While No One Was Looking confirms plenty of folks heard fascinating things in the music Bloodshot has brought to the marketplace, it's a great listen that's full of fine surprises and passionate music.

This is most easily recommended to casual fans and folks looking for an introduction to the group's music.

Even if there's a lingering predictability in the paths the Foo Fighters follow on Sonic Highways, they nevertheless know how to make this familiar journey pleasurable.

By and large, the featured performers--mainly McCartney's peers, including his good friend Steve Miller, Billy Joel, Bob Dylan, Brian Wilson, Jeff Lynne, Roger Daltrey, and Willie Nelson, but also a handful of younger performers and old pros, too--stick to both familiar tunes and familiar arrangements, which means The Art of McCartney often gets by on sheer enthusiasm

Sea Island feels like an evolution of the sounds and ideas he explored on his previous full-length, 2012's excellent Sketches from New Brighton, and the short-form releases that followed it, the piano-driven Intervalo and his split EP with the British ambient group Fieldhead.

While the sheer bulk of this set means it's most likely to be heard by hardcore fans, anyone with a genuine interest in Wilco will find a lot of great music that fell between the cracks on this set, as well as a fascinating map of the many roads Wilco did and didn't take.

Dear Youth does an awfully nice job of explaining why the Ghost Inside elicit such devotion. There's no posturing here, just peers trying to work things out the only way they know how: through unmitigated volume.

At its best, Seeds is a fine tribute to Smith and the sound of enduring unimaginable loss.

Though the way Pink zigs and zags on Pom Pom can be dazzling or confusing depending on listeners' patience, in its own way it's one of the best representations of what makes his music fascinating and occasionally frustrating.

Casual listeners may find this to merely be a pleasant and inviting ambient work, but a lot of love went into these nine pieces and repeated spins will reveal great depth and many layers to get lost in.

The producer likewise incorporates vocals, either mostly or completely sampled, that tend to evoke senses of longing, losing grasp, and persevering.

This vibrant jumble of audio adrenaline with flecks of deep thought is, at the very least, an intriguing stab at taking stadium EDM experience somewhere bigger, and better for the soul.

The album won't take the place of anyone's day job, but it is a nice diversion for all involved.

Still in the salad days, these songs are the sound of the band hitting the ground running. They hold up to any of Fugazi's more realized recordings, sounding fresh and--more importantly--urgent even 26 years later.

The Buzzcocks haven't lost their touch as a live act in the 21st century, but The Way makes it clear these guys need to recharge their creative batteries before they attempt another studio album.

If it doesn't always feel like the dream collaboration between these gifted relations, Family clearly demonstrates what makes them special, individually and collectively.

The main successes of Final Days come with its more complex arrangements as well as more nuanced and exacting performances.

Naturally, what is first alluring about Avonmore is its feel--it's meant to be seductive--but the songs are what makes this record something more than a fling.

Luckily on Four the scales are tipped heavily in favor of the kind of songs they do best, with the majority of them sounding like good-time hits that will go a long way toward warming up a cold November night.

Despite a radical switch from digital to analog gear, the album is as bleak and as bracing as Luxury Problems.

The upbeat "Motors Runnin" is a standout, addressing the endless and unpredictable ride of being alive while summing up the restless wonder, excitement, and confusion that lie at the core of the album and find a different voicing from song to song.

This is a modern classical work that, while haunting and beautiful, bears the enduring weight of witness to the madness of a war that was to end all wars yet, as catastrophic and senseless as this shared massacre was, the long shadow of its historical implications remain.

The group really did a fine job of crafting something low-key and gloomy here.

Fortunately, as a collection of forgotten odds and ends, Release doesn't have to fall into line with the rest of their discography, though the fact that even their forgotten 4-track tapes and VHS masters work better as an album than some band's first choice material is a testament to Cave's songwriting prowess and stellar musicianship.

In a catalog that contains over 20 studio albums, Allergic to Water is exemplary for its craft.

It's hard to deny the ups and downs to be found here, but combined they paint a picture of Harrison's complexities and contradictions, and the music has never sounded better--and each album has never looked better--than it does here.

The self-imposed parameters of minimalism, lurching tempos, and anguished, muttering vocals are all well-designed attempts at deeper emotional connection, demanding commitment and close inspection to even begin to crack the veneer of these songs to see the devastating beauty within.

They're an absolute must for anyone enamored with the kiwi pop sound and serve to show a different, less produced and more immediate side of the band's wistful, rolling songwriting style and dynamic, moody playing.