Haley's output can be enjoyed in one-track doses or complete immersion, and it often inspires YouTube users to upload unofficial videos incorporating fuzzy, dreamlike images from early- to mid-'80s television and film clips.

Bittersweet and incredibly catchy, Endless Now is the kind of album that just gets better with repeated listening.

Burning with a hot track intensity somewhere in between early evening rave-up and late-night club afterglow, Torches is a beacon of melodic dance-pop love.

Murderbot delivers the goods necessary to get people on the floor and moving their feet without resorting to standard four-on-the-floor cliches.

Like all BSP records, Valhalla Dancehall aims for the nosebleed section while remaining oddly detached.

Epic riffs play a bigger part than before, but Abasi is as jaw-dropping as ever with his double-tapping technique and arpeggiated whirlwind solos.

A cohesive but slightly repetitive affair, Ecstatics International occasionally matches the euphoria of its obvious influences, but it's perhaps a little too aimless to propel Swimming into the big league.

This combination of a tight, talented band and a tortured frontman doesn't necessarily make Falling in Reverse a revelatory band, but is does make The Drug in Me Is You a very solid album that will give fans of Radke's a chance to get reacquainted with the notorious post-hardcore bad boy.

The nostalgia-heavy lyrical bent of some songs can read either sweet or cringe-worthy, depending on your birth date and sensitivity to sentiment.

Time Machine 2011: Live in Cleveland chronicles a typically strong, consistent Rush show.

Southern Rock Opera should be required listening not only for fans of the genre, but anyone interested in the history of '70s rock, or even the history of the South in that decade.

No surprises in terms of material, but the presentation is exquisite, sounding familiar and fresh, a stunning re-presentation of records that were teetering on the edge of over-familiarity.

Inclusions is not an album for any typical audience, though those with more esoteric and adventurous tastes may embrace it.

Bootleg, Vol. 3 showcases what we already know (intellectually, at least) about Cash in a very emotional and visceral way.

This Is Christmas is a joyous and affectionate affair that already feels like an instant festive classic.

What could have been a throwaway side project has instead turned out to be a quietly charming and affectionate labor of love that hopefully won't be the last collaboration between the two.

Buried beneath the relentless, grinding beats and wobbly bass tremors, Welcome Reality is home to a potentially great but unfinished sci-fi blockbuster soundtrack, but unable to sustain its early momentum, it ends up being merely a solid first offering rather than the trail-blazing spectacular that was anticipated.

A wonderfully imaginative score which deserves some recognition come awards season.

Stetson's transcendent and muscular ability to layer sound, breath, and rhythm in a meditative compositional style sticks with you long after Judges is over.

The target audience should think of it as a bag marked "regs" that comes with no organic flavor or transcendent buzz, but is easy to roll and surprisingly dank.

That Back to Love is not a major shake-up is not a bad thing. Most of the songs are instantly ingratiating in some way, with none of the lighter, upbeat numbers the least bit out of character.

It's a curious creature with habits of its own, though the results suggest they shouldn't end this grand experiment just yet.

While its parts don't quite come together in a way that rivals IRM, Stage Whisper is a welcome adjunct that celebrates Gainsbourg's skills in the studio and in front of an audience.

Hazed Dream is the band's subtlest album as well as its most accessible, and its low-key pleasures reveal themselves over time.

Colon certainly sounds more comfortable here than he did on his first two albums.

Ultimately, while Frampton is never allowed to settle into one aesthetic sound on Red--moving from electronic pop to dance-rock to folk-pop--her honey-sweet voice and emotionally compelling delivery are enough to carry you along for the ride.

Mirror Mirror isn't the kind of record that will bowl you over right away, but as you listen, the barely contained drama and violence of the performances, the bloody hooks each song contains, and the inspired craft of the arrangements will draw you in and knock you out.

The new wave funk of "Ungrateful" and the Franz Ferdinand-esque "It's Obvious" shows the bandmembers aren't averse to the odd indie disco anthem, but the album is much more convincing when it embraces the spiky romanticism of the group's obvious influences.