It could use a couple throw-you-around-the-room rockers in the vein of Turn Me Loose's "Runnin'" and "Knockin'," although some listeners will be so struck by the sustained high level of confidence and grace that it won't be an issue.

That hint of edge, of literal weight, adds to the collage of tones on a piece like "Canyon Meadows" or acts as an undertow on the flow of "New Pures," helping to transform that feeling of contemplation while not actually crushing it in any sense.

It's an excellent introduction to the modern Western Saharan sound, and also a fine addition for existing fans of the group.

Other than the annoyances listed, Don't Blame the Stars is an enjoyable, fairly well-executed album of decent Americana songs. No more, no less.

What their return does bring is that unquantifiable "getting the band back together" feeling and all of the excitement that comes with old friends getting back together to do what they do best.

While those who miss the band's old orchestral pop sound may cavil, Twist Again represents the opening of a promising new path for Bodies of Water.

In another regard, Rave On Buddy Holly is quite different. Encouraged by producer Randall Poster, the 19 artists involved do not settle for mere replications of Buddy's hits, they play fast and loose, sometimes radically reinterpreting the original.

This shifting back and forth between tradition and avant-garde tradition, as it were, defines much of the rest of the album -- call it maturing or call it other interests, but it's a comfortable enough listen, as appropriate for the schizophrenic beast that still gets labeled indie rock as anything else.

The mellow is never harshed, and the promise of sunny weekend stoner music from the '80s is maintained the whole way through.

Maybe one rapper in 1,000 can rap effectively in 6/8, and Wiley is one of them.

The end result is an album on a shaded, comfortable grayscale, music that's suitably mature yet sidesteps stultifying notions of middlebrow class.

It seems that no matter what he adds or subtracts, Jesu's recordings, have a defined feel that is, though lyrically and texturally beautiful, somewhat two-dimensional. That said, Ascension remains a deeply satisfying recording.

This kind of contrast between light and dark makes Leveler a wonderfully dynamic album that is musically engaging with mercifully few bass bombs. Theological differences aside, metal fans would do well to give this one a chance.

While its relentless chirpiness may be a little too twee for some, Eliza Doolittle is still a beguiling debut that would undoubtedly have found an audience even without the benefit of her showbiz background.

Panic of Girls rushes forth on a sleek new wave disco pulse that's entirely unconcerned about whether '80s retro is in style this season or not. This is fashionable music existing outside the realm of fashion.

Haley's output can be enjoyed in one-track doses or complete immersion, and it often inspires YouTube users to upload unofficial videos incorporating fuzzy, dreamlike images from early- to mid-'80s television and film clips.

An easy recommendation for its obvious audience, but Together/Apart is a bit more than that as well, giving the genre of indie hip-hop some mass appeal whenever it decides to wild out.

As a whole, the sophomore album is inconsistent, but when being eccentric is such a large part of a group's appeal, this is to be expected. Notwithstanding a few weak moments, many tracks are potentially their best.

As an album, Standing on the Rooftop may not be as striking as its predecessor, but perhaps it wasn't meant to be. It is a seemingly effort that pushes the familiar toward an uncertain future where pop genres cease to need to exist at all.

Joe Ely is still one of the best things the Lone Star State has to offer, and Satisfied at Last shows he's not about to stop making albums worth hearing, and still finding things to say within the style he's made his own.

Samuel Flynn Scott's vocals often come across as nondescript but aim to be familiar rather than remarkable, suiting the sense of easy immediacy here -- the appeal of being what you expect.

On their tenth studio album, In Flames officially complete their transition from Swedish melodic death metal pioneers to unpredictable Swedish progressive pop/rock/neo-classical metal innovators... It's as epic as Scandinavia is cold.

With Collider, Roberts proves himself an essential part of the R&R landscape.

It's the more familiar works which ensure that Basement Jaxx vs. Metropole Orkest is an uplifting, feel-good record which manages to straddle the unlikely worlds of classical and progressive house with ease.

An affecting, dreamlike, decayed din that incorporates voice samples twisted to such an extent that they sound sourced from torture victims and brokenhearted zombies.

Pop music styles change faster than they wear out, and Mohager convincingly makes the case that there is more to say in the music of the '80s, even if fashion has banished it to its own radio formats and nostalgia tours.

It's this quality that makes the album not just an easy recommendation for listeners old and new, but one of their most fun, accessible, and solid albums since Factory Showroom.

Big Talk may not have rock star sparkle, but it walks the walk when it comes to solidly entertaining songs.