The Switch serves as a potent reminder that experimental music isn't always cerebral. Transfixing, haunting, and lingering, this is some of Body/Head's most emotionally eloquent music.

Entertaining castoffs, but not his best work by far.

The album borders on monochromatic at times (possibly because there are no songs by Graham Lewis, who provided some of Red Barked Tree and Change Becomes Us' finest tracks), yet its subtle subversions are thoroughly Wire, and thoroughly befitting the band at this stage in its career.

Crow hasn't been this free or fine since "Sheryl Crow," but there is an emotional directness on Detours that makes this a progression, not a retreat.

While Long Enough to Leave may lack some of the punch and energy of previous releases, it shows The Mantles developing their own sound and the record grows more and more powerful with each play.

It's a stark, beautiful recording that hopefully proves something to both Lynne and Moorer: That what's here is a new beginning and that there is much more to explore.

Magic Pony Ride is more comforting than challenging, but it's still highly enjoyable, providing a unique view on family life from an artist who has remained inventive for several decades.

While those already enamored with McCombs' lyrical approach and subdued songwriting might find more of immediate value here than the uninitiated, there's a lot to sift through, even for fans, and it might be difficult to keep focus through the entire sometimes befuddling set.

Fans who were wondering if Ward's mainstream successes would yield a stylistic sea change can rest easy, as his signature, sepia-tone demeanor, for better or for worse, remains steadfast.

Meat + Bone may not restore faith in reunions in general, but it does prove that this burly trio has plenty of swagger and sloppy rock and roll left in them.

It's an album only an old pro could make and it's one of the best this ever-reliable singer has ever done.

Rooster Rag doesn't stray too far from the path; it stays right on track, is relatively lean, and amply illustrates all of Little Feat's enduring charms.

For all its expansiveness and ambition, Medicine Man is expertly produced and sequenced; the Bamboos have not only retained their identity, they've created something so passionate, warm, and immediate, it's almost impossible not to be seduced.

If 8Ball always seemed more moonshine than fine wine, Life's Quest suggests he can still get better with age and go down smooth when you let him mellow.

The continuing work of Mika Vainio--especially given his longtime association with Touch for a variety of releases--has been at once reliable and sometimes quite surprising, with a certain restlessness that has served him well in his various explorations in sound. Fe3O4: Magnetite continues this.

With their ever-expanding arsenal of masterfully crafted musical traditions, they prove once more to refuse to be anything less than what they are: one of the most explorative and inexhaustibly creative bands on the planet.

Among the Grey songs drift quite naturally into and out of one another, creating a dreamy, labyrinthine, beguiling, listening experience.

All-Amerikkkan Bada$$ is the sound of a young rapper finding a voice and higher purpose, an exciting and powerfully insightful statement.

For all the varnish Feldmann applied, Hurry Up and Wait still sounds like the Dune Rats, which is good news for all concerned, except perhaps whoever bankrolled the sessions.

Spinning Coin work hard to expand their sound in interesting ways, and the end result of their efforts is an album that's challenging, bracing, and almost defiantly, certainly thrillingly, unique.

While his observations on anxiety are astute, much of the record is given over to the kind of harmless romantic synth pop that does little to distinguish itself among the deluge of similarly smooth pillow talk scattered across the genre. Not quite as left-field as it wants to be, Salvat's follow-up still offers a reasonable amount of pop appeal.

If you want to hear Lucero kick out the jams, When You Found Me will not be your cup of poison, but if you want to hear a great American band bear their souls with fearless grace, this is a must.

Listening to Dylan lead these groups through a loose rendition of Harry Belafonte's "Jamaica Farewell," an extended, almost funky jam on "Long Black Veil," a friendly boogie through "Matchbox," and competing versions of Jimmy C. Newman's Cajun country stomp "Alligator Man" is a hoot, plus there's something almost touching in hearing Bob tentatively sing Paul McCartney's "Yesterday" on the same session where Harrison jammed. Nothing major, then, but the modest pleasures of 1970 are certainly worthwhile.

While much of the album is taken up by experimental mood pieces like these, there's also a significant number of sprawling, progressive tracks.

It's honestly admirable that the Melvins were willing to take a big risk with an album like Five Legged Dog, but the finished product fails more than it succeeds.

Their formula hasn't coagulated yet, and the subtle changes to their sound mark a well-timed soft progression for the group.

Lombardo has complete control over the entire musical picture. This control, combined with ambitious stylistic explorations, keeps an album that's primarily comprised of solo drum performances engaging and dynamic as it travels through its various pockets of intensity and calm.

Highlighted by nuanced ballads, a certain amount of sass, and a dramatic title track with arena rock-ready climaxes, it features production by Alexander 23. His approach also includes touches of alt-R&B stylings on songs like "Poison Poison" that help distinguish Rapp's Beyoncé-informed mix of vulnerable and confident contemporary pop.