The skittering, tightly wound sound the band achieves here bears echoes of Vampire Weekend's arch global groove, Peter Bjorn and John's perky indie pop, and the complex art pop textures of Field Music, without ever feeling derivative of any of the aforementioned artists.

The productions are steeped in soul and R&B, offering a more upbeat and clean sound than the usual Wu murk and a Masta Killa companion to Ghostface's retro effort Ghostdini the Wizard of Poetry in Emerald City.

For those who like their electronic music clearly defined, it's a hard sell, but Synthesized is an easy recommendation for those who appreciate Junkie's skill and/or any witty genre-jumping around dance-pop.

Lady from Shanghai intrigues more often than not, and shows that Pere Ubu can tap into paranoia, loathing, and the downright weird with nearly as much ease and eloquence as they did almost four decades before.

While there are some changes in pace here and there--the quicker, tenser "The Promise"; the piano-led title track that concludes the album; the short, fierce instrumental "Easter Island"--generally the album is a bit of a blur, shifting moods here and there without fully distinguishing itself track by track.

It spans decades and styles but it's held together by Tarantino's vision, not unlike the film itself.

While overall, I Am Kloot's sixth album reads like a heartfelt and stylized ten-chapter celebration of classic pop--with the opening half consolidating Bramwell's position as one of England's most unjustifiably overlooked songwriters--it's only a minor disappointment that four of the final five chapters included here sail dangerously close to pastiche.

Compared to that album's [Sirens' Call] half-hearted songwriting and rote sound, Lost Sirens positively shines--leading to the customary questions of why this material didn't replace several, if not many, songs on the original Sirens' Call.

The themes are vague enough that they could be applied to any number of relationships or situations, and far more captivating are the arrangements and dynamic shifts in orchestrations that make up the cyclical nature of the album.

Local Natives' sophomore effort, 2013's Hummingbird, is a more atmospheric and introspective collection of songs in contrast to the band's effusive 2009 breakthrough debut Gorilla Manor.

Ultimately, My True Story is a smooth, mostly laid-back, and soulful recording by Neville.

Despite Nightlands' scientific approach, Oak Island doesn't sound sterile or too calculated; instead, Hartley revisits the innocence of the past with sophistication, like seeing the places you went when you were 17 with new eyes.

When all the songs are put together, it adds up to an album that's easy to enjoy.

A solid, if a little subtle, debut that promises great things while delivering many very good ones.

It's another impressive album that shows Haden to be a truly talented singer and vocal arranger, and one that fans of movie music done in a non-traditional fashion should find quite interesting.

Ultimately, Biffy Clyro's gift as a band is to craft songs that balance immediately catchy hooks with complex arrangements that only help to reinforce the drama of the pop moment. Thankfully, there are plenty of these dichotomous yet rapturous moments on Opposites.

The glinting "Glue" and well-titled "Snap" excepted, they [the nine remaining tracks, all instrumentals] lack the muscle of Chung's earlier releases, but they're more evocative--detailed enough to withstand numerous plays whenever comforting, if downcast and unobtrusive, abstract hip-hop is sought.

Perhaps what's most interesting about the album in the end is how something that theoretically consists of dated approaches in its bubbling mix of electro-rock and '70s dub and more seems to suit 2012 just fine, a sleek collage no more out of place than any other number of similarly backward-glancing efforts around the globe.

Never bland, the Daredevil Christopher Wright rise from good to great when they let their freak flag fly and allow their true weird personalities to come out.

While the Kolars may lack the vocal pyrotechnics of their obvious influences, like true thespians, they have the moxie to make even the most mundane moments seem exciting, which supplies more than enough firepower for the aptly titled Nobody Dances in This Town, a notion that they obviously intend on remedying.

Regions of Light and Sound of God is intriguing and quirky; its songs often pose big questions inside informal, loosely developed pop song structures that are instantly accessible yet whose lyrics are often metaphysically elusive.

The Wagons have a strong track record of their own but there's something special to Expecting Company?; when paired with other singers, the overarching vision of Henry Wagons stands out clearer than it ever has.

Light and pleasant, Run for Cover is also backed by a band that knows how to accompany all this vocal loveliness.

A timely holiday stocking stuffer for the aging mosh pit veteran in your family, but not exactly mandatory listening for everyday metal heads.

This more open, organic process comes through on the songs, providing E and company with a refreshing amount of creative freedom after the relative confinement of doing a conceptual three-album trilogy.

This classic hard rock production touches every song on IV, and the first half of the record is composed of songs that seem tailored to fit the post-metal sensibilities of the record's sonic texturing.

"Annie I Owe You a Dance" has too many strings, and the poignant, "37405," a narrative about a country singer turned convict, could have been leaner. But these are small complaints on a solid and ambitious recording. On Two Lanes of Freedom, McGraw proves he is indeed the artist that Curb never let him be.

At times, Conduit feels like a step backward for Funeral for a Friend, but that's because, well, it is. Fortunately, the album is solid enough to prove that every so often a little de-evolution is just what a band needs, and that it's entirely possible to head into the future while looking toward the past.