While The Civil War isn't as exhilaratingly disorienting as A Chance to Cut Is a Chance to Cure, it's another triumph; history may repeat itself, but Matmos never does.

If Rival Schools had returned and tried to sound like the same band they were in 2001, there would have been the very real danger of it feeling disingenuous and forced, as if they were trying to recapture their glory days. Instead, the band is more relaxed and confident, and not afraid to experiment a little.

Gallows finds them staying the course, delivering high-octane thrills on every track in a way that feels as if it's meant to reassure fans that Gallows are done playing around and are ready to get back to business.

If there's darkness and pain in these grooves there's also plenty of lightness and joy, with a consistent, compassionate message of redemption through acceptance — as Burhenn sings on "Ways of Looking": "It can be easy if you just let it." That simplicity informs both the album's unstudied songwriting and its deft, uncluttered arrangements.

This may be the most subdued of Richter's Fat Cat releases, but every nuance shows the care with which he crafts all of his music.

Nude Beach were already a better-than-average garage punk combo on their first two long-players, but they're growing into something more on 77, and it's smart, well-crafted stuff that could possibly move them to bigger and/or better things.

With Ross as a foil, Reznor's usual indulgences become focused and refined, making Add Violence a satisfying addition to NIN's less-essential, non-album output.

Lyrics like the closer's "No more listening today" and "No one left here today" may apply to some returning fans, but the invigorated approach to production, arrangements, and, in many cases, performances makes for a still highly listenable set that's at least as likely to excite as to challenge.

With Heart-Shaped Scars, she's found a home in sparse and spooky folk. Possibly not something one could have predicted when she first arrived on the scene with One Dove, but something that is satisfying and true all the same.

At 53 minutes, You're Not Alone might have benefited from some trimming, especially given its relentless volume and energy, though it's not without its dynamics.

As ridiculously high as his [Quinn Walker's] voice may be, and even though it may take several spins to become acclimated to it, the melodies are sharp and enticing.

Without losing any of the distortion, Devine's approach is clear-headed and direct, melding the indie pop mysticism of Neutral Milk Hotel or Elliott Smith's tunesmithery with the political conscience of Billy Bragg.

Even more so than on The Race for Space, PSB seem less like a gimmicky novelty group and more like a new breed of intelligent, socially conscious pop music.

At the Gates have been at the fore of the Scandinavian death metal scene since the early '90s -- Terminal Spirit Disease and Slaughter of the Soul are seminal works -- and the dark and inventive Nightmare of Being should ensure that they remain there.

Year of the Spider is the work of four musicians who are not content to be goofballs -- they can maintain their creative vision while making more of it, and it's a great step forward for a band that's becoming deeper and more satisfying than one might have expected.

James' own lyrics are plainly stated and confessional, as on tracks like "The Book of Self Doubt" and "Seems Like I," though she often embellishes them with pitched-up accompaniments. The tracks with guests are often the most successful, as they offer a bit more tonal and melodic counterpoint.

On this 11-track masterpiece, so full of adrenaline and swarming moods, ATDI has created one of the most infecting and mind-blowing rock albums in a long time. While most of the tracks are of the more aggressive edge, this is undeniably the band's most focused and well put together and, therefore, best all-around album yet.

A brief but compelling work from an important artist.

Bardo Pond seem to be on an eternal, destination-free odyssey, and Vol. 8 is another strong stop on their trek.

Rappers Johnny Venus and Doctur Dot break up their unhinged, nasal flows with moments of jubilant soul harmonies ("Top Down"), bounding upbeat acid jazz instrumentation ("Blue Moon"), darkly experimental beats ("Avenue"), and different approaches and coloring on almost every track.

It's not every day when a band makes a second album that's more thrilling than their debut, but Pom Poko aren't an everyday band. Their tricks are always in service of their songs on Cheater, and their excitement about the possibilities of their music is utterly contagious.

It's an album less for blasting out of car radios and more for dusty Sunday afternoons and at times, it can feel a bit dulled by its own weight. Still, it's nice to hear the band stretching out and evolving, and even if Keep You requires a little more patience there is still much to like about it.

She may be not a girl, and not yet a woman, but on Speak Now she captures that transition with a personal grace and skill that few singer/songwriters have.

Same Old Man shows he's learned a lot since then, and you can hear the lessons shining through in this music.

It's uncompromising yet masterful, an auspicious and perhaps even magical first offering.

Red Barked Tree is another strong effort, and while Wire is still making music that shatters expectations, after 30 years they're sounding a lot like the mainstream rockers they once despised.

Withstanding some strange experimentation - including a steamy a cappella version of the Canadian folksong "Peggy Gordon" and a sludged-out, seven-and-a-half-minute cover of the Who's "My Generation" - The Bride Screamed Murder is surprisingly accessible.

Civilians has as many stories attached as any record Henry's written, but they're so finely crafted now that the singer almost disappears in their flickering appearances on the wall of the mind of the listener.