More than any other Jill Scott album--each one is either nearly or well over an hour in length--its impact would likely deepen with some trimming and resequencing. Nonetheless, there's enough high-quality content to sustain Scott's status as one of the most unique and powerful voices in R&B.

This is the album where it all changed, as the one they call Young Sinatra comes into his own and proves his nearly perfect debut was no isolated fluke.

With Mosey, Daniel Romano leaves no doubt that he's got the talent to bring us something worth hearing regardless of the approach he takes, and if the sound of this set is something of a surprise, the quality is certainly consistent with Romano's best work.

Ohio Players isn't the most frantic celebration the Black Keys have delivered, but more than enough of it will get your body moving that it qualifies as a success.

Pay The Devil is at the crossroads of country, blues and soul. In his voice is the authority to bring them together.

Koushik has a few contemporaries doing something similar (Nobody, Four Tet, Caribou), but apart from Caribou's Andorra, none of them has come up with an album as good overall as Out My Window.

Certainly The Mystery of Heaven is a standalone recording and is to be enjoyed on its own.

Palme doesn't mince words; its pleasures are meticulously crafted and perfectly executed, and they succeed or fail based only on which way the listener falls in regards to Arnalds idiosyncratic voice, much like Joanna Newsom's.

On The Deepest Lake, they deliver music that's thoughtful, imaginative, and sensuous in all the best ways, and this album is a joy for listeners with a taste for sonic adventure.

Permo is a fine work by a band finding its feet; a rousing rumble through the wilds of Scottish pop; and the kind of record lovers of knotty guitars, deadpan (but deep) emotions, and undersold (but undeniably lasting) melodies should recognize and embrace like an old friend in new clothing.

Throughout, the 400 Unit, specifically Amanda Shires, who provides soaring harmonies and some truly emotive violin work, adds considerable sonic heft to the proceedings, and help to imbue Ritter's workmanlike folk-rock narratives with the kind of studio finesse that sometimes eludes him when left to his own devices.

In its amorphous flow and stately pace, In Ferneaux is a little less immediate than some of Blanck Mass' previous music, but its fully realized, cathartic musical journey is just as powerful.

Wild Onion makes a huge impact from beginning to end, and serves notice to all the bands out there who think they are playing rock & roll the way it should be played that there are some new kids on the scene who can show them a thing or ten.

Flockaveli has enough hooks and attitude to keep those bottles poppin' all night long, and whether or not you remember any of it the next day, it does serve its purpose.

There's a sense of rollicking craziness throughout, some busting out, some swaggering boogie breakdowns.

At times, it's tempting to wonder if Blank Realm would sound even better if they focused more, but Go Easy is so likable that it would be a shame to sacrifice any of the band's charm in a quest for perfection.

As per usual, the band has little interest in settling into any specific genre, incorporating bits of noise rock and black, sludge, and prog metal into the mix whenever they see fit, but one thing Whatever Forever does do consistently is melt your face off which, in the end, is probably a good thing for the earth.

The Blow's most self-assured, thought-provoking, and exciting music yet.

While some of his eccentricities can seem affected. Perhaps these stumbles are the side effect of an artist dedicated to capturing all the mess of the modern world, and even if there are moments that grate or confound, there's still something invigorating about an artist who refuses to sit still.

With Condon's warm quaver and bevy of brass instruments, acoustic and electric guitars, electronic and acoustic drums, accordion, and mix of pianos, organs, and synthesizers including modular synths gathered under a production ethos that dials up already colorful arrangements to Technicolor spectacle.

Survival's unguarded emotions -- the joy in creating a world in which to thrive, the pain endured along the way -- radiate an honesty that's all the more striking because it's so rare.

Life on Earth increases the anticipation for the artist's second album without diluting what has preceded it.

The bottom line is that this 14th proper album of hers combines nuanced performances and succinct writing like none other.

Something about I Am Jordan feels a bit moderated, because even though it's a fun, celebratory record, it doesn't always hit the ecstatic highs that it's shooting for. Still, even if it isn't chock-full of wall-to-wall bangers, it's certainly an inspired effort that charts Jordan's growth as an artist and as a person.

One-Armed Bandit dazzles early on... Later portions of the album are larded with so many graceless, attention-deficit hazards that it’s unknown exactly what the band (or is that “groop”?) was attempting to accomplish.

Ce is an enjoyable, finely crafted, and elegantly executed album, but at the same time very far from Caetano's best.

By making such a decisive shift in direction, CTE wind up dampening the squalls of White Stripes, Strokes, and Pixies that defined their first decade of records, but that change also emphasizes how the group are at heart pop-pastiche artists, favoring style and sound over a finely honed song.

Allo Darlin' is most reminiscent of these artists' earlier, scrappier efforts, but the sophistication is there, most crucially, in Morris' songs, which strike just the right balance of clever and heartfelt, wittily specific, and broadly relatable.