It shows Costello's mastery of mood and storytelling, the kind of skill he's acquired over the course of a long career, but the key to Hey Clockface is that these techniques are applied to a record that's as restless as anything Costello made in his younger days.

It may be considerably more commercial than their first album, but Promises Promises is, crucially, also much, much better.

Employing a handful of tasteful collaborators, including J Mascis, Dirty Three drummer Jim White, and the National's Aaron Dessner, who co-produced Passerby, Randall and Hassett have made a record that boldly turns a corner while still slotting neatly into their already sterling catalog.

For the moment, Lights Out suggests they are capable of producing compelling work even as they become increasingly comfortable in their own skin.

Ultimately, that lean sense of purpose is what drives My Way Home: by being lean, heartfelt, and mean, the record proves that Reed is back where he belongs.

The Low Anthem have explored this minimalist, moving stylistic space before, but never so relentlessly and affectingly. Almost completely stripped of virtuosity, The Salt Doll may alienate certain traditional roots fans but has the potential to bewitch musers and wanderers.

The soft, subtle tension between the deeply felt songs and the smooth, sophistication of the execution is quite rewarding, since the album can alternately play like a plea or a balm, depending on mood or timing.

Tasjan Tasjan Tasjan is an album that invites -- and benefits from -- full immersion, as it has its own odd, alluring flow. The nods to the past only serve to indicate how thoroughly Tasjan has absorbed Petty and Lynne, finding a way to spin universal pop into something personal and poignant.

Fine Art is a major step up for Kneecap, an already unique group who have finally delivered on their early promise with a bold, relevant statement.

It also exhibits a sleeker sound than the notably rough-hewn debut, with McClure having invested in "a laptop and some decent microphones." Thankfully, these changes don't erode the outfit's free-spirited charisma.

Aside from a handful of real solid honest-to-gosh gems, the whole album feels a little too casual and off-the-cuff to stand on equal footing with her other recordings.

There really isn't another dance/rap act on the scene that combines snarky teenage style with seriously slammin' retro dance beats the way Fannypack does.

Overall, Standards has a few detours for fans conscious of any band's "progression," but plenty of interesting songs and great musicianship for less vested listeners. Though it doesn't develop the evocative or impressionistic side of Tortoise (as heard on TNT), the band is certainly as inventive as ever

Imagine Bauhaus' "Terror Couple Kill Colonel" massaged by classic 4AD discord and you have the mysterious blend of On! Air! Library!

Despite all attempts to sabotage his songwriting and production with innumerable experimental tidbits, songs within a song, and (seemingly) tossed-off arrangements, Damon Gough has to face the fact that He wrote and produced over a dozen excellent songs of baroque folk-pop for his album debut, and the many gems can't help but shine through all the self-indulgence.

Best of all, Tucker and crew rock out a lot, and in a lot of different ways, on Kill My Blues.

While the lyrics still bristle with discontent, they're less defiant and more concerned with the journey than they are the inevitable descent/ascent to oblivion.

Even if it's not quite as cohesive as Clear Shot, Happy in the Hollow doesn't change the feeling that the members of TOY have one foot in another dimension that they're waiting to transport their listeners to.

Clocking in at just over 37 minutes, Dissolution Wave doesn't overstay its welcome, which helps to absolve it of some of its more directionless moments. However, even at their meandering, Cloakroom manage to compel, and their seismic heft and majestic layers of sound do all they can to counteract the weightlessness of space.

Even though Girls is a brisk nine tracks, there's enough variety and energy to make it an engaging and irresistible listen.

Ultimately, the album sounds more like Tangerine Dream than it does Justice, but the songs unfold and soar in ways indebted to both the patience of space rock and the immediacy of electronic party music.

In the end, what keeps Tremors from drowning in its own paralyzed sadness is the feeling that Sohn himself has defeated these dark feelings through the painstaking process of crafting an album so beautiful.

Fortunately, as a collection of forgotten odds and ends, Release doesn't have to fall into line with the rest of their discography, though the fact that even their forgotten 4-track tapes and VHS masters work better as an album than some band's first choice material is a testament to Cave's songwriting prowess and stellar musicianship.

Kweli persists as one of the most inspired storytellers, wasting no syllables as he condenses and elucidates complex non-fiction.

With Bish Bosch, Walker creates a kind of Möbius Strip: by virtue of creating a less physical sonic landscape, he provides a way into his great trilogy on his way out of it.

Like a guided tour through the last 20 years of guitar rock.

Amerie returns with In Love & War, an album that is much more creative than its title indicates while also playing out a bit like Because I Love It redux.

Treefight for Sunlight's debut is a triumph of sun-drenched ecstatic pop that leaves listeners with an arsenal of hooks in their heads, eager to hear what the band will come up with next.