Perkins has always carried the torch of vintage Americana, and he covers all his bases here.

Even if The Apple and the Tooth is more a summation of where Bibio was in 2009 than another bold step forward, it's still a very enjoyable look back on his artistic growth that year.

Cyrus has always sounded older than her years, and as she leaves her teens, that's a good thing--especially since The Time of Our Lives shows her music is catching up to her pipes.

All or Nothing is a strong U.S. debut for this Akon-meets-Chris Brown-styled singer, one that takes advantage of his suave back catalog and the hip new possibilities now possible via Cash Money.

They've built up a new Holopaw around them, expanding their sound in the process.

McKeown's in fine voice throughout and the backing players add subtle polish to her finely constructed tunes. Her fluid vocals remain the centerpiece of the album, while her lyrics reveal the heart of a poet and the wisdom of a soul wise beyond her years.

The production (a return engagement from Tucker Martine) remains relatively economical throughout, leaving plenty of room for Thao's distinctive warble/weep to unfold its tales of passion spent and soured.

Regardless of whether or not the band lost whatever career momentum their debut generated, as a piece of music, Three Fact Fader fully delivers on the promise that was left hanging in the air for so long.

Stronger with Each Tear is a very good Blige album, if not quite a classic.

The California-bred Hoop does indeed have plenty of additional idiosyncratic ideas to offer, not just lyrically but musically, on her second album, Hunting My Dress.

The resulting tunes are lush, but few are truly dense, and White Water's biggest asset is its ability to wield such a large sound without replacing the woodsy, cozy feel of Church's solo performances.

It's striking stuff--definitely not easy listening, but well worth the effort, even if it feels like a slightly lopsided affair, with the final four tracks overshadowed by one terrifically effective and truly inventive epic.

There are no wasted notes anywhere on July Flame, neither in Martine's production nor Veirs' tightly written (but still expressionistically poetic) compositions.

It’s evident that hits--more specifically, appealing to younger listeners-- is the goal....Sex Therapy, however, enlists Snoop Dogg, Jay-Z, the Game, Kid Cudi, and Nicki “Stick shift the ding-a-ling” Minaj--not to mention Estelle and Jazmine Sullivan, both of whom contribute excellent background vocals on their respective appearances.

No question about it, though, Delphic are at their best when they're in the studio with Pearson. His production wizardry is a joy to behold on Acolyte.

Unexpected simply feels like a leap more than a step.

Don’t bother unless you can stand a healthy helping of sleaze, because this flashy party is for adult fan club members, the ones who don’t mind Wayne the show-off or Wayne the trashy smart-aleck.

Streamlined, confident, and cohesive, Behave Yourself finds Cold War Kids getting their groove back.

Be Set Free isn't a game-changing album so much as it confirms that Langhorne Slim's talent can work within a wider framework than he's used in the past and still honor his gifts, and it's an impressive, pleasurable work.

By far his most listenable and fully realized work since 1999’s mammoth 69 Love Songs, Realism feels slight because it is. It’s hard to hear someone so adept with a poison pen preen instead of brood, but it’s also rewarding.

While Campfire Songs isn’t nearly as dense or kinetic as Animal Collective’s later work would be, it shows off their penchant for layered harmony and experimental song structures, which makes for a fine piece of atmospheric headphone listening.

Though this emotional nakedness is an unusual move after Made in the Dark pushed Hot Chip to a new level of attention and acclaim, it also shows they’re in it for the long haul.

The bedroom numbers like “Make U Feel Alright” with Kango Slim work just as well, balancing polish and pimp attitude with skill, and while the social commentary found on Reality Check is missed, there’s the overall feeling that Juvy isn’t ready or willing to deal with heavy topics at this point.

Sadly, this time out, the band have put aside the wonderfully corny synthesizers they used on the last record in favor of a 100-percent organic approach that fits their bearded poets of the mountain image.

On their sophomore effort, they stick very close to the formula of their debut: a slew of mid- and uptempo love songs, a sad ballad, and a couple of rocked-up good-time tunes--all self-written with some help from some of Nashville’s most respected writers.

Blood of Man sounds like that album's [2004's "Use Your Voice"] companion piece, merging the same traces of folk, roots rock, and small-town storytelling with a simple increase in volume.

No Hope, No Future doesn’t always play to the band’s proven strengths, but it shows that Good Shoes are a thoroughly independent, even contrary band that's unafraid of change, even when it’s difficult.

Horace Andy and Hope Sandoval front some impressive productions, and Damon Albarn's "Saturday Come Slow" is one of his best post-Blur features (including Gorillaz), but overall Heligoland lacks the majesty and might of classic Massive Attack.