This is an album that's impossible to play quietly, and if this music is an assault, by the time Segall is midway through "Fuzz War," don't be surprised if you're signing on for this particular fight club.

while the album may be about the band's View from the Bottom (whether that be career woes, the loss of a friend, or the bottom of a shot glass), as the title of the rousing set closer implies, Lit definitely got it "Right This Time."

All in all, Here We Are is a promising debut, and Citizens! manage the impressive feat of borrowing from lots of different eras--'70s glam, '80s synth pop, '90s Brit-pop--without drowning in nostalgia.

It doesn't stay still, it peaks and ebbs, flowing steadily between brooding and explosions of repressed rage, a fitting soundtrack for aging rap-rockers who are comfortable in their skin but restless at heart.

Write Me Back proves that Kelly's mode throughout Love Letter was no fluke.

Oshin is a pleasant listen, especially for anyone partial to Beach Fossils or the Captured Tracks sound in general.

A certain kind of playfulness reigns throughout much of the album.

Everything else is instrumental, and suited equally well to either careful listening or playing in the background when some of your hipper friends come over for dinner.

An utterly exhausting but consistently thrilling listen, L'Enfant Sauvage is arguably a career best which suggests Gojira have found their spiritual home.

There's a sense of rollicking craziness throughout, some busting out, some swaggering boogie breakdowns.

Not everything here clicks together at that level, but each track is inventive, and when the songwriting and arrangements cross paths perfectly, as they do in the above songs, this is a delightful band.

While some listeners might find the Projectors' rather knowing idiosyncracy off-putting and smug, there are songs here that suggest the band has finally found the formula that finely balances its well-meaning musical intellectualism with actual pop songs.

With Gold Motel the bandmembers are wiser, but never weary, simultaneously expanding their sound around their new world-view and fitting it within the candy-pop shell they've crafted so well.

Not every song is a keeper, but the strong songs carry the less-engaging moments and Mostly No ultimately becomes a drifty summer soundtrack.

It's gimmicky, lightweight, and best taken in small chunks, but get a glitter-friendly crowd together and it gets the party started, succeeding at its one and only goal.

Rooster Rag doesn't stray too far from the path; it stays right on track, is relatively lean, and amply illustrates all of Little Feat's enduring charms.

Gone is a consistently engaging listen.

[Invisible Stars is] a looser, livelier record than Welcome to the Drama Club.

It's a light, breezy affair that seems to take its title quite literally.

While a few of Total Dust's later tracks tend to blend together a bit, the album is never less than pretty and sincere, and it's always nice to hear artists like Borcherdt prove they can do several styles of music equally well.

Some of the songs are restrained and bare to the point of being plain and easy to disregard, but they succeed in accentuating La Havas' thoughtful and often sharp words.

The album is densely dynamic, but never relies on loud-then-soft clichés or screaming histrionics to make any of its points.

Presenting a piece of musical theater as a stand-alone work can be a bit difficult to grasp upon first listen; that said, it does reveal itself ultimately to be a very nearly dazzling endeavor that rewards patience mightily.

KR-51 is a project where Clare & the Reasons raised the stakes for themselves, and in most respects they've succeeded, with an album that's an audacious and beautifully crafted celebration of their individual creative vision.

Holograms have wholeheartedly embraced '80s post-punk icons like Wire or the Factory Records stable as jumping-off points, but managed to twist the influence into something more interesting than simple homage.

They haven't lost their uplifting positivity or their restlessly inventive production spirit--they just seem to be missing a bit of that Warm Heart.

The impossibly orchestrated compositions on Songs Cycled are constantly unraveling and being wound back in, making them a little bit hard to keep up with at times, but something amazing to behold nonetheless.

Between the steady maturation displayed by those ensuing color-coded works and the quantity of songs here, both undeniably infectious and innovative, many more fans are bound to embark on the Georgians' strange, strange ride.