Champs deliver a handful of cinematic anthems, including "Desire" and "The Balfron Tower," which, much like the duo's island home, are at once breezy and haunting.

No Sad Songs is a quintessentially solid and affective offering from the band, and with the continued rise of indie folk stylings well into the 21st century, the Nick Drake-inspired approach they've been loyal to since the '80s might not be embraced by the masses but should at least find itself in fashion.

As a whole, Sun Leads Me On is a far more confident-sounding animal than 2012's Dark Eyes, with the band coming off less like a hastily assembled, albeit talented, group of strangers, and more like a road-tested, yet well-rested army of four.

There are plenty of bands doing roughly the same thing as Ringo Deathstarr, but there are few who do it as well as they do. Pure Mood is proof of that.

[Jocie Adams'] musical eclecticism gives Arc Iris a leg up as they vanquish trendiness in favor of free-flowing exploration.

He still seems to jot down his thoughts in a stream-of-consciousness manner without trying to force them to rhyme, and he hasn't particularly made more of an effort to sing in tune, but his songs are still a joy to listen to because of his easygoing manner and casual, occasionally funny lyrics.

Although not for the casual music listener, the song ["Legacy of Neglect"] and the album work not only because of Leonard's good melodic and dramatic instincts, but because he is equally charismatic with both quiet acoustic song and outraged, off-balance rock. In this way, the album's riveting album rock-slash-exasperated art rock is reminiscent of figures like Bowie and Reed while remaining completely idiosyncratic.

It's hard to believe it took so long for Iron & Wine to document their live incarnation, but it is easy to believe that now that they finally have, it's as sophisticated, burnished, and emotionally true as this.

We Sang, Therefore We Were may have been born out of restlessness and anger, but it's also a remarkably fun dispatch from one of indie music's most inventive musical minds.

It's a more lighthearted chapter in the ongoing Papa M story, and some of its moments are among the most enjoyable in the project's entire catalog.

If you already know where you stand on this guy's music, then you already know whether or not it's worth your time.

Going Down To The River … To Blow My Mind works well enough that one hopes they'll change their minds about this being the end of their trilogy.

If you share Joe Jackson's irritation with the world (especially the United Kingdom) at the present moment, you're likely to enjoy it, but despite its musical excellence, it's hard not to feel that it wears out its welcome by the time it runs through its 35 minutes.

It is an unabashedly lush, deeply textured pop record that makes no apologies for its radio-friendliness or its adornments.

The result of this collaboration is a set of sophisticated, textured psychedelic soul and jazzy synth pop with no shortage of elegant grooves and melodies. The new sound may be a surprise, but it could also be the sound of summer.

This is the kind of debut that lurches into the grungy excess befitting trashcan fires, anachronistic outsider idolization, and massive Feeder collections assembled inside Southern Californian suburbs.

It’s by no means a landmark, and it’s not close to their best; it’s just well-done.

Where You Want to Be is definitely a solid album -- especially considering that it was recorded so soon after half the band was replaced -- but crafting something a little more unique would take Taking Back Sunday's music that much farther.

On Eating Us, Black Moth Super Rainbow prove that they can grow up a little without growing boring, and still deliver exactly the same amount of unhealthy sweetness as before.

Sunset/Sunrise shows that with a bit of judiciously placed accompaniment and a more ambitious use of the studio, the duo can add depth and gravity to music that was fine stuff to begin with.

Evans' fans will eat this up as welcome return to form. However, a more critical listen will reveal this set as a concession to Nashville's ever more restrictive, formulaic studio system.

Much like Prodigy's return to their rave-era prime on Invaders Must Die, it feels a touch forced, but what remains clear is that the Hartnolls still have the ability to make magic more than 20 years after their debut.

Mature Themes just reveals more levels with more listening.

Between the airless coldness of lunar ambience and the waving freak flag of their most high-power jams, White Hills' voice becomes more defined and more deliberate on this set of songs.

Gary McClure knows how to write a strong melody and a great hook, and he's no slouch on guitar; those are gifts that would serve him well under any circumstances, but on American Wrestlers he's shown that he can make a great record with any old junk at his disposal, and quite simply, that's just what he's done here

The duo's work here complements what they've done beside Chrisette Michele, Alicia Keys, Tamia, and especially Elle Varner.

For anyone who appreciates the original, this offers a deeper revelation of the process in and context of Reid's classic.

While sharp musical contrasts may be nothing new for Odonis Odonis, they've never sounded as meaningful as they do here. Post Plague is some of their most urgent -- and satisfying--music to date.