The result is a sunny, homemade-sounding record, but these aren't throwaway songs -- there's enough melody here to warrant attention regardless of Ebert's success with the Magnetic Zeros, and while that band's blissed-out bombast is an obvious touchstone, Alexander covers significantly more ground.

There aren't any weak points, and it drifts along dreamily, from one understated jam to the next.

Ultimately, Angles' best moments are reassuring rather than exciting, offering proof that the Strokes can still make an album together, and hope that it'll come more naturally to them next time.

While Welcome Home Armageddon isn't quite in a class with 2005's Hours or 2007's Tales Don't Tell Themselves, this 2011 release nonetheless indicates that Funeral for a Friend have a lot of life left in them.

Listening to the Naked and Famous' guttingly good 2011 full-length debut, Passive Me Aggressive You, one thing is clear: this band loves a hot chorus.

This all makes F.A.M.E. the equal of Forever, if not slightly better, and it hints that Brown's best is yet to come.

Anyone who arrived here because of underground mixtapes will be happy to hear the radio-friendly numbers and polish removed, and even happier when they notice Southern street producer Drumma Boy is responsible for all the beats.

At times, they clearly outpace her singing and lyrics, which often betray the fact that English is a second language. Still, Keren Ann remains a striking songwriter (listen to the interesting device she employs on the title track for proof), while her range of musical techniques has grown.

Often, the individual pieces of this patchwork pop are more captivating than the overall image, yet there's still an undeniable appeal to Urie and Smith's crazed earnest energy.

Sonically, it has everything except hooks, either in the rhythm or the melody; it's all surface style, driven by sound and given shape by hypersexual lyrics Britney sings listlessly.

The band's sophomore debut tempts fate with a nearly 30-second fade-in (you may think you have a defective disc on your hands, but wait for it), then takes off into a crazy welter of power ballad, electro-glitch, dubstep, atonal, acoustic-based, waltz-funk weirdness that occasionally gets tiring but rarely stops being interesting.

Part Arvo Part and Part Brian Eno, Greenwood continues to impress.

Electric Endicott confirms that the gifted outsider who allowed us to glance into his psyche on You Think You Really Know Me hasn't stopped pursuing his singular vision of twisted pop music, just as he still hasn't figured out how to deal with the opposite sex, and who knows: if he ever did, he might never be able to make music again.

As a trio, they have to be resourceful to get the kind of full sound Wills got with his ensemble, but they're up to the task.

Sever the Wicked Hand [is] one of the strongest efforts of their career.

On their sixth album, the Caribbean find themselves in perhaps their strongest sonic mode yet.

The album traces a journey through personal hell to salvation, which is not all that different from the story told in other religious music.

Ultimately, by pushing the dance beats and the slabs of synth to the foreground, the Sounds have increased their pop appeal and delivered an album that pleases your ears while also demanding that you leave your blood on the dancefloor.

Just like any given Bone album, Khalifa's chilled and confused Rolling Papers is an acquired taste, and while it's misrepresented by its single and the mixtapes that surround it, it is purposeful mood music, perfect for bong loading or just hanging out.

There is plenty to like on Cherish, from the unfailingly memorable songs to Eisold's winningly in-your-face vocal mannerisms.

With a varied group of artists ranging from established names (Moby, the Crystal Method, Paul Oakenfold) to up-and-comers (Com Truise, Pretty Lights), the collection offers eclectic tangents on the retro-futuristic musical world Daft Punk created.

Capo is scattered and scrappy, which for Jones is a comfortable landscape where oddball, sprawling, day-in-the-life numbers can sit next to stay-on-the-grind tracks, and Black Eyed Peas-parodies with no apologies required.

The new wave funk of "Ungrateful" and the Franz Ferdinand-esque "It's Obvious" shows the bandmembers aren't averse to the odd indie disco anthem, but the album is much more convincing when it embraces the spiky romanticism of the group's obvious influences.

What doesn't make a direct hit on the hips and heart is, at the least, well constructed.

At times, the extra grit quotient in Chesnutt's songs seems in turn to inspire a tougher approach on the part of the Junkies, but more often, the late songwriter's quirky, agreeably crooked structures are given a fulsome, flowing quality that would probably never even have occurred to Chesnutt as a possibility.

Heidecker & Wood have the pop culture fluency and musical skills to pull off this homage in gloriously cheesy detail. Starting from Nowhere may be odd, but it's also very enjoyable, especially for anyone who has a soft spot for soft rock.

Since Dan Deacon is a personal friend of Boeldt's, it's no surprise that club music would rub off, but even when the wheels start spinning and electro funk is cross-referenced, the all-too-cute, retro '80s aesthetic is ever present.

Songs like the dreamily punchy pop of "A Walk" and "Different Heart" and the cascading, descending swirl and sonic moan of "Keep Still" don't reinvent wheels but do serve as good general exercises in the field, lovely, tender, and loud.