An exploratory work, Glitterbust nevertheless has an appealing serenity that makes it unique within Gordon's discography.

Even when the album drifts toward the traditional--as it does on "Hurtin' (On the Bottle)" or "Four Years of Chances"--Price's sensibility is modern, turning these old-fashioned tales of heartbreak, love, loss, and perseverance into something fresh and affecting.

New Misery may be uneven, but it confirms Cullen Omori has a musical future one might not have expected based on the Smith Westerns.

Through it all, and sometimes in spite of ambitious arrangements, Jones proves himself to have a way with poignancy and yearning melodies that stick.

Between this record and its predecessor, their creativity seems to have entered a fertile new phase.

Hearing him sing is always a richly enjoyable experience, but The Narrows delivers as both form and content. It's recommended to anyone who has ever found pleasure in his work.

In essence, Brute is dark ambient grime, with Al Qadiri's stamping drums and probing bass frequencies heard less frequently than her synthesized choirs and horns. At its most vivid, it evokes the feeling of anticipating a shove or a bean bag round.

Creatively, Gensho is so rich and expansive, fans of both acts should find it indispensable.

The score is a thoroughly stunning work, showcasing Clark's versatility as a composer and producer, and providing a suspenseful, exciting listening experience.

Loose, languid, yet structured enough to feel like a proper bit of pop craft, it brings things back to earth, if only for a short spell, its unfettered hippie heart aglow with positivity and possibility.

Near perfect and a step forward as well, Barbara Barbara, We Face a Shining Future belongs on Underworld's top shelf.

What began with hope and reassurance ends with darkness and uncertainty. However, despite the loss of faith and the world crashing down, the band declares "here I'm alive" and the cycle begins anew.

Chaosmosis finds the band scaling back their predecessor, narrowing their vistas so drastically it often seems as if the group cobbled it together on an old Casio.

An album that once again proves Pop never was and never will be an ordinary guy.

This isn't a collection of overlooked compositions, it's a bit of pop archeology, excavating records that feel right. Every one of these 19 cuts certainly does feel right, sounding sun-burned and blissed-out, embodying the hangover of the hippie dream.

When she gets heavy with either beats or ballads, This Is What The Truth Feels Like slows to a crawl. Cut away these excesses--these moments of emotional bloodletting or thirsty appeals to the top of the charts--and This Is What The Truth Feels Like manages to be as fleet, giddy and charming as Gwen Stefani ever is.

Nothing bores and the album moves through its track list with a purposeful flow, and while electro-trap fiends and "Harlem Shake" lovers may be thrown by all the artful noise, Aa still rocks the house, as Baauer evolves from meme generator to master craftsman.

For the rest of us, Weighted Mind is a poignant, bracing work by an adept singer and songwriter. She openly invites us into her world with real vulnerability and honesty, and reveals her inner strength in doing so.

Liima still recognizably sounds like Efterklang, but it seems like there's less pressure for them to construct a monumental statement here, and the group seem to enjoy their freedom.

Jones covers a lot of musical ground on this album, and it's all of high quality, confirming his place as one of the top-tier American Primitive guitarists.

While enlightenment through disorientation might not be everyone's moment of Zen, Eraser Stargazer suggests that Guerilla Toss is an acquired taste more listeners could develop.

Even with the album's graceful inclinations, it still sounds as bleak its title, but the way the Body combine disparate components into their brand of mutilated "gross pop" is truly fascinating.

Ultimately, Of Desire finds the KVB in transition, moving toward a more inventive approach that delivers some of their finest work along the way.

It's a great record filled with emotion, imagination, and passion that's on par with any album labeled "emo," past or present.

The band sounded just fine before, quite properly psychedelic and dream state-y; on Freaks of Nurture they have made all the right moves to jump themselves out of the pack and up near the front of the line of their fellow time-traveling freaks.

They embrace their essence, how they want to be broader and burlier than the rest, how they want reflection to seem like celebration and parties to be a dark night of the soul. This contradiction means the band remains an uneasy good time, but at least on Us and the Night the reconstituted 3 Doors Down have decided to look on the sunny side of life.

As a whole, Incarnate improves on the creativity and restlessness offered by Disarm the Descent. There is a lot more ambition, confidence and above all, passion here.

For Star Wars freaks, identifying the sources can be amusing, though not many of the cuts are comparable to the artists' best work.