There is a wealth of brilliant pop on C88 ripe for the picking, enough to keep anyone smart enough to check it out satisfied for a long time, or at least until C89 arrives.

Mulvey did well to heed the advice of none other than Brian Eno, who in pre-recording meetings encouraged him to share some of the load with others. The outcome sounds like a skilled musician hitting his stride.

Half-Light is a sprawling, passionate musical memoir; as far as remembrances of things past go, this one is remarkably forward-sounding.

If you want to hear a clever, ambitious, and blessedly noisy set from four people who know how to do it right, then the Dream Syndicate's return to duty will find an honored place in your music collection.

It may take Haines another ten years to make her third solo album, but hopefully when she does it will be as richly melodic, subtly dynamic, and emotionally powerful as this one is.

There aren't many current groups that do what Antibalas does so well, especially in the United States, and Where The Gods Are In Peace reminds us they take their art and their message seriously, even as their music generates an impressive degree of joy.

When artists reach a certain point in their careers, they can maintain the status quo or they can challenge themselves; Ranaldo chooses the latter on Electric Trim, imbuing his poetic cool with earnest, quixotic charm that makes this some of his most wonderfully unpredictable music yet.

Dedicated to Bobby Jameson is a weird, catchy, thought-provoking celebration of individuality that offers one Pink's most appealing balances of sugary accessibility and irreverent indulgence.

Taken as a whole, Communicating presents a multi-layered universe of off-center pop well worth exploring.

It's a record where Lady Gaga can join in for a six-minute slow-burner styled after prime Faces ("Find Yourself") and feel at home because this is a place where anybody is invited just as long as they share the same vibe. And, as a listener, if you happen to share that vibe, Lukas Nelson & Promise of the Real is a pure pleasure.

To call I Tell a Fly a difficult listen may be understating it, but within this madcap art-pop song cycle, which is purportedly about two flies in love, are some genuine payoffs for those with the patience to stick with it.

The Laughing Apple can in some ways be viewed as a compromise, as Yusuf makes an album that will resonate with old Cat Stevens fans, but there's never a moment where he seems less than sincere and committed, and this merging of past and present makes for Yusuf's most satisfying album since his return to popular music in 2006.

New Magic is a different animal than Son Little [the self-titled], but both albums are products of a strikingly gifted artist, and listeners who want to hear a smart and passionate musician take R&B into new, thoughtful places owe it to themselves to give New Magic a careful listen.

That Numan can still juggle melodrama and musicality with such effortlessness is impressive, to say the least, but that he can make it so compelling is what sets him apart from his old guard new wave contemporaries.

Highly stylized but memorable for both its unusual palette and what are ultimately consistently good songs (for outright earworms, don't miss "Blue Cigar" and "Daddy Long Legs"), Saturn Over Sunset is recommended for anyone intrigued by the idea of retrofuturist anti-pop.

The times are always right for music as healing and calm as the Clientele's; the times surrounding the release of this wonderfully peaceful and uplifting album need it even more--and, thankfully, the band has responded with some of its best work ever.

Here and throughout Before the Applause, Re-TROS sound fully in command of their sound, and fans of Liars, Battles, Factory Floor, and Public Image Ltd will almost certainly get--and love--where they're coming from.

It's hard to imagine where METZ can go after pushing their sound and skills into the red zone as they have on Strange Peace, but with their third album, they've left no doubt that they're one of the most singularly powerful rock bands in North America, and you ignore them at your peril.

It's anyone's guess what the Yawpers might have in mind for the future, but they sure stepped up their game with their sophomore album, and Boy in a Well is an experiment that absolutely succeeds.

Whichever word one may choose, the record is a delight for lovers of psychedelic guitar interplay, and Beaches continue to be one of the best exponents of that sound around.

Hallelujah Anyhow is another outstanding exercise in record making from Hiss Golden Messenger, and it's recommended to loyal fans and curious neophytes alike.

The record charms because its ridiculousness is sincere and his sincerity is ridiculous--two qualities that make him and his art messy and quite genuine.

Maybe it's missing a little bit of the thrill that came along with hearing TERRY for the first time, but there isn't much anyone can do about that. All the band can do is keep cranking out these kinds of smart and snappy pop songs an album at a time, hopefully for as long as possible.

Both fierce and fragile, Hiss Spun presents an artist in compelling control of the entire scope of her expression.

Perhaps out of necessity, the group seem more inspired here than they have in a while, and the result is arguably their best work since their 2000 opus Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven.

The result is nourishing, a lulling yet ringing affirmation of Wright's deeply rooted connection to the South and its music.

As is the case with much of A Sentimental Education, both of those songs [Bob Dylan's "Most of the Time" and Mercury Rev's "Car Wash Hair"] find Luna deftly straddling the line between deep reverence and inspired reclamation, a perfect balance that renders each track a new addition to the band's own storied oeuvre.

Fans wishing for a full-on return to the glory of early days may not find their reward, but 15 years into their career, the Bronx have matured into their craftsmanship and can both rock and write harder than most of their younger peers.