If it's difficult to focus in on what FC Kahuna does best, it's probably because it's all done well.

Pretty, brittle, subtle, full of surprises, and disarming in its ability to set moods, Life Is Full of Possibilities is a masterpiece that places Dntel near the top of the heap of electronic artists working in 2001.

Ten years since Rocket's first full-length, the sextet still sounds like they're on a live wire with an endless power source, as inspiring here as ever before.

Carrabba's work is so specifically stuck in adolescence that, even if it's presented in a prettier package as it is on A Mark, it's still very difficult for anybody past sophomore year in college to really connect with his music.

Harcourt experiments in more ways than one on this album, never overindulgent in the process.

Strangely lovable and lovably strange, sort of like a lo-fi version of the Flaming Lips.

Rivers isn't as immediate as either Heartcore or The Snake, but fans should find it satisfying once they've had time to let it soak into their ears, brains and hearts. Rivers isn't as immediate as either Heartcore or The Snake, but fans should find it satisfying once they've had time to let it soak into their ears, brains and hearts.

This strong, satisfying, often stunning third release proves he can deliver the goods.

Live at the South Bank is an artfully and spiritually satisfying coda to a long and criminally underappreciated career.

It is, in the purest sense, a back-to-basics move for Buck: he's turned the clock back 25 years, making the album he may have always wished R.E.M. made instead of Fables of the Reconstruction.

Streetlight Manifesto delivering an album of bittersweet ska-punk that feels more grown-up than anyone could have expected the genre to be.

The Phoenix shouldn't shock those who know the producer's past.

Rave isn't a radical departure from Bogdan's earlier work, but it is a welcome reminder of what we've been missing out on for over a decade, and to anyone addicted to his singular style, it's much cause to rejoice.

As a whole, Printer's Devil is both stronger and sweeter than their prior sets, likely resulting in a more lasting impression for casual listeners and a surefire hit for established fans.

Folks who were expecting Lydia Loveless to be the next savior of country music may be thrown for a loop by Daughter, but anyone who wants to hear one of America's best and boldest songwriters working at the top of her game owes it to themselves to give it a careful listen.

It's a bittersweet and ultimately satisfying end to a hugely ambitious project that always remains true to the emotions driving it -- but Arca fans would expect nothing less.

The result is an album that manages to sound both elegant and organic, like classical music made by people living off the land.

Boot! not only refines what the Thing do, it extends them into a breathtaking sphere where a Babel-like musical conversation takes place, elevating all of its singular elements into a rough, raucous, glorious whole.

Weirdo Shrine shows La Luz are more than living up to the promise of their early work, and that they're still one of the most interesting and entertaining acts on the Pacific Northwest scene in 2015.

Parks has always had a light, airy voice, and here it often seems like she's struggling to be heard over the bass, while the breakbeat-driven grooves are more immediate than the songs' hooks. Nevertheless, there's still some quality material on Ambiguous Desire, even if its pleasures are nearly as ephemeral as the nights out that inspired the album.

Doom hasn't changed a whit, but by the same token, he sounds like he's repeating himself. Deft diction is one thing he's got in spades, but there aren't many lines here that will get burned into your neurons.

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.

Pretty much every track on Spirit Youth sports a bewitching melody that makes perfect use of the hypnotic swirl of guitars and electronics, moving in an elegant arc as it unfolds. You can hear it in the delivery, too, with nuanced vocals that seem to say "Hey, after all the trouble we went to in writing these tunes, we're damn well gonna give ‘em their due."

Sinners & Saints is the most confident, self-assured, and consistent recording Malo's done, and it showcases his own playing and songwriting at an entirely new level of skill.

As with much of their late-career output, Old Mad Joy begs for a few spins before it reveals its charms.

Invisible Life reaffirms that Lange can keep that quality, regardless of which direction he takes Helado Negro in next.

Solo work, if he can keep making records this special, should be where he focuses his prodigious talents.

While a little unfocused stylistically, the recordings have a consistently dreamy, submerged sound quality that evokes a past life or at least an obscure record-store find. While the songs' narratives present Drab City as a disappointing destination full of broken hearts and gentrification, its immersive musical allure makes it worth the price of passage.