Sometimes, Davies' blend of hard rock and healing doesn't quite jibe--it can lose form and drift or it can hammer its points home too hard--but there's a dogged individuality to his mission that's appealing even when the music itself is not.

Both Sands and Owens are superb, technically adroit musicians who complement McBride's warm, generous bass playing at every turn on Out Here.

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

Kirchen has always been tasteful but his playing has gotten sharper over the years, which gives Seeds & Stems precision but also depth, as he knows these songs and styles inside-out yet can still find new nooks and crannies hidden deep within them.

This isn't a dogged re-creation of the past, the work of an artist concerned with painting within the lines, this is an album of celebration of groovy sounds that is pretty hard to resist.

With such careful attention to detail, The Eldritch Dark isn't just an homage to the sounds of the past, it's also a gateway to another era in metal history that, with any luck, more bands will go into and explore.

This is too unfinished and uneven to call a masterpiece, but Kaufman's loyal fan base should still check out this insightful and wonderfully weird experiment.

Personal Appeal, as inconsistent and slapdash as it is, probably serves as the most accurate overview of Moore's overwhelming back catalog of obscured freak-outs and cracked pop gems.

Without losing any of the distortion, Devine's approach is clear-headed and direct, melding the indie pop mysticism of Neutral Milk Hotel or Elliott Smith's tunesmithery with the political conscience of Billy Bragg.

The fantastically produced full-band sound serves as a lush backdrop for Devine's often political or culturally critical lyrics.

With the distractions of Flynn's burgeoning acting career and the birth of his first child, Country Mile may not have been the great creative leap forward that some fans were hoping for, but this beautifully written album stands up to anything in his catalog.

Ultimately, no matter how heated the exchanges between Martyn and his fans could be during concerts, the respect between audience and performer was total and it was loyal--the same punters who would complain the loudest would be at the very next show. It is for these people, those who knew his true worth as an artist who The Island Years was created for and will appeal to most.

Everything seems to be malfunctioning on the album, and yet, Rashad loves the genres he borrows from so much, he can't ignore the solid grip of acid house ("Acid Bit") or the sweet slide of R&B ("She a Go"). These sparking satellites all remain in their respective groove's orbit, making Double Cup footwork's most sensible and revisit-worthy album to date.

Guest shots from Paloma Faith, Emeli Sandé, Dizzee Rascal, and others make this one crowded album, but figuring out what to drop is nearly impossible as everyone hits the mark.

An album that's only predictable insofar as you know it's going to attempt to take you on a vicious, 30-minute hell ride through some of the darkest parts of the metal world.

If there's anything superfluous going on, it's simply happening too fast to worry about it, and while this means that it takes more than one listen to really take in what's going on, the album is solid enough that a second pass is a welcome proposition.

More than just musical footnotes, these reworkings add extra depth to Mount Eerie's already complex body of work.

Ultimately, Live from KCRW feels like an addendum to the larger work of Push the Sky Away, but the musical and emotional force of this music is more than strong enough to merit its release; this is a striking reminder of the excellence of Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds as a live act, and Cave's maturation into one of the most extraordinary songwriters of his day.

Semi-decent, rainy Sunday morning records are a dime a dozen, but when they connect, it's like a Bloody Mary-bruised brunch with your best friends, and Lily & Madeleine Jurkiewicz have crafted a moody gem, and one of the most achingly comforting albums of 2013.

Halo's voice is never heard--likely a relief for those who found Quarantine too unsettling--but this is about as jolly as the cover illustration, drawn by her father.

Breathy R&B vocalist Jhené Aiko fleshes out her character on Sail Out, a relaxed debut EP that suggests that this girl is on permanent vacation.

Ultimately, Some Things Never Stay the Same is a classic second album: it's not as consistent as Starting from Nowhere, but its highlights suggest Heidecker & Wood will deliver even more convincing and subtly funny songs next time.

Third time’s the charm for horrorcore rapper Hopsin, as the angry and often awful character balances his aggressive, violent vocal style with more pop and approachable music during the rewarding Knock Madness.

This isn't meant as a dismissal: Barlow has a knack for mildly ambitious piano ballads that gain strength from their hazily arty design as well as his studied melodicism.

As a bridge between that album and whatever comes next, Wish Hotel works perfectly, hinting at only the slightest changes to the formula, but with differences enough to keep things from getting stale.

Sure it's mature, soulful, and often beautiful, but it's also mostly forgettable.

It's hard not to find something to like here no matter where your tastes may lie.

This is an ambitious, cohesive effort from the Sheffield band, and its complex and spacious sound is both beautifully engaging and highly rewarding.