It hammers the anger home in most tunes, and that's exactly what he feels young people around the world are projecting. He's telling them they're not only heard, but that he feels it too.

They probably could have sold themselves as a revival band or pretended to re-form in their poppier guise; that they have made an ugly, snarlingly dark album like Hidden Fields instead is truly impressive.

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

Elasticity's 78-minute running time can be daunting and exhausting, but A Sagittariun's abundance of creativity and positive energy is admirable, making the album a rewarding experience.

The only time they stumble is when they get a little heavy, like on "Half Hour," where some of the musical choices overpower Simpson's tender vocals. It's a minor quibble that's easy to overlook, and it doesn't make the album any less enjoyable overall.

It's not a showy record and it's not going to bowl anyone over, but it is sneaky good and shows that Primo are definitely on the path to doing something really special.

As Dreaming in the Dark's songs confront pain and choose love in empowering--and sometimes uncomfortable--ways, they reveal Tamaryn as a mature, fully formed artist.

It's tender and sad without any of the distance that he sometimes puts between himself and his listener, instead offering just a few uncluttered country-leaning songs that are simple, direct, and a little bit lonely.

While Homecoming is missing some of the eccentricity and intimacy that made Lung Bread for Daddy so powerful, its frankness and playfulness proves Du Blonde can give her music a pop makeover without losing what makes it real.

Integrity Blues is Jimmy Eat World's most immediately accessible and focused album in years, a peak in the decades-old catalog of these reinvigorated and endearing stalwarts.

With music like this, the line between undercooked and overdone is a pretty fine one, but II: Void Worship shows that Pilgrim are a band more than capable of walking it with an album that's sure to find purchase with doom purists looking for something less fussy than the post-metal albums the genre influenced.

Under the guidance of Lee's gentle melodies and calming voice, all the songs mesh together, though, only slightly shifting, like an afternoon under a late-summer sun.

They may never make a record as unhinged and beautiful as Hold on Now, Youngster..., but if they keep making records as tough and exciting as Hello Sadness, Los Campesinos! will always be worth keeping up with.

Even though the manic intensity that characterized work like Reveille is missed a little here, The Runners Four is still a far cry from typical indie rock; in fact, it sounds more like one of Deerhoof's older albums played at half-speed than anything else.

"An Evening with Dusty" further reveals why Dunn's work is so consistently enjoyable.

Their approach is basic and there are moments of yesteryear reflection, but (with the exception of a few too many crunchy guitars) almost everything on this EP fits perfectly in place with a band that nailed the vibe of a simple good time decades prior.

While some of these cuts work better than others, the range is impressive, as is Grande's measured, assured performance.

Gift of Sacrifice, in comparison, is noticeably more accomplished and better thought out, and Dunn's presence as a collaborator certainly helps Osborne make this into something memorable, though if he's smart he won't get rid of his amplifiers just yet.

The album is a varied selection with solid performances and production throughout. Much like the title suggests, The Off-Season feels like Cole running through different exercises as he gets in shape for something bigger.

After a few more adequate songs without sonic or lyrical linearity -- a tender collaboration with simpatico Afrobeats producer/singer Pheelz stands out most -- the album hits its stride with a sequence of slow jams demonstrating that Usher is at the top of his game as a singer, still much more than a mere entertainer.

Beat Pyramid begins and ends in the middle of the same sentence, literally and figuratively, but it doesn't come across as contrived or insincere, thanks mostly to Barnett, who conveys his words in a manner that is simultaneously solemn and half-winking, as if he knows they could be totally wrong, but he's going to say them like they're all he's got left, anyway.

For all its ambition and poetry, Big Station is consistently great fun. The songwriting and recording employed here take Escovedo's populist and sophisticated art to a whole new level.

This is an impulsive album, an odd piece of work that manages to be puzzling without alienating the listener.

Probably one of indie rock's more dignified efforts of 2003.

The fireworks do not ignite the way they might have, but that is the nature of experimentation. Nevertheless, this is all great fun, a function of Shipp's slippery mind, and the results are not only danceable but disconcertingly so.

Fans who have stayed with the band this long will probably find the album a breath of fresh air.

Here with Me is a cozy and wholly comfortable album, one that begs to be played during rainy days and Sunday afternoons.

Its members share a similar sensibility, so that, although they alternate selections as if participating in a song pull, the album holds together in the same spirit... the familiar one of the drunken slacker full of gallows humor, and the folk and folk-rock music, appropriately, is played in ramshackle, thrown-together arrangements.