Its beauty is multivalent: while the music is made of constant motion, it creates an utterly still space in the listener, who can not only eventually recognize its numerous patterns emerging and dissipating, but can follow them down through various levels of consciousness as they resonate inside and outside the body.

Amphetamine Ballads is a debut that shows real promise, but if this band really wants to put the fear into the world, the first step on their reign of terror should be to hire a rhythm guitarist.

While Hard Boiled Soft Boiled's polarized presentation sometimes makes these songs seem more monotonous than they actually are, the album's highlights are on par with Odonis Odonis' previous bests.

This is a gratifying second step from one of the most exciting contemporary R&B artists to appear during the 2010s.

Arguably, it fares better as a decent Frank Black album than an anticlimactic Pixies album, and fans who can appreciate that these songs don't diminish the legacy of the band's previous music will probably enjoy it the most.

In all, Sky Swimming is a lovely, impressionistic debut that suggests Elephant are on the cusp of delivering even more.

On the whole, More Than Any Other Day is a deeply refreshing listen, bursting at the seams with joy and anger and less indebted to its long list of influences than it is an entity greater than the sum of its parts.

Even though Midnight Sun feels like a creative milestone for the band, it's clear that it's just another step in Lennon and Muhl's creative evolution, and while fans might miss it when it's gone, it's exciting to think about what these two might be seeing on the horizon.

Fans of Oneohtrix Point Never, Virginia Astley, Lars Von Trier, and even Chairlift should find Ramona Lisa's debut a rainy-day soundtrack of the highest order.

Floor are that rare band that have managed to channel a decade's worth of personal and artistic growth into evolving their sound while somehow making the whole thing feel as though it could've been released the year after their landmark debut, making Oblation an album one that not only lives up to the band's legacy, but is a meaningful contribution to it.

Supernova is unapologetically and indulgently retro; a casual listen might dismiss it as mere nostalgia. But pairing Auerbach's detailed, careful production with LaMontagne's open, expertly crafted songwriting and breezy, sensual, emotionally unburdened signing, that boundary is shattered.

Sure, the sound of Shriek may scare off people who need guitars to be the focal point of their indie rock, but for anyone with a slightly more experimental nature or anyone who likes synths and subtlety and wonderfully emotive vocals, it's a great and welcome surprise that's a brilliant step forward for Wye Oak.

Sometimes a willingness to toss off responsibility once in a while is a sure sign of maturity, and if you want to hear a golden example of this thinking in action, the Old 97's have one for you with Most Messed Up.

The loving layers of static, submerged guitar progressions, and effortless meshes of naturalistic themes and glitchy processing all play into a language of sound distinct to Fennesz and reaching some of their clearest articulations here.

This album evidences an expanded creative reach for the pair, even as it re-engages the sharp edges they displayed on earlier recordings.

Get Back isn't pretty--this is a sloppy, wet kiss of a record that leaves a little sick on you--but it's heartfelt enough to win you over and dangerous enough to wish you had told someone before you got into the car with it, which is what rock & roll in its purest form should be.

Romme's tales of woe manage to transcend the usual trappings of traditional singer/songwriter confessionalism by adopting a universal miasma, leaning more toward the dark English folk side of the chamber pop spectrum.

These tracks amuse and torment in roughly equal measure.

Dalle sounds comfortable, confident, and liberated on Diploid Love, and she gives listeners a more complete portrait of her artistry along the way.

Upon repeated listens, the sorrowful undertow of Everyday Robots becomes a comfort, a balm for moments of alienation; it's the kind of record that when you're lonely, you press play.

Shrink Dust has some truly inspired moments and fits right in with VanGaalen's building mythology.

After more than 20 records, Motorpsycho remain inexhaustible in their creativity, fully, energetically, in command of a musical vision that is boundless.

There is much to like about Green's music, but if Haul Away! is indeed part of a potential trilogy, let's hope the songwriting on her third offering outweighs its stylish ambitions.

Granular Tales is a pleasant surprise--an album that acknowledges the Woodentops' frantic glory days while offering them a way to move into the 21st century gracefully, and demonstrates how dance music can mature while still getting the party started; this doesn't exactly pick up where the Woodentops left off, but certainly finds them just where they want and need to be.

When taken together, the tracks on III provide incontrovertible evidence that 15 years after their career ambitions went up the chimney, Death continued not only to make music, but to evolve and grow as a band. Even though this music is less intense, it retains the trio's trademark sound throughout.

You don't have to love baseball to love the Baseball Project (though it clearly helps)--on 3rd, this band has made an album that listeners who love a good story with some tough guitars can like, even if they're foolish enough to prefer football.

Plague Vendor have captured the feeling of youthful defiance that spurred the genre's pioneers to action, and while their debut might not be long enough to be the soundtrack to your late-night antics, it's the perfect album to light the fuse on a night you probably won't remember in the morning.

Not easily understood as dance music, experimental music, or rock music, Enclosure considers, rejects, and reconsiders all of them on a second-to-second basis and stands as one of the more listenable of Frusciante's ever-obtuse solo albums.