Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers specialize in good cheer, and while that means they can sometimes overplay their hand here--"Strangest Christmas Yet" sticks out like a sore thumb, each punch line landing with a thud--their act is ingratiating and so is The Long-Awaited Album.

With The Architect, Faith has constructed an album of empowered, mainstream pop that retains all of the complexity, artfulness, and raw emotion of her previous work.

Ultimately, listeners who can embrace the idiosyncrasies of Rothman's voice and the throwback production (don't miss the Kristin Kontrol track, "Jordan," for that niche Casio-and-saxophone sound) will find an intriguing if hit-and-miss set of underlying songs with strokes of classic Brill Building and sophisti-pop.

Weed Garden is a nice little diversion, and finds both Beam and the band he oversees at the top of their long-running game.

It can feel as if she's whispering secrets, but just when that gentleness threatens to get lulling, she scales great heights with elegance. These cannily deployed skills give The Front Porch the faintest hit of grit yet there's also a sense of fragility to the record; it's music that treasures the bittersweet melancholy of a moment that seems gone even as it's being lived.

This album is a bold step into fresh creative ground for the Lone Bellow, but they seem to still be settling into their new musical home.

Despite the involvement of roughly two dozen production partners, the set is cohesive, almost to a fault, and most stimulating when it's slightly vaporous yet bristly, with a foundation in low-end thrum.

Morrison has never been a rockabilly cat, he's a blues shouter and he plays precisely to those strengths here, leading his band through lively and loving readings of rock & roll oldies, never apologizing for the unabashed nostalgia of the entire enterprise.

The stage show in this form is a perfect distillation of all the themes and feelings the book digs into, boiling them down to the truest, most intense nuggets, and Pastel and Thompson's music is a big part of why it works so well both in the show and as a stand-alone album.

With Shawn, Mendes has crafted an album of sustained confessional intimacy, one that continually invites you to listen closely.

Upon first listen Little Honey is quite jarring for all of its textural and production shifts and dodges, but in time it settles into the listener as a mixed collection of decent songs that pack some punch, but no jaw-dropping wallops.

Questions of semantics and authenticity aside, Port of Morrow's songs are compelling enough to keep most fans listening and enjoying.

American Analog Set have been accused of writing the same song over and over - and over - again, and Set Free isn't immune to that.

Forays into medieval trip-hop ("The Last Laugh") and reggae-influenced indie pop ("Jelly Bean") stretch the boundaries of the album's bedrock, but it's fun to see folk music take such unexpected turns, especially when the destination sounds this enchanting.

Not many bands bring together bluegrass' past and present the way Chatham County Line do, and fewer still can do it this well; Wildwood shows they keep getting better as they follow new stylistic detours in their music.

Gold and Stone is another intriguing entry in the discography of Eternal Summers, a band who is quickly building up an impressive body of work.

This is as enjoyable as the duo's debut, another set that rewards deep listening for those with an affinity for Eno/Moebius/Roedelius, Global Communication, the Detroit Escalator Co., and the tranquil aspects of Kompakt's Pop Ambient series.

Where Wolf Parade dips into more than their fair share of upbeat, even disco beat-driven, music, Handsome Furs instead pull back and strip down their songs.

This work leaves the debut, impressive as it was, in the dust.

Their playing is energetic and in good spirits, and most importantly, their positivity never sounds forced or unnatural. They're not acting like clowns and forcing anyone to smile, and they never sound too eager to please. They're simply having a good time and making relaxed, not-too-heavy boogie rock fit for a summer gathering or a road trip through the desert.

It's just one rock-solid blast after another, each one showcasing the involved parties at their sharpest and mightiest.

Few songs from either record match the bombast of his work with Broken Social Scene, perhaps, but Collett’s albums are better viewed as part of a whole, and Rat A Tat Tat strengthens the country-fried side of his solo personality.

While it's easily the most accessible material from the project to date, a few listens will reveal that it's every bit as chaotic as their early outsider sounds.

These are huge, Motown-sounding set pieces that frame Hynes as a male Dusty Springfield backed by symphonic strings, jangly guitars, and urgent, driving percussion.

This collective has always represented the darker elements of McCaughey's personality, but the depression is kept in check here by Wilco's solid and often upbeat backing, thus playing a major role in the most enjoyable Minus 5 release yet.

The results are sure to please longtime fans, while possibly reeling in a few folks who were turned off by the sonic excess of Dinosaur Jr. at their most punishing.

A record that practically demands a set of headphones to fully appreciate it; concentrated listening is the only way to reconcile the long passages of ambience with the bracing pop songs that often interrupt.

This record isn't about progressing or regressing, and one hesitates to refer to such a strong, enjoyable listen as a holding pattern.