Three albums in, the young singer/songwriter sounds brave and confident yet breakable and guarded, and while A Creature I Don't Know may not be the bolt from the blue fans and critics were hoping for, it's most certainly storm born.

Those of centrist or conservative political persuasions may decide this is a socialist document. Let them. For Morello and others, this recording claims songs from organized labor history, which are more relevant now than ever; he includes his own contributions to it as well.

The Flood, despite all of its familiar trappings, manages to breathe (as in forcibly inflate) some new life into the genre.

They are moving on from such early influences as Jimmy Eat World to a more sophisticated, if still forceful sound as they get more playing under their belts.

It's a little much to call it Steely Dan in terms of contrast but there's something not too far removed going on.

Watch Me Dance is a triumphant speaker-blasting party record that cements Toddla T's reputation as the U.K.'s bass wonderkid.

They may not be as confident here as they were on their first album, but La Liberacion's best moments are direct and fun, and there's no shame in that.

The Blackbird Diaries isn't for everyone: it's mainstream but not sterile; it celebrates roots music without overly indulging it or neglecting pop; in short, it's catchy as hell and better than any Stewart solo project to date.

Concrete is modern and polished, yet makes no attempt to disguise the influence of the Texas country tradition in its heartfelt performances.

lthough the arrangements and material are monochromatic, What Matters Most isn't a failure by any means, thanks to Barbra Streisand's interpretive skills (as well as her flair for drama and her ever-beautiful voice). That said, this is not a record for those who love precocious Streisand best (Funny Girl, Hello, Dolly!).

Ultimately, the Red Hot Chili Peppers are served well by that professionalism; they're long past the point of proving themselves, they're now longer here for a party, they're rock & roll lifers, and I'm with You illustrates they can settle into maturity convincingly.

Songs and Stories suggests he's coasting just a bit, and though he's still one of the true legends of the Texas songwriting community, this simply doesn't capture him at the top of his game.

For anyone interested in underground music from the later '60s through the mid-'70s, Love Has Made Me Stronger is recommended listening.

Bombay Bicycle Club's 2011 album A Different Kind of Fix is a melodically compelling work that builds upon the band's eclectic guitar-based indie rock sound.

Packing so many WTFs into one ten-song record is hardly fair, a bit reckless, and ultimately (amazingly) successful.

Perhaps Ghost on the Canvas doesn't revisit every high in Campbell's history, but it pays honor to his legacy and feels like an appropriate and subtly moving farewell.

This frantic release gives them a kind of spastic, jagged sound that puts them somewhere between Lightning Bolt and an actual bolt of lightning, and makes Tripper an album that's more likely to wear listeners out physically than mentally.

On Am I the Enemy?, the guys consolidate their strengths and clean up the mess that Lonely Road left behind, focusing instead on the sort of emo-influenced alt-rock that reaches for the rafters without losing sight of the ground.

Designated chillout areas and other blue rooms will find Fever Dream a worthwhile soundtrack, while longtime fans get that wistful vagabond indie-hop style once again, only this time it's transmitted from deep, blissful space.

Ghostbird is a summer album for adventurous folk fans, engaging on its first run-thru but packed with enough twists and turns to warrant repeated listens.

If the livelier numbers initially make the strongest impression -- whether it's Al Anderson's sunny pop opener "Love's Gonna Make It Alright" or a pair of fleet-footed blues in "Lone Star Blues" and "Blue Marlin Blues" -- it's the introspective moments that anchor the album and lend it a measure of gravity.

The good news is that this album proves they are top-level purveyors of pop. The bad is that the eccentricity that once flowed freely feels forced.

For longtime fans, Celestial Electric is about as good as one could have hoped for the coming together of two like-minded musicians.

The rest of the album, despite a few detours into semi-indulgent, atonal glitch that shakes the fluidity of the record yet never really derails the train, keeps looking forward, hoping to find a light at the end of the tunnel, while knowing full well that it's only the first of many.

Ultimately, Grouplove's Never Trust a Happy Song is a cohesive if ramshackle crowd-pleaser, full of melodic double-lead vocals, handclaps, ringing electric guitars, and staccato synth parts that tips a hat to '80s dance-rock while still retaining the band's obvious love of experimental '60s folk-rock.

Few current bluegrass acts sing with the command and authority Lauderdale brings to his performances, and fewer still have a set of songs at their disposal as good as what Lauderdale and Hunter have composed for Reason and Rhyme, and it's another impressive installment in what's becoming one of the most interesting partnerships in roots music today.

Country Hits: Bluegrass Style doesn't signal any kind of new direction for him and that may well be the album's most comfortable strength.

A more concise and consistent outing than their debut, Hollow reaffirms that while Cut Off Your Hands may not be innovators, they're still quite good at what they do.