Much like Prodigy's return to their rave-era prime on Invaders Must Die, it feels a touch forced, but what remains clear is that the Hartnolls still have the ability to make magic more than 20 years after their debut.

Both Lights isn't always completely on the money.

First Serve, the album, is somewhere between the De La producer's fascinating but flawed Psychoanalysis and his entirely purposeful movie-on-wax, A Prince Among Thieves.

Fans who were wondering if Ward's mainstream successes would yield a stylistic sea change can rest easy, as his signature, sepia-tone demeanor, for better or for worse, remains steadfast.

Lostprophets still sound hungry and confident, and when they stick the landing, as is the case with the relentless single "Bring 'Em Down," it leaves a mark.

Even the lesser songs have enough catchy moments to rank Mouseman Cloud up there with any of Pollard's unending solo material from the decade preceding it, but the strongest songs leave one wondering what kind of masterpieces he could construct if he'd just limit himself to one record a year.

Spooky Action at a Distance might be more low-key than some of Pundt's other work with and without Lotus Plaza, but it's still a great showcase for his winsome songs.

Their roots are just that--roots, not anchors, allowing the group to grow, often in unexpected and quietly thrilling ways.

There are a few lesser moments, but they don't distract; Slipstream reveals Raitt at another creative peak.

Vol. 1 is commendable and helps make the album a worthy addition to White Fence's excellently warped catalog.

Black Dice maintain the high experimental standards that made their other records cult favorites, and manage to present their spectrum of squelches in a more focused way than usual, without sacrificing playfulness.

It feels like they've channeled the looseness of their playing on Survival into a willingness to try anything once, and fortunately, most of their experiments stick.

These are slick but straightforward productions that mix a deft synth and drum program studio vibe with a warm, overall earthy vibe.

Admirers of Griffith's earliest recordings will no doubt delight in Intersection as much for its familiarity as the quality of its songwriting and performances.

Stars and Satellites manages to find that elusive balance between workmanlike precision and 3:00 a.m. vulnerability.

Like many remix collections, Dross Glop doesn't flow particularly well, and it's not quite as dazzling as Gloss Drop, but it once again shows that Battles are up for anything.

Thoughtfully crafted and full of melancholic lyricism and quietly desperate romanticism, My Head Is an Animal should appeal to any fan--whether man or monster--of sweet and wide-eyed folk-rock.

Nothing to Do is admittedly pretty one note in sound and subject matter, but the boys deliver it with so much enthusiasm and so many hooks, it's hard to care.

Heartbreaking Bravery is a fantastic slab of meticulous indie composition by all standards, but it's truly incredible in its ability to make almost every statement on the record come off like the last word.

Incredible communication and playing are the strong points of the record, even if the pieces themselves might be too lengthy and punishing to digest in one sitting.

Macaroni is classic Bobby Conn, and much like its crudely drawn cover depicting an appropriation of the classic blue and orange Kraft Mac n' Cheese box, those who like it will love it, and those who don't will likely pay it no mind.

By placing so much emphasis on the stylish ever-shifting surfaces of its production, Little Broken Hearts never quite sinks in emotionally. Norah Jones may be pouring her heart out but it's been given an elegantly detailed sculpture that camouflages her pain.

Two years later, Picture Show proves that the band's flair for writing almost aggravatingly catchy songs is as strong as ever.

There are some moments that hint at that brilliance.

While this album and Dust Lane sacrifice some of his recognizable sound, the possibilities laid open for Tiersen are too intriguing not to pursue.

Even if you don't delve deeply enough into these tracks to unearth all the layers of psychological discomfiture lurking beneath the softly inviting surface, there's more than enough to be gained simply by absorbing the artful unfolding of the tunes at face value.

Pluto is fat and redundant at 15 tracks, but it delivers whenever you desire that purple and woozy, Cudi-meets-Khalifa flavor.

This is as dynamic a record as Benson has ever made, but trades some of the homespun charm and young hunger of his earlier work for a more expensive-sounding studio sheen.