Victor Axelrod's production is clear, dry, and accurate, and the final product is a superb example of a new band building something powerful from the sounds of the past. Dan Klein's passing means we may never get another Frightnrs album, and certainly not one with this lineup. But this is music about life, and the passion and gritty joy of Nothing More to Say are what make it essential listening, regardless of the fate of the lead vocalist.

Altogether, the album's palette and Jacklin's cracking, pensive delivery land her in a sphere with heavy-hitters such as Sharon Van Etten and Angel Olsen, with a touch of Lucinda Williams, making it a must for fans of thoughtful indie folk.

While not all of Utopia Defeated's tracks are as immediately engaging as the aforementioned highlights, Perry introduces a unique vision and his impressive debut is well worth the time it takes to let it decant.

Jones' originals feel as elegant as time-honored standards, and all her covers feel fresh. The former speak to her craft, the latter to her gifts as a stylist, and the two combine to turn Day Breaks into a satisfying testament to her ever-evolving musicianship.

Taking into account Whibley's dramatic and life-altering experiences, the hits land harder than ever, resulting in Sum 41's most honest and sincere album yet.

Their exploration and exposition of what lies hidden in tradition in the creation of new music make for utterly compelling--and perhaps even obsessive--listening.

His music is remarkably creative and avoids sounding like a cheap novelty, or the audio equivalent of an ill-conceived Halloween costume.

Ultimately, with WALLS, Kings of Leon have struck a nice balance between the garage band passion of their early work, and the large scale bombast that made them stars.

On The Violent Sleep of Reason, Meshuggah set out simply to capture the energy of their live shows in the studio. They accomplish that in spades, and reaffirm why they don't need to worry about innovation: their writing and playing accomplish that in their very nature.

With Gameshow, Two Door Cinema Club ultimately balance a growing pop maturity with a stylish strut worthy of Saturday Night Fever's Tony Manero.

Every Now & Then is the best kind of second album, one that improves on the first one without throwing away any of the elements that made it good.

It's a dense and lyrically challenging record, as you would expect from two highly intelligent individuals who have lived through the bars they deliver, but it ends on their most salient point: "Can't escape yourself, please love yourself," Riz MC's final words on "Din-e-llahi."

Like an Arrow doesn't simply feel like it's built to last, it feels like it's been kicked around the block a few times and has emerged all the stronger for it.

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.

The album succeeds in creating a calm state of mind, but it never dwells in one place for too long, sounding more excited than it might seem on the surface.

Some of the lyrics are so direct that they scan as trite, yet they're expressed with soul-stirring, serve-the-song conviction, and he's in the top tier when it comes to pure skill. Moreover, the songs are of undeniably high quality, filled with joy, gratitude, and devotion.

Despite his long list of gripes, sins, and losses, Cohen's instinctive opening to whatever light remains prevails on You Want It Darker.

Even on more restrained moments like these, Gately's audacious ideas and artistry make Color a dazzling debut album.

Stewart is content to work on the fringes of the synth pop underground, and that's the kind of iconoclasm that makes It's Immaterial worth seeking out for fans of the sound who are sick of how omnipresent it seems.

It may even be their most consistently impressive and overall most cohesive record to date.

It's intimate and powerful and, at 48 minutes, it's also a perfect length. Requiem for Hell is simultaneously a perfect introduction to and summation of Mono as a band.

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.

Obel's penchant for pairing elements of Elizabethan choral polyphony with millennial angst, not to mention her liberal use of spinet and celeste, would seem pedantic in less skilled hands, but there isn't a single moment on the quietly stunning Citizen of Glass that doesn't feel authentic.

Attitude counts for a lot with Chrissie Hynde, but the true appeal of Alone is how it marries solid songwriting with a sympathetic, surprising production, all of which amounts to a very satisfying Pretenders album.

Overall--despite the serious premise of addiction and recovery--The Wave is urgent and joyous, so achingly hopeful that it's hard not to root for Chaplin and his family.

The Serenity of Suffering is a welcome return to a time when Korn were at the top of their game. It's one of their best albums, almost heart-warming in its cathartic familiarity.

After a pair of lovingly crafted though similar-sounding albums, Apricity is a welcome venture into uncharted territory for Syd Arthur, and displays their willingness to grow and expand.

Integrity Blues is Jimmy Eat World's most immediately accessible and focused album in years, a peak in the decades-old catalog of these reinvigorated and endearing stalwarts.