Thanks to their actual growth as artists, it may be their best yet.

Seekers and Finders is as riotous, poignant, and fun as anything by Gogol Bordello; that said, Hutz's raw production is a closer reflection of the band's live sound.

Tim Wheeler--who produced the record on his own--is as much a craftsman as a songwriter, hammering out melodies and riffs, and his resulting tunes aren't fashionable, but they are sturdy.

Earth to Dora is well-written and imaginatively produced pop for grown-ups that reminds us Mark Oliver Everett is crazy enough to try anything once -- even feeling OK for a while.

The album cools down with ambient interlude "Miyajima" and midtempo closer "The Waiting," providing a patient ending to an album that gracefully deals with personal upset and disappointment.

This broadening of the palette is as deliberate as Accelerate's reduction of R.E.M. to ringing Rickenbackers, and while it occasionally feels as if the bandmembers sifted through their past to find appropriate blueprints for new songs, there is merit to their madness.

From a Compound Eye winds up standing apart from the pack of Pollard projects even if it doesn't stand that far apart.

Coming from the creative hotbed of modern-day Berlin, it seems like they could have pushed the envelope a bit more.

Granted, Lidell has more of a retro touch than any pop group would dare consider, but these songs are just an AmIdol appearance away from the commercial mainstream.

Garwood's haunted musical vision is seamlessly suited to underscore Lanegan's dry-as-dust vocals and his American Gothic lyric skills.

The greater flaw of Liberation is how its blend of R&B reflection and tense testifying doesn't seem to be an easy fit on any format in 2018. This weakness is also a strength, as it shows that Aguilera didn't take an easy route with Liberation: she instead found a hybrid between the personal and commercial, which makes the record resonate emotionally no matter what success it may or may not have.

Broken Bells is an honest-to-goodness debut album--there are as many promising flashes as frustrating moments here. Mercer and Burton have obvious chemistry, but they need to blend more for true alchemy.

A Coliseum Complex Museum is further proof that the Besnard Lakes are a band with big ideas and real vision, and just as importantly, they have the talent and focus to makes those ideas into something worth hearing.

Good chance newcomers will fall for the singles and be frustrated by the perceived filler, but that's the biggest fault with Wonder Where; it could be more persuasive and open.

A debut that largely lives up to all the surrounding hype championing the group as one of the hottest new indie up-and-comers.

There's a comforting softness to the album (only occasionally broken by a stray emotion in Eric Emm's vocals or a danceable tempo) that makes it perfect background music for working away in a cubicle or relaxing after a long day.

Berry makes no attempt to chase trends or offer a final statement; he just gathers his ten best recent tunes and that's why Chuck is such a fitting epilogue to a legendary career. It captures the essence of Chuck Berry, how he could turn the everyday into something exciting.

As with most endeavors in uncharted territory, some songs miss the mark (an unnecessary ambient keyboard instrumental "Flush," for instance), but the straightforward beasts like "Billy Fish," "The Smiling Cobra," and the majestic title song "Nude with Boots" showcase the Melvins at the top of their game, while the lumbering brutality of "It Tastes Better Than the Truth" and "The Savage Hippy" shows that their warped sensibilities are still intact and that they're far from softening, even after almost 25 years in the game.

Social Distortion sounds just as you would expect on Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes, but that's to say they sound like a fine and fierce rock & roll who have beaten the odds and stayed around to keep making music long after many of their peers gave up, and the commitment that holds them together can be heard bubbling under each tune.

Now in his middle age, he's a richer, nuanced singer than he was during Oasis' heyday, yet he's retained his charisma and, unlike his brother, he favors color and fire in his records, elements that not only enhance this fine collection of songs but make this the best post-Oasis album from either Gallagher to date.

It's Not Me never hits heights as blinding as "Smile" or "LDN"--but this approach does wind up spotlighting just how special a pop star Lily Allen is, how she captures all that's wretched and glorious about her time without falling into any of its traps, probably because she's clever enough to avoid them in the first place.

The songs lack the energy, the feeling, and even the melody of Underworld's classic records.

As promising as it is inconsistent, Hocus Pocus may not be Enon's strongest album, but it's still a fairly interesting one.

Far from being an angry album, Show Me Your Tears is filled with the kind of conscious joy that comes from working through your problems.

Honeycomb is steeped in tradition, yet manages to buck it at the same time; while not all Pixies and Frank Black fans will appreciate its mellow maturity, it's an intimate treat for those who follow its lead.

Generally good but occasionally uneven.

The only complaint with the album is that all the angst and gloom can get pretty heavy at times, but if you are in the right mood, Last Secrets can play like the soundtrack to a broken dream.

Though the album has its fair share of songs that sound like stylish, smart, but lulling background music on first listen, The Hair the TV the Baby & the Band reveals its catchiness gradually.