Its sonic audacity is so bracing, it's relatively easy to forgive the lyrical stumbles, which crystallize on the dirty puns of "It Girl," but that's nearly beside the point because, unlike Love Stuff, Shake the Spirit never seems indebted to Elle King's idols. Instead, it embodies her own bold, bawdy heart.

Standell-Preston's vocals can border on grating, and sometimes the band's approach feels formless instead of abstract. Nevertheless, Braids' uniquely feminine experimental pop is largely a success.

Although the uniformly sweet pop songs on Kicking the National Habit sound influenced by the likes of the Police, Men at Work, Duran Duran, and the rest of the more commercial side of the early MTV era, the arrangements are more electronic in nature.

Throughout the epic set (which seems to have been played to less than 50 people from the minimal amount of cheering and banter between songs), Phillipps and the umpteenth update to his backing band maintain an air of autumnal detachment and sinister cool, true to their best moments even though the performance happened so deep into their career.

Ford is a rare talent and, for now at least, she's got the right band and seems headed in the right direction, not that Untamed Beast is a transitional album. It's a full-tilt arrival.

Presented with genuine humility, these relatively simple songs are nonetheless brimming with moral authority.

It's a clunky end to a disappointing album; one that sounds less like a reinvention and more like a giant step down a path best left unexplored further. Maybe they can strip back down to a trio, get their pedals back, and return to being a first class psych band instead of second rate indie rock troubadours.

Hersh's songwriting is as detailed and dynamic as ever, but the intricacies are less apparent when delivered with such heat-seeking power.

At its best, Faith in the Future is a compelling and suitably individual study of the Darkness on the Edge of Some Other Town, where Finn has plenty of stories to share.

Many fans and newcomers alike will have been won over by another album that disarms and charms with its flawed universe while offering just enough musical catharsis.

It's a lean, tight record that takes its time but doesn't dawdle, it has the easy confidence of a pro who knows that he's working at the top of his game.

As a collection of unabashedly melodramatic, dear-diary poetic, and tastefully lush happy/sad dream pop anthems, In Roses delivers the goods with the sort of restrained panache that’s sure to win over the NPR crowd.

The hard-driving, barely-holding-on-to-the-wheel songs are the main draw here, though, and the band delivers so many of them it's hard not to be breathless by the end of the album.

Change is good. Growth is necessary for survival. Fans should not be disappointed.

Psychopomp is an impressive work by an artist well worth watching in the future.

It's bleak and brutal, but it's never suffocating, and it encourages reaction and resistance. There's even some light shining through during "Post-Scarcity Anarchism," when a much brighter, more hopeful melody emerges through the frazzled synths and piercing noise flares. A few ambient interludes somewhat dull the album's impact, but relentless, abrasive pounders like "Futures Betrayed" and "Quantum Unfolding" provide the bulk of the program.

Even in its self-conscious worship of shoegaze it could easily become a late addition in that genre's canon. Shelter is expertly crafted, inspired, vulnerable, and honest.

This is a sound that's utterly unique to Dinosaur Jr., and what's different about them in their reunion is that the group not only realizes their individuality, they revel in it, getting lost in the noise, and it's hard not to get swept up with it, too.

Thank You Very Quickly is that rare thing in popular music as well as indie: that a band sticks it out long enough to find, among the various elements of its individuals, a real musical synthesis that creates a sound that is so much bigger than the sum of its parts.

Punk and Poetry, sees them come out fighting with more fervor, more radical spirit, and more anger than ever.

At their best, Daphni and Jiaolong definitely have a vitality that some dance music--and even some of Snaith's other work--lacks, but its hyper-simple approach actually makes it more challenging to appreciate than something with a few more flourishes might have been.

By and large Construction Sounds is a restful and refreshing listen--and one that reflects how far his music has come during the years since he last used the Schneider TM moniker.

To Dust is body music for the spirit, a celebration of all that is human. It is the record that should finally put her over to a mass audience.

Along with being the most accessible and traditional of Stoltz's albums, Double Exposure turns out to be one of the best.

They've constructed a vivid and often mysterious beast of an album with snippets of commentary and perspective hidden within, highly enjoyable either taken at face value or dug into deeper.

As a stage experiment, Watkins Family Hour has thrived for 13 years, and now with a fine record to document their efforts, they've hit on a format that could offer boundless possibilities for years to come.

In trying to re-create the music he's long admired--all at once--through The Last Hurrah!!'s kaleidoscopic persona, he's moved beyond the trappings of mere nostalgia. Via the music of Mudflowers, the historical past is vital and ever present.

Like an Arrow doesn't simply feel like it's built to last, it feels like it's been kicked around the block a few times and has emerged all the stronger for it.