This more open, organic process comes through on the songs, providing E and company with a refreshing amount of creative freedom after the relative confinement of doing a conceptual three-album trilogy.

She's turned in her most mature work and coincidentally some of her most enjoyable.

This classic hard rock production touches every song on IV, and the first half of the record is composed of songs that seem tailored to fit the post-metal sensibilities of the record's sonic texturing.

Lighter and more colorful than North, News from Nowhere begins sleepily and then flits between spacious and cluttered moments, often within one song.

On Afterman: Descension, Coheed and Cambria prove that while they may be more accessible than ever before, it's not for lack of adventure or musical ambition, it's because of them.

Regions of Light and Sound of God is intriguing and quirky; its songs often pose big questions inside informal, loosely developed pop song structures that are instantly accessible yet whose lyrics are often metaphysically elusive.

On Triple Beams' marriage of the Dead Milkmen's irreverence and Wire's brilliant, repetitive simplicity makes the album one that will definitely scratch the itch for any punk fan, and will make a quick fan out of anyone not already on board with Tyvek's grinding punk goodness.

A timely holiday stocking stuffer for the aging mosh pit veteran in your family, but not exactly mandatory listening for everyday metal heads.

The occasional burst of incredible, disposable pop goes a long way, but sadly not long enough to make Christopher an entirely engaging experience.

McCombs and crew have painted a portrait of endless highways, ghost towns, and sunburnt moments of ecstatic possibility.

Short-sighted as the party-hearty concept may be, the unbridled enthusiasm makes the album a helluva lot of fun even for those who have trouble relating to wasted youth.

While overall, I Am Kloot's sixth album reads like a heartfelt and stylized ten-chapter celebration of classic pop--with the opening half consolidating Bramwell's position as one of England's most unjustifiably overlooked songwriters--it's only a minor disappointment that four of the final five chapters included here sail dangerously close to pastiche.

Based on the soul-satisfying evidence of Feeling Mortal, one can only hope there are many more.

Compared to that album's [Sirens' Call] half-hearted songwriting and rote sound, Lost Sirens positively shines--leading to the customary questions of why this material didn't replace several, if not many, songs on the original Sirens' Call.

Some of his finest and widest-ranging music yet, In Focus? offers charming proof that a more accessible approach doesn't necessarily spell creative death for a musician, especially one as freewheeling as Tokumaru.

Light and pleasant, Run for Cover is also backed by a band that knows how to accompany all this vocal loveliness.

The endlessly bending array of guitar tones that make up Yeah Right still sounds raw and unrefined, trying to lock its unwieldy buzzing and blurring in with Everton and Garcia's gift for pop melodies. While the record isn't without its moments, these warring elements often do more to obscure than complement one another.

The way Buke and Gase pull together no wave's sense of texture with dance-punk's ear for rhythm is impressive enough, but the cohesion and approachability of General Dome are really what make the album.

There aren't a lot of bands that can pull off making something so quiet and unassuming but with as much emotional pull and drama as The House at Sea. Amor de Días do it with ease.

The Wagons have a strong track record of their own but there's something special to Expecting Company?; when paired with other singers, the overarching vision of Henry Wagons stands out clearer than it ever has.

Musically, Hatebreed sticks with the blueprints that they used to build previous outings like Satisfaction is the Death of Desire and Rise of Brutality, but there's an impressive sense of workmanship to Divinity of Purpose that suggests a steady diet of more traditional metal.

Though Burnt Up on Re-Entry trades a little of his earlier work's singularity for a more flexible approach, it shows Sweet can defy expectations, and should pique the interest of anyone partial to metal's more experimental side or post-rock's heavier side.

Ultimately, Get Up! earns its titular exclamation point as a successful combination of two talented veterans feeding off each other's dusky, creative spirit.

Candela works well as an entry point into Pierce's earlier music as well as a summation of how artfully he blends electronic, indie, and global influences.

The depth of the songs passes by unnoticed for the first several spins, but a world of strange detours and unexpected emotions is right below the surface.

What Monoswezi have created is a unique and intriguing fusion, and this album barely scratches the surface of possibilities. Where they take it will be fascinating.

Target Earth is not only better than we had any right to expect, it's relentlessly creative, inspired, and manic.

While the Kolars may lack the vocal pyrotechnics of their obvious influences, like true thespians, they have the moxie to make even the most mundane moments seem exciting, which supplies more than enough firepower for the aptly titled Nobody Dances in This Town, a notion that they obviously intend on remedying.