Dirty Side Down is a tad long, but when the songs are this good, WP gets a pass. This is easily the band's finest studio offering in over a decade.

All in all, Stay Home is a step up from the Beets' debut, though it's hard not to imagine they're going to have to face the choice of either learning to play or hitting the creative wall some time in the future.

Those looking for a direct story of how Beanie earned three years in the clink will be somewhat disappointed, but these chunks of insight into the man's turmoil -- and the couple party tunes that go with them -- add up to one hell of an album.

There's no precedent for an album that worships a no-show so hard on one hand, flips the bird to hip-hop protocol with the other, and knowingly refuses to push things forward, even flaunts it.

From the first notes of their sophomore LP Dismania, the grime, depravity, desperation, and sometimes fun of [New York City] come through in screaming waves.

On the whole, while the album lacks a certain distinctiveness (Lauber's vocals mostly blend, too), there's strength in its solid core and easygoing vibe.

Of the pair, Vol. 1 is the most interesting lyrically, but it's uneven--even boring at times--musically, particularly in the last third.

The album taps out at 25 minutes, but it's urgent enough that it clearly makes its point within that time frame.

Brotherhood's track listing could easily be quarreled with, but it includes most of the approved highlights from each album, early or old, innovative or orthodox.

Even if it's not as cohesive as Mahjongg's earlier work, it's easily some of the band's boldest, most confident music.

This one doesn't leave you feeling hungry or stuffed, just fully satisfied.

Get In finds Rehberg stretching the Pita sound into more graceful territory, but he hasn't lost his flair for the unexpected that made his work during the '90s and 2000s so visionary.

Despite the flares of inventive arranging and limber songwriting that flash from time to time, Boo Boo is the first Toro y Moi album that doesn't work overall, the first to feel like product instead of artistic expression.

For an album that thinks big, Escapades avoids being a sprawling mess, as the songs are incredibly focused and immediate, never trying to stuff too many ideas in, and never overstaying their welcome. It's far more mature than the harsh electro-house of Waters of Nazareth-era Justice, but it feels like a return to that level of creative inspiration.

While the songs themselves are more uneven, Pillow Queens' sound is fully formed, with tracks including opener "Be by Your Side" hitting on all cylinders.

Equally poised and unpredictable, Some Like It Hot's poetic, mischievous, raucous, and heartbroken songs come close to a definitive statement from a band in constant motion.

[An] impressively diverse album.

Often, country memories can get maudlin, but Willie and Merle are filled with good humor here and the pair often strike a delicate balance of fun and sweet melancholy which gives Django and Jimmie a soulful lift.

Cause I Sez So is clearly David Johansen's album, and it's a great showcase for one of the great rock singers of his generation. But is it the New York Dolls? Well, that's what it says on the front cover, and if the sound is different, the "Whatsit to You?" spirit of this set is as keen as ever, and that counts for a lot with these guys.

Fin Eaves' mix doesn't have anything in it you haven't heard before, but you've never heard the elements put together like this before, either. It's a powerful, massively textured thing whose heavily treated grooves (yes, grooves) are drenched in ambiguous, deeply poetic beauty.

This record is both a note-perfect summing up and a great introduction to the Young Guv universe.

It's hard to tell what Smerz are going for on this perplexing mess of an album, but there's clearly a lot of potential to their ambitious fusion of modern classical, R&B, and experimental club styles -- they just haven't made their vision clear yet.

By the end of Anti, Rihanna may not arrive at any definitive conclusions about her art but she's allowed herself to be unguarded and anti-commercial, resulting in her most compelling record to date.

The album is full of the complex love songs and working-class vignettes that McKenna is so good at... [filled] with McKenna's usual grace and subtle poetry.

With that as an unavoidable comparison point and baseline, as can be heard again on songs like the title track, Time Travel is still a pleasant album, where what comes out more are the moments of variation on the form than the form itself.

The ambient stuff is nice, too -- different than what Fruit Bats fans are used to, perhaps, but proof that Johnson knows how to stretch his legs without losing his balance.

Covering such a cherished and well-respected body of work is a brave move, and while Gilmore was always going to struggle to make these iconic songs her own, John Wesley Harding is a valiant attempt to respectfully add a slightly modern sheen to the 40-year-old record, which should silence any Dylan aficionados waiting to cry foul.

The nostalgia and artistry will take you back and warm your Coogi-covered heart.