It is the most organic record he's issued in almost two decades; and, more importantly, it restores topical protest music to a bona fide place in American cultural life.

While it sounds less like a single-minded effort from Chasney than it does a high-spirited collective freakout from a reconfigured Comets on Fire, Chasney is still at the core of all the songs, transmitting his freaky visions in the guise of one face-melting power jam after another.

What's charming about this album, beyond the sheer quality of the songs and the arrangements, is Pizzarelli's obvious and genuine love for this really broad gamut of material, and his insight into the varied qualities that make them all great songs.

It builds nicely upon The Heavy's previous work and should please fans of the band's quirky take on rootsy soul-influenced music.

The bulk of Made in Germany is undoubtedly still an acquired taste, but as an overview of the country's biggest rock export, it's a fairly representative collection and showcases them at their best.

Since he's not a world-class performer, most classical fans won't find music of interest here, but Solo Piano II is an engaging record with a personality all its own.

If 8Ball always seemed more moonshine than fine wine, Life's Quest suggests he can still get better with age and go down smooth when you let him mellow.

There's a strong, varied energy that's showcased as a result, with youthful ideas and a sense of trying something different slamming up against a political and cultural atmosphere that was barely welcoming of it.

H.N.I.C. 3 is a back-to-basics return to form with some worthy pop cuts, and it just takes a slight trim and a push of the shuffle button to become worthy of any long-term fan's attention.

There's a higher percent of anxiety and queasiness mixed in amid the moments of pop bliss, and though fans of the glassy perfection of MPP may be initially disappointed, Centipede Hz sounds like another logical step in the band's evolution.

At the very least, In Limbo shows that the band can do a lot of things well, and while this set of songs isn't exactly scattered, TEEN's ambitions lead them to be less cohesive than they might have been had they picked one direction and stuck with it.

Crotch-grabbing tracks might crash into a convincing emo-rap number and these proven wordsmiths might have left more room for guests and hooks than they probably should have, but just because their indie debut was a more cohesive showcase doesn't mean the joy and pain of Welcome to Our House isn't worth the required sorting.

Think of this as a run-of-the-mill Khaled album and that mill is still doing pretty awesome.

"Playin' Hard" and "Fumble," introspective and self-critical, are two of the album's most resonant songs and provide more depth, even though the sentiments are probably fleeting.

Fans will find that Key to the Kuffs goes from confusing letdown to intriguing mystery after just a couple listens.

2 Chainz over-promises and almost delivers on his official debut, putting him right in the punch-line rapper's sweet spot.

This is much more of an abstract, "experimental" affair than a pop one, as friendly and approachable as it is--only a fraction of the selections could properly be described as songs, and even those tend to spiral off down unexpected textural avenues.

Into the Diamond Sun shows the trio has its own ear for how to combine and recombine those elements [moody psychedelic jamming, entrancing female vocals and slow-burn tunefulness], not least thanks to a balance of sprightly clarity and sudden shifting in the arrangements that feels more like a hip-hop mix transposed onto past approaches than just a jam.

Contact is certainly a showcase for all the things the Noisettes can do well, but more focus would help define them as eclectic popsters instead of fickle ones.

Dylan is in mostly excellent form--even when sloppy; it sounds like he's having the time of his life.

While these tales of people trying to escape their pasts aren't quite as masterful as Carried to Dust, Algiers has some great songs and a vitality that Calexico should try to hang onto in the future.

Despite its brevity, the songs strike with such languid, metered force they manage to slow time down, stretching an EP's worth of darkly ambient dream pop into a deceptively epic micro-journey.

The Salesman and the Shark is head and shoulders above the work of most of Rowe's peers, and he possesses a strong identity as a songwriter, even if he doesn't feel confident completely relying on it yet.

Like all of the best Swallow the Sun songs past, these are invariably lush, powerful, cathartic musical statements; rich in texture, multiple emotions, and even nuance, but we'd be lying to call them revolutionary, or even seriously evolutionary.

While they need to focus more, there's enough potential here to ensure that there's plenty to choose from.

Sic Alps isn't quite as flowing as its predecessor Napa Asylum, but it still does a fine job of balancing the band's increasing prowess and the sprawling, noisy mischief for which they've always been known.

The Avett Brothers aren't rewriting the book, they're just translating it for a new generation.

Putrifiers II is part snapshot and part look into the crystal ball, showing Dwyer and company's ever-changing approach to songwriting and musicianship, and further cementing Thee Oh Sees' status as one of the most liberated, vital bands in indie rock.