While this far more polished version of Lemonade is barely recognizable when held up to their earlier incarnations, their more developed aptitude toward hooks, melody, and intricate dance production makes Minus Tide a much more memorable--and in its own way, equally visceral--listening experience.

Delta Spirit's commercial aspirations may be more apparent this time around, but they've done an awfully nice job in pairing that inclination with material that benefits from the slick production, resulting in their most cohesive (and television- and film-ready) collection of songs to date.

Perfect Hair contains all the usual reasons Busdriver is wonderful, just with a little more sugar baked in.

While the rest of us went to work or college or worse after graduation, Avi Buffalo hit the road, but they too spent those formative years navigating the strange cognitive duality of post-high school young adulthood, and the sad, strange, and beautiful At Best Cuckold does an awfully nice job distilling that unease into audio form.

Even more ambitious, rewarding and exciting than its predecessor, Carnival of Souls is a thrilling album that raises expectations for the trilogy's final installment to the skies.

Even if it doesn't have as much of the jagged need that sparked their best work, El Pintor is Interpol's most consistent album since Antics; fans who love the band for its pure sound will probably enjoy it more than those looking for stop-you-in-your-tracks moments.

These songs puncture the gloss, so they make the greatest first impression, but that glimmer remains the reason to get lost within Ryan Adams: his blend of song and studio craft turns this eponymous album into the equivalent of a substantive, new millennial version of the Eagles' Long Run.

Crush Songs is a slightly strange choice for O's first full-fledged solo effort. Still, this unassuming musical diary showcases many of the best things about the music she makes on her own.

Don't call it a comeback, call it a triumphant return of the conquering heroes, and next time you want to rock unapologetically, this album ought to be among the first options.

By adhering to the fidelity of a side, there's a dramatic arc within every four songs and, combined, the sum is greater than the individual parts--which is how it should be with a band.

While Goddess could have used some better editing, it still reveals glimpses of an artist who could shape the sounds of the times instead of just reflecting them.

If False Idols was the return, Adrian Thaws is the great diversification, and if being disappointed with your universally accepted classic inspires greatness like this, then Maxinquaye be damned (but only in Tricky's presence).

When you put together the sympathetic production, the strength of the songs, and the power of the performances, it adds up to another great record by a band whose members are in complete command of their thoughtful, tender, and sneakily hooky sound.

Ultimately it doesn't matter because hearing him play fresh material is a bit of a gas and certainly welcome after many years of Christmas and covers records.

The dreamy otherworldliness of Kenedy's voice transforms even the tunes that border on upbeat scrappiness into lush dream pop.

Given the atmospheric and diaphanous makeup of most of the tracks, along with titles such as "Casiopeia" and "Redshift," Whorl is more likely to enhance stargazing than to provoke movement.

Four albums in, Lateness of Dancers reveals the arrived-at maturity in Taylor's songwriting, and his ability to convey, in the first-person narratives of his protagonists, a way through the complex notions and pain of living in the world by embracing them on their own terms, with no attempt at escape.

Sometimes, the group achieves a delicate balance between the two extremes--"It Was Always You," "New Love," and the aforementioned "Feelings"--but the best moments on V are when Maroon 5 embrace the tuneful, slightly soulful adult contemporary pop band they've always been.

Whatever the reason, Seen It All: The Autobiography shakes off all the challenges of Jeezy's lesser releases and finds new inspiration from the same old rap sheet.

There are moments where Single Mothers feels like art therapy as much as music, but this album communicates its pain with intelligence and a gentle touch, and as a singer and lyricist Earle grows with each album; there are more than a few moments of brilliance on this set if you don't mind sharing a rough and lonesome road with Earle for a while.

Twenty-six albums in, Loudon Wainwright's signature is etched even more deeply into the American songsmith grain on Haven't Got the Blues (Yet).

He's building upon the past, both his own and the larger traditions of his homeland, both spiritual and actual, and that gives lullaby and... The Ceaseless Roar a bewitching depth. It's an album to get lost in.

The muted analog production meeting with cartoonish arrangements and religious sentiments leave the album feeling like some kind of pleasant soundtrack to a Christian summer camp where Van Dyke Parks and Of Montreal's Kevin Barnes are the counselors.

The whole thing succeeds as a sort of night music, and Parry's engineering team, sending the music rock-style among several different studios, gets superb results.

Nothing here is innovative or particularly startling, though, but it's all solid, and it's comforting to know that Winter went out in peace with the blues and his legacy, and most importantly, without his skills diminishing.

There's no denying that Zeus are very good at what they do, and refining their process with each album; there's no real call for false modesty when you're making albums as good as this.

Though "exciting" isn't exactly the word, there is a sense of both purpose and drive in all of Bitchin Bajas' blurry, diversely composed drone-scapes, and this album as a whole is easily their best and most carefully crafted work up until this point.

With a sound falling somewhere between low-key, late-night indie fare and a seasoned arena rock act, Dismantle and Rebuild is a strong, colorful debut and points toward even better things in the future from the Ramona Flowers.