In the increasingly prevalent spirit of similar trans-cultural musical interminglings in recent years, what we get never feels carefully curated, explicated, or tamed but rather refreshingly, bewilderingly alive -- an explosive flurry of rhythms, sounds, and voices.

Lollipop might have been an inspiring return to form; as it is, it's flawed but interesting enough to confirm there's still life left in this band, which (with any luck) the Meat Puppets will document in a more satisfying manner next time they record.

But while it's sometimes a little too understated for its own good, 100 Acres of Sycamore is a never less than a charming and emotive U-turn suggesting that Regan now realizes where his talents lie.

Lupercalia's highly melodic but still resolutely exuberant nature indicates that Wolf's newfound positive outlook on life definitely seems to suit him.

The name Psychedelic Horseshit is more accurate than ever, as they truly sound psychedelic for the first time, surrounded by wild soundbursts and shiny musical squiggles that would probably be called "horseshit" by most mainstream rock fans...In a way, it's perfect. A perfect mess.

While Golden Worry isn't quite as deep as Terrible Two, it's an exciting follow-up, nonetheless.

It may come to define or utterly transcend metal; but it doesn't matter because this album is in its own class. Anyone remotely interested in heavy music needs to encounter Aesthethica at least once.

Let Me Come Home never really develops into the lump in the throat it wants to be, though it certainly isn't for lack of trying.

Parton has never sounded fresher or more spirited, and with "Somebody's Missing You" in particular, she shows she still knows how to write a timeless song.

The singles aren't as obvious as 2008's "Knickerbocker," and the cuteness is replaced by suave aloofness; Ventriloquizzing is seamlessly somber, and all the better for it.

A headlong rush of an album, Pala is accomplished, bold, and very, very danceable; everything Friendly Fires' debut promised and more.

There's a lot going on, but Hotel Shampoo never seems cluttered. It flows easily, so easily that it becomes an album to get lost in.

Performances are generally middling, but a few songs show a glimmer of the band's former jagged glory.

Losing his religion doesn't mean he's lost his gift for indie rock songwriting, though, and fans who're willing to indulge Bazan's soul-searching will find Strange Negotiations similar to Pedro the Lion's catalog, with a familiar mix of minor-key starkness and lush, guitar-fueled rock songs.

You could single out any song on the album for praise or inclusion on a killer summer mixtape and you wouldn't go wrong... this album is one of the sleeper picks for best-of 2011.

W isn't as rousing as its predecessor, but it may be an even richer album; in its own way, it's just as audacious.

Now as before, there are few groups in rock & roll that perform as brilliantly and purposefully as an ensemble as the Feelies, and on Here Before their trademark sound remains a thing of wonder that hasn't been dimmed a bit by the passage of time.

Bestival Live 2011 is an understandably honest reflection of the Cure in the popular mind as their commercial high point recedes further into the past, but given Smith and the band's other contemporaneous activities, it's an incomplete portrait.

Kane once again [after the Last Shadow Puppets] delves into the psychedelic era with a connoisseur's ear for detail and comes away with another similarly ambitious collection of bluesy psych- and folk-inflected rock.

Anyone intrigued by the idea of emo-rap at its most introspective will find this a well-crafted and moving effort, while returning Atmosphere fans get the satisfying usual with some extra maturity and growth.

The Kronos Quartet, So Percussion, and the six players in Dance Patterns deliver topnotch performances, and Nonesuch's sound is immaculate.

The whole sternly focused thing is laced with enough emphasis on sound design to function as an immersive headphone listen, while at least two-thirds of it can drain one's energy on a dancefloor.

The way he blazes through so many songs in such a short space is a little overwhelming, but Cloud Nothings is a solid step forward for Baldi as he gets ready for what comes after teenage wasteland.

The Kid's voice has aged, lowered, and mellowed, but otherwise you'd think this witty genre-spanning, time-jumping collection of tropical kitsch and too-cool nostalgia came from the group's golden era.

Designated chillout areas and other blue rooms will find Fever Dream a worthwhile soundtrack, while longtime fans get that wistful vagabond indie-hop style once again, only this time it's transmitted from deep, blissful space.

Jonny's 2011 self-titled debut is a collection of bright, literate, and catchy '60s-influenced pop.

Musically however, Shangri-La keeps things fairly light and upbeat, with plenty of memorable, chanted vocal hooks and a satisfying mixture of live and sequenced instrumentation.

The kinetic, mini-funk monster "Swimsuits" with Mayer Hawthorne puts it over the top, making the long wait forgivable and the album highly recommendable.