Causers of This sounds like a dance-pop mixtape plunged underwater -- it's all smeary synthesizers, chopped-up dance beats, and washes of reverb.

Eyelid Movies is a nostalgia trip at heart, but it isn’t a lifeless pastiche by any means. The amount of care the duo gives to the arrangements, the subtle and successful blending of influences, and above all, the high quality of the songs and performances, mean that the record is a success on its own terms.

Truth in advertising, Another Round varies little from Jaheim’s earlier efforts, but for the returning listener, that’s the selling point.

With its driving guitars and massive choruses, The Constant is yet another highly catchy album from Story of the Year that will easily live up to their fans' expectations while making converts out of those unfamiliar with them.

The Golden Archipelago, a toothy, epic examination of island life, both physical and metaphysical, is enigmatic to say the least.

Even if Paper Dolls isn’t as ambitious or immediately satisfying as Structure and Cosmetics, it offers plenty of small pleasures for Brunettes fans, who still walk the line between cheery and melancholy in their own unique way.

At its best, these songs have the feel of an intimate live performance; at their worst, they’re lovely, but exhausting. Have One on Me is quite a technical achievement, but since Newsom has proven she can do just about anything, next time she shouldn’t try to do everything.

The result is a frustrating listening experience that makes you wish that the change in their sound didn't prove to be so fleeting. That being said, if you've stood beside the band for this long, there's nothing here to make you sorry that you did.

The Meat of Life might sound like "another Clem Snide album," but considering that it wasn't so long ago that it looked like this band was over and done, getting another serving of what these musicians do so well is more than welcome even if it doesn't break much new ground.

As fringe collections go, it is worthwhile, especially for fans of Mathematics. Just don’t be surprised when the faithful turn against the set: they already have too many “pretty good” comps to choose from.

Ironically, these individual pieces don’t add up to an overall masterpiece, possibly because the narrative is convoluted and strained, getting in the way of the pure musical flow, but also because it’s hard not to shake the feeling that this is a transitional effort, pointing toward a day when Damon Albarn will feel no need to front a band, not even in a cartoon guise.

The production, songs, and vocals are all perfectly in tune with each other, and the band has crafted a pretty impressive return to form. Permalight is still a far way from the bedroom origins of the group, but it’s also far from being a Coldplay knock-off, and anyone who’s been a fan from the start can certainly appreciate that.

Genuine Negro Jig is perfectly recorded, balanced between the best sound this century can deliver and the rustic, throwback feel of an old-time string band in action at a picnic, dance or rent party in the '30s. That’s the accomplishment here.

There are moments of impossible beauty (“Owl of Love”), dense, but structured dissonance (“Adages of Cleansing”), and of course, whimsical, classically minded, indie folk (“On the Edge”), that when consumed all together, feel like a perfectly executed mash-up of Aaron Copland, Dead Can Dance, Bill Frisell, and Shirley Collins.

The Optimist won’t make anyone forget Fantastic Playroom, but it does work as a nice complement and shows that the group may have some staying power.

Producer Carson Chamberlain's new penny polish and Corbin's traditional twang balance each other out nicely. Corbin's debut is jam-packed with the sounds of yesterday.

In Leo’s case, it’s somehow comforting that every few years he’ll be along to inspire and cajole his fans with his dedication and passion. The Brutalist Bricks will let no one down in that regard.

Call it Sigur Rós meets Supertramp in the end, perhaps most especially on the penultimate number, "Light Up the Night," with its keyboard-led opening moving into a slow sweet-sounding swagger of an arrangement thanks again to a big beat and guitar chug, but the signs of that kind of sonic grandness, if not full on grandiosity, abound.

Though it's a little perverse for the band to bury its explosive moments, it proves that there's more to Past Lives than rehashing the Blood Brothers' legacy. They're still finding their footing on Tapestry of Webs, but they're going interesting places.

The Whigs absorbed every rock trend of the '90s, consciously taking in the cool stuff while the mainstream tunes seeped in, and here they turn In the Dark into something that's a guilty pleasure for anyone raised on grunge.

For the most part, though, the songs are spilled out softly in McRae's high, honey-coated voice, and are centered around humble-but-plaintive acoustic guitar and piano patterns. This proves to be just the right mode for a guy whose worldview is rather less than cheery.

Goulding is able to take the best parts of all of her contemporaries' styles and make them her own, coating everything in the breathy flutter of her voice.

With songs like “All You Can Hide Inside” revealing a flair for rough-around-the-edges ballads, Be Brave shows that the Strange Boys are growing--not in a self-consciously “mature” way, but enough to make them more than just purveyors of raffish garage rock.

While Two Door Cinema Club don't yet have the flawless style or emotional weight of some of their influences, Tourist History just gets catchier and more stylized as it goes on, offering a promising foundation for the band to embellish with even more personality next time.

By and large, European strikes a nice balance between genuine and theatrical, shambling and shiny.

Law of Large Numbers won’t sneak up and hit you over the head, but it will sneak up on you.

You & Me makes sure his six-string gifts remain in the forefront of the listener's mind. And while the reigning mood of the album is one of warm, Southern California breezes and sun-splashed sojourns to the Pacific Ocean, other influences pop up along the way, particularly a fondness for British folk-rock.

Few songs from either record match the bombast of his work with Broken Social Scene, perhaps, but Collett’s albums are better viewed as part of a whole, and Rat A Tat Tat strengthens the country-fried side of his solo personality.