At times, he can push his influences a little hard--"Hey Mama" is essentially a mash note to Van Morrison--but the impressive thing about Tearing at the Seams is how he and his band seem to be synthesizing their clear influences into their own voice. That's why Tearing at the Seams works.

Not only is Ring one of the few albums to feature the Nepalese stringed instrument the sarangi and a structure inspired by Homer's The Odyssey, it's also a fresh, creative debut that more than fulfills Glasser's potential.

Overall, this is a generous, beautifully packaged retrospective of one of the 2000s' premier synth pop acts.

Whether, taken together, the take-me-or-leave-me Bloodless is ultimately appropriately chaotic and admirably confrontational or, rather, overcooked is up to the beholder, but Samia's knack for strong melodic hooks and open vulnerability here are unquestionable and consistent.

It's their most accessible set of songs yet. Having said that, the group's whimsical practice of injecting far-flung timbres and effects into their songs, as well as a certain flat-tire wobble in their performance style are both joyously still in play.

Fanfare travels easily between intimacy and more psychedelic-influenced euphoria because Wilson's songwriting remains his ace in the hole. For all its laid-back deference to his production, it's tight, clever, and artfully constructed.

Abandoning sculpted hooks for rambling poetry that surges as much for punctuation as emotion is a canny move by Palmer: it forces attention on the lyrics, since the rest of the record feels deliberately amelodic. As such, There Will Be No Intermission is an album designed to demand attention, even if it doesn't necessarily command it-it's too obtuse and willful for that.

While the busy sonics and intricate wordplay of Haunted Painting mean there's a lot going on, Dupuis juggles it all with flair and heart.

Fans looking for more of Fake It Flowers' sass might initially be disappointed, but Beatopia's quiet confidence and well-rounded musicality feels like Beabadoobee is laying the groundwork for a long and varied career while remaining true to herself.

Somedays the Song Writes You is another choice album from one of the greatest songwriters to ever come out of the state of Texas.

The experience of hearing the band's ebb and flow as they organically develop the performance in real-time--as opposed to hearing a package of material that has been cherry-picked after the fact--is one of several advantages that the Live in New York (2009) anthology has over its predecessors. Another is the stunning fidelity throughout, thanks to the work of Doors' original producer/engineer Bruce Botnick and the exhaustive processes of restoring the eight-track, open-reel master tapes.

Where Lana Del Rey seemed weighted down by existential sorrow on her first two albums, Honeymoon seems comfortingly melancholic and that's the truest sign that it is the fullest execution of Lana Del Rey's grand plan yet.

Too often it seems as if Modest Mouse plays it safe on We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank.

Toujours is an album of true originality, executed with humor, warmth, and spark, and captivating from beginning to end.

Endless Rooms is another strong outing from the group, definitive proof that they are still gleefully exploring their sound and are more than willing to take whatever approach is needed to put the songs across.

Some might miss the more abstract appeal of the original AF album, but the way the band updates and slightly expands that approach makes this new album a resounding success that works on the sonic level, and maybe more importantly, a deep emotional level.

As on their first two classic full-lengths, Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo display excellent crowd control, pacing the record well, spacing the hits, and building the mood like the good crowd-pleasers they are.

Overall, the Sage may be polemical on a level like few other than Dead Prez, but he also has a metaphysical side matched by few other than Jeru tha Damaja.

Jones' faith in her own creative judgment is well-founded, and this is a work whose modest scale belies its emotional strength.

It's striking stuff--definitely not easy listening, but well worth the effort, even if it feels like a slightly lopsided affair, with the final four tracks overshadowed by one terrifically effective and truly inventive epic.

As life seems to move at an ever-faster pace and information threatens to overload, Breakers offers an uneasy but welcome respite if we just take the time to listen.

And even though it's a more emotionally heavy album than a lot of his previous work, Coulton still knows how to leave people with a smile, ending the album with two new versions of his famous Portal and Portal 2 theme songs.

Dead in the Boot is a quieter, more abstract affair that feels surprisingly autonomous.

It's the Haden Triplets and their untouched yet effortless harmonies, the kind that can only be derived via the preternatural harmonic instinct shared by siblings, that provide all of the chills (the good, non-flu kind).

Supernova is unapologetically and indulgently retro; a casual listen might dismiss it as mere nostalgia. But pairing Auerbach's detailed, careful production with LaMontagne's open, expertly crafted songwriting and breezy, sensual, emotionally unburdened signing, that boundary is shattered.

Luke Winslow-King may sound like a gentleman on Everlasting Arms, but one listen to this album will convince you that when it comes to music, nice guys really can finish first.

Subtle, yet curiously persuasive, No News From Home is as unassuming as it is alluring.

As with many of the album's highlights, the song is an aggressive blast of post-punk that never sticks to the same tempo and ends quickly (in this case, in under a minute and a half). Other songs on the album are a bit more brooding, even tipping toward goth.