Recorded live in the studio with Jay Ruston (Steel Panther, Anthrax, the Donnas), the sprawling 15-track set, which clocks in at just over an hour, can feel a little unruly, but there's more than enough meat here to make a proper sandwich.

New cuts like "Real Love" and "Velvet" add depth to the album, and suggest there's more to the band than skillful pastiche.

Regardless of a stumble or two, Asking Alexandria is well worth a listen. While The Black was a passable offering at a time when it seemed like it would be a permanent arrangement, this reunion simply feels right.

As fine as Didn't It Rain was, This Too Shall Light better illustrates the diversity and power of Helm's abundant talent.

Few bands have the courage to trust fully in it and/or in their ability to not only maintain but give heart and texture to it, but Cave do, and the result is riveting. Allways is their warmest-sounding record to date, and its Delphic charms are a pleasure to get lost in.

Guitar slayers notwithstanding, Nobody Told Me is a hallmark Mayall date, chock-full of great songs and performances that underscore his considerable (and well-deserved) reputation.

Shifting perspectives as it changes colors, Deluxe Hotel Room is proudly, almost defiantly urban; the songs are concerned with a decaying relationship and the production is sophisticated, purposely blurring lines between styles and eras.

This is not a straight-up electronic record, nor does it resemble the polyrhythmic Afro-pop confections the Atlas Mountains have become known for. Instead, Marry has crafted a more personal and cohesive pop album with an engagingly homespun feel that is quite refreshing to listen to.

As ever, the band's music finds common ground in varying styles and coheres into a singular whole, coming together with a purpose to uplift and celebrate.

A welcome evolution from the debut, Astro Tough's lingering inconsistency is part of the fun.

W isn't as rousing as its predecessor, but it may be an even richer album; in its own way, it's just as audacious.

Songs like "18 Wheeler" and the relationship laundry list "Boys (That I Dated in High School)" are surprising winners on an album that feels like it probably should be written off.

Like the previous album, Volume 2 would suffer under the weight of its own pastiche if it weren’t so darn endearing, filled as it is with call-and-response vocals, studio reverb, sweeping orchestrations, and other bygone tricks of the trade.

Like each of their previous releases, Making a New World is an ambitious, original, and exquisitely crafted work, full of rich details and compelling songs that translate the past into modern new shapes.

It's a good-time record designed for daylight and, after the murky Turn Blue and its ensuing hiatus, it's refreshing to hear the Black Keys step out of the dark and into the sunshine.

Departure Lounge has forged an enchanting record to tune in, turn on, and drop into.

Final Straw is another strong slab of emotion and invigorating energy from a solid band that mixes its influences into an always heady sonic libation.

If anything, Clones puts an end to any thought that the duo randomly selects a track from their beat bank when collaborating, since it ably demonstrates how their skills can adapt to any conceivable personality.

Bianchi may be as gloomy as ever, but after moving from California to Texas and from Tiger Style to Mush Records, Her Space Holiday maintains its lush IDM-powered indie pop.

It's filled with sophisticated yet welcoming changes in texture, dynamic, and form/genre that seem effortless, not forced or idiosyncratic for its own sake.

With songs this strong, it's an easy album to keep coming back to.

The Diary of J Dilla might not rival its maker's best output, but it's a pivotal and illuminating chapter, even when heard out of sequence. Just as importantly, it fulfills the wish of a master musician.

No matter how unexpected the combinations, OUÏ is always utterly charming, and one of Camille's finest reinventions of tradition.

It's a hopeful end to an album torn between the pain of loss and the celebration of the times they shared.

Sub Verses offers such a disciplined sense of exploration, multivalent nuance, and commitment in its production and performance; it stands out in an already very distinguished catalog.

Blue Lights on the Runway is one of those rare albums that you can pretend to like for its alt-credibility while secretly just enjoying it for the hooks.

On Falling Off the Sky, the four individuals make strong, intelligent, and well-crafted pop music that's significantly less wiry and more thoughtful and mature (for lack of a better word) than the records they made in the 1980s.

Ultimately, III is some of Föllakzoid's most confident work yet, and a testament to their ability to be heavy and atmospheric at the same time.