MS MR concentrate on a sullen yet sultry mood for the bulk of Secondhand Rapture, and while that delivers several notable tracks--"Fantasy" and "Head Is Not My Home" chief among them--at times it's almost too much.

Wasner and Ehrens have made an album that honors their devotion to R&B and dance music in the best way possible, with love, respect, and a bunch of memorable jams.

For longtime fans, Cloud Room, Glass Room offers exactly you desire from PA. For those who've listened in occasionally, enjoyed what you've heard, and are seeking change in Nelson's aural aesthetic, listen elsewhere; this music wasn't made for you in the first place.

Party Intellectuals may have set the bar high, but Your Turn is definitely a worthy follow-up.

Cooper's ability to infuse a very human emotional arc into his wordless sheets of sound is a large part of what's made his body of work so captivating. Electronic webs meet with patient piano moments throughout Nightmare Ending, sometimes casting heavy shadows of fear or pain, other times offering relief from that very pain.

Pharaohs aren't inventing anything new here but what they do well is grab the best bits from all the danceable electronic music that has come before them and consolidate it into something shiny and new.

Cunningly sequenced, The Ways We Separate is exceptionally fluid and tightly bound, made for compulsive listening with no weak links.

Streetlight Manifesto delivering an album of bittersweet ska-punk that feels more grown-up than anyone could have expected the genre to be.

It might not be the grand arrival showcase that was expected but Papoose hasn't fallen off the "ones to watch" list quite yet, even when he's been on there longer than most anyone else.

Though it may puzzle initially, its substance is such that it creates a mysterious and compelling listening experience that assures one that more will be revealed.

Buying into Luhrmann's vision is always the issue, but here, the music is crafted enough, inspired enough, and deep enough that it's worth diving into without reservations.

With its immediacy, economy, cagey strength, and vulnerability, Griffin delivers these 12 songs not as gifts or statements, but as her own evidence of what is, what was, and what yet may come.

Nobody is concerned with reinterpreting the songs or surprising a listener, they just want to enjoy re-creating sounds and tunes they've loved, an attitude that's rarely alienating although it's never quite infectious, either.

Ultimately, Walking Shadows is a mature, sophisticated album that can stand head to head with the best orchestral jazz albums of any decade.

Weird Work ends up living up to its name: it's not as precious as Boeldt's previous albums, but it's not as envelope-pushing as its inspirations, and it's also some of his most accomplished, yet least immediate music.

Expect the expected with plenty of xylophones, campfire guitars, and Dawson's breathy cuteness mixing with Aesop's serious severity, but expect to be thrown as well, mostly by ideas of community and how strangers can leave lifelong impressions.

Ultimately, with More Than Just a Dream, Fitz & the Tantrums have made an even more infectious, club-ready album than Pickin' Up the Pieces, while still retaining all of the band's organic soulfulness.

While Maines' singing is the glue that holds everything together, the set's overly polished production and the scattershot curation of the material makes it feel like more like just a haphazard collection of songs than a cohesive album.

The camaraderie of the Pistol Annies cuts deep--they're a gang, encouraging the other two not to talk about Tina, praising sobriety, realizing life goes on even when love leaves--and that gives Annie Up a bruised, beautiful richness.

Time winds up a bit muddled, swinging from moments of genuine sweetness toward sharp saccharine, but even with all its flaws it's nice to hear Stewart engaged again, both as a writer and a singer.

It's more of an adept fusing of very distinct styles into something interesting and almost factory fresh, if not quite to the level of the bands they are drawing inspiration from.

The off-topic and amazing "Hamster Wheel" is here, and when that's added to all the other highlights, the album is well above worthwhile, as scattershot and frustrating as it is.

After three successful releases, this album sees Fink take stock of his life after years of touring and come to the realization that he, along with his friends and family, have long since grown up and left his much revered youth behind.

In some ways Silence Yourself doesn't provide the full Savages experience, but it offers more than enough to make it a powerful debut that suggests they'll become an even more distinctive force to be reckoned with over time.

Ultimately, if Hands was Little Boots' booty-shaking call to the dancefloor, then Nocturnes is the afterglow, post-party soundtrack for the ride home.

By turns raw and reflective, Monomania is about shaking things up; it's not as grand or cohesive as Microcastle or Halcyon Digest, but with repeated listens, its quick shifts in sound and mood feel more like different sides of the same coin than a split personality.

Cronin's second album is a step forward from his debut and shows off a guy with enough talent to step out from behind Segall's shadow and make it on his own.

For those of you already caught in the band's spider web of eternal summer, this album delivers the goods.