter who values idiosyncrasy over eccentricity.

Everybody Looking is one of the best examples of Gucci Mane's contributions to rap in his highly prolific catalog.

Wilder and stranger than Anika's previous work, Exploded View is an unpredictable ride that suggests listeners should follow wherever she beckons.

On No Hard Feelings, the South Side native adeptly mixes grit and gloss.

The contrast between Khaled's all-positive demeanor and his facilitation of buccaneering misogyny is stark as ever here, most evident in tracks like "Work It" and "Pick These Hoes Apart."

While comparisons and familiar tones abound, they shouldn't detract from what Troy and Edwards excel at delivering. They mostly serve as touchstones to lock Deap Vally into the ranks of similar artists as genuinely concerned with rocking listeners into sweet submission.

Even if it's not as full of surprises as the original album was, E-MO-TION [Side B] might be even more cohesive--and should delight fans of perfectly crafted pop just as much.

As he imbues his songs with more warmth than most synth pop and more distance than most singer/songwriters, Cameron charts his own territory on Jumping the Shark with striking and moving results.

Nothing here has the upbeat pop appeal of "2 On" or any of the unincluded post-Aquarius singles, but this is clearly designed for a different purpose.

On Can't Touch Us Now, the smarts and the songwriting are closer to the forefront, and it's a fine showcase of what they still do well.

It's a fascinating work of words, for sure, but the weight of Carey's arrangements and the Tempest's surprisingly nimble touch as an emcee make for something distinctive and essential.

Big Baby D.R.A.M. is, at times, odd and imperfect, which is part of the charm.

Despite self-imposed strategic boundaries, The Rest Is Scenery is a remarkably free and unfettered album. Most artists couldn't conceive of such a thing, let alone pull it off; Youngs does it in spades.

Their self-described "acoustic-live remix" can be a little tentative at times. Nevertheless, it's a worthy showcase for Torrini's excellent body of work and achieves a level of quality that many live recordings fail to reach.

All this adds up to one of Neil Young's genuinely strange albums, a record that's compelling in its series of increasingly bad decisions.

The set contains much of Ra's more accessible work, making it an excellent (and very generous) introduction for newcomers, but there's also plenty of material that might've escaped notice from longtime fans.

Because so much of this music is raw--it's alternately live, unfinished, and improvisatory--the box underscores how Pink Floyd were an underground band right up until Dark Side. Decades later, these recordings still feel boundless: this was music made without a destination in mind and the journey remains thrilling.

Harlequin is the type of album that may not please those who hear the saucy single and come for more of the same, but it may thrill certain headphoned listeners who appreciate both classic songwriting and an audacious approach.

I Could Be Happy's covers vary so widely in quality that, in order to thrive, Nouvelle Vague may need to put their original concept aside for good.

The tension and unease conveyed in BBF's earlier output is present here and is magnified by Sheppard, who comes across as an anxious bohemian drifting and acquiring wisdom through a nocturnal and aimless existence.

A subtle yet quietly grandiose set of modern indie troubadour comfort food, the Nashville native's third studio long-player is both comforting and wistful, a warm summer's drive down a forgotten two-lane highway.

Monument Builders is a powerful reminder that ambient music is a fine conduit for emotionally and politically charged messages, and it's one of Morgan's finest works yet.

The entire album is a startling, exciting future-shock that resonates in an era when dystopian sci-fi seem increasingly less fictional, and it's easily DVA's best work yet.

"Anything" sounds like the Cars on an extra-snotty day, while the glistening new wave chug of "Ways to Fake It" and "One Track Mind" feels like the work of a band that influenced the Strokes instead of one of its members. Moments like these are fun for listeners who share CRX's retro fixations, but more often than not, New Skin doesn't deliver on the band's pedigree.

The album manages to sound detached yet intimate as dal Forno's fragile voice and glowing melodies reach toward something intangible.

Daniel still sounds like he's developing his sound with this album, but it's a noble effort, and certainly recommended for fans of Detroit dance music or the rougher, more off-beat side of house.