He's an artist with ideas and while they sometimes pile up and crash on Cupid Deluxe, it's always a spectacular crash, and that's something worth investigating.

Rubin skillfully retains a veneer of authenticity throughout Shangri La, adhering to the Dylan in Greenwich Village vibe of the 2012 debut and never letting the electric expansion feel like exploitation, but all this care is applied to songs that are deliberately slight.

Boot! not only refines what the Thing do, it extends them into a breathtaking sphere where a Babel-like musical conversation takes place, elevating all of its singular elements into a rough, raucous, glorious whole.

Every part of Purgatory/Paradise has meaning for the band and its listeners, making it a satisfying artifact in a time when music is becoming increasingly disposable. May they ever go against the grain.

A nifty encapsulation of the group's style and attributes--the Killers cannily use the singles-centric conceit to showcase the band at their overblown best, emphasizing their arena-sized neo-new wave just slightly over their Springsteenisms

The album has a nice, gentle sway and Pickler has expertly modulated her diva moves so she's now a skillful country singer.

Given how mercurial she's been, this stylistic return may be temporary, but it's so fully realized, it's also a most welcome one.

Sweet & Hoffs identify why each of these tunes remains beloved, by audiences large or small, and the faithful, heartfelt nostalgia combined with the pair's participation in the scene makes Under the Covers, Vol. 3 the best trip down memory lane the duo has yet made.

Anyone looking for some no-frills, straight from the heart indie rock that has no time for preciousness or TV commercial-ready softness, could do much worse than Sebastien Grainger and this jaw-droppingly good album.

The overall pace, sequence, and vibe of Back to Land finds the Shjips teetering on the edge of classic rock mania with enough restraint to keep things minimal, mystical, and interesting throughout.

When the dialogue is combined with those wonderful performances, On Air: Live at the BBC, Vol. 2 helps paint a portrait of the Beatles just reaching the peak of their powers.

Usually, Inside Llewyn Davis is straight satire, though, as it concentrates on the titular character's channeling of Von Ronk and, as such, has no intention of treating the music cavalierly; it winds up as something unusual for the Coens: an homage that comes from a place of warmth, a salute so loving it's hard to deny the affection.

Ultimately, while Salute retains all of Little Mix's infectious, teen-friendly ingredients, it reveals a new recipe for fans whose palates have matured right along with the band.

The soulfulness and melancholy of these songs make them special among Tellier's body of work, giving more depth to Confection than might be expected.

The concept is artful and logical, yet ARTPOP never insinuates or settles in the subconscious; it always assaults, determined to make an impression even when all it has to say is that it doesn't have much to say.

While it may lack some of the focus of its predecessor, it retains every bit of its oddball charm.

Funny thing is, most of the best moments on MM LP2 are just as angry, and just as irresponsible, but like "Closet," this is the tortured soul and self-reliance ninja known as Eminem at his very best.

The result is terrific, a record that builds upon the group's legacy and is easily the equal of anything the band did in the '90s.

There's nothing here that screams big hit–-but it's something better: the work of a diva who is comfortable in her own skin.

The appropriately titled Tender Madness, more or less backs that notion [go big or go home] up with 12 emotionally charged slabs of Foster the People- and Killers-infused highway anthems, of both the fist-pumping and soul-searching varieties, that flirt with mainstream architecture yet retain enough of a ramshackle, post-slacker luster to appeal to fans of Weiss' previous outfit.

Fans of BP will no doubt delight in this masterful set, while newcomers will experience their brand of mind-melding consciousness expansion en masse.

While these kinds of weird departures would be hard for any other band to pull off, Tres Cabrones shows that, even after 30 years, the Melvins are still as brash as ever, and the album feels like a fitting way for the band to ring in a big anniversary with an old friend who was there at the very beginning.

This ultimately winds up as one of Avril's livelier and better albums; it's all about the good times, no matter how temporary or illusionary they may be.

In its own way, it's some of his strangest music, and might appeal more to fans who appreciate his willingness to try anything once than those expecting a repeat of his previous album.

The Coincidentalist is one of Gelb's most realized efforts; despite its relaxed, airy presentation, it's musically and lyrically provocative, as poetic, strange, and mysterious as the desert itself.

To be fair, the band still sounds like they could break into "Breathe" at any moment, but there's a sense of adventure and a vulnerability to Antiphon that suggests that this latest incarnation of the group is more interested in what's beyond the Dark Side of the Moon than it is standing in its shadow.

By many measures, Blunt's richest and best collection to date.

Cut Copy may have left behind the monochromatic brilliance of their early work, but the explosion of colors they've added like Jackson Pollock on a bender has only made their growth more interesting and enriching.