Sand+Silence shows Howard and Crisp are committed to keeping this band alive, and the album confirms they're still an uncommonly smart and talented indie pop band with a great deal to offer.

That I'm Not Bossy, I'm the Boss continues a string of strong, entirely enjoyable releases is a bonus for Sinéad's audience, but as evidenced by liner notes that proclaim "this album is dedicated to me," she's still doing it for no one but herself.

It's this kind of focus on the ennui, the mundane tragedy that permeates many people's daily lives, that works as creative fodder for Angus & Julia Stone. Ultimately, it's that ennui, combined with the pair's heartbreaking sense of melody, that makes this album a delightfully sad yet engaging listen.

Ultimately, while Lewis himself remains an enigma, the music on L'Amour offers us a fascinating glimpse of a long-forgotten Canadian pop auteur.

In the end, it's clear that the Arkells want to be a big band and they've put themselves out there in a big way with High Noon.

A promising debut with a few flashes of brilliance, Lacuna is an appealingly summery set of songs despite a few lulls in its energy.

Taken as the debut album from an entirely new band, which it should be, Wovenwar shows great promise, even if it all feels a bit familiar.

The album isn't going to send chills down spines or invoke great gusts of adulation, but a couple listens will be enough to firmly establish Melted Toys as a go-to relaxation and/or meditation aid for the discerning indie pop maven.

Bassett and his fellow knuckle-dragging stargazers are having far too much fun to care about anyone else's perception.

This is the satisfying return album fans have waited for, no more, and certainly no less.

Whatever Bishop Allen's intention, there is a sort of miasma hovering over Lights Out that supports the "sad party album" claim, adhering these clever pop songs together but deflating some of their energy in the process. It's an odd effect making for a pleasurable yet confusing listen.

Long in the Tooth features ten new Shaver songs, and if his voice by now (the album was released in his 75th year) has worn to a deep, rough rasp, the songs are as strong and as vital and world-weary wise as ever.

V is a solid, dream-inducing, quietly dramatic step forward for JJ.

They've constructed a vivid and often mysterious beast of an album with snippets of commentary and perspective hidden within, highly enjoyable either taken at face value or dug into deeper.

Clamping down and checking out rarely sounded as good as it does on Blacc Hollywood, and sometimes it's even Greta-Garbo-"I want to be alone" good.

An album that caters to the sensibilities of the Lips'-voracious fan base without doing so exclusively, providing an entryway for old-school prog lovers to check out how weird the guys from that little band that did that jelly song have gotten over the last couple of decades.

This is the sound of an artist open to a range of possibilities so vast they can't help but contradict each other, and he just can't be bothered by the confusion or annoyance those contradictions may cause his listenership. In the end it doesn't matter anyway, as Raposa is already on to one of the album's many moments of brilliance by the time our heads have stopped spinning from one of its moments of unfettered oddness.

With a purported 30 songs to pick from, the Magic Numbers ultimately boiled everything down to 11 of the group's most solidly engaging cuts to date.

They take things just seriously enough that their albums don't feel like a joke, but aren't afraid to have a little fun, making Maximum Overload another dazzling heavy metal romp from the stalwart shredmasters.

Even though Albumin doesn't quite hold together as a coherent statement, it's a densely packed, often fascinating work and a welcome return.

Though a couple of cuts fall short of the mark, and the set may have a few too many guests, Ske-Dat-De-Dat is a solid tribute to Armstrong. It does take chances and almost always pulls them off thanks to Dr. John's signature blend of musical imagination, wit, and savvy cool.

This theatricality is easily the album's most engaging feature, making The Resistance: Rise of the Runaway a unique offering in an otherwise dull post-hardcore landscape.

Stronger than ever is the group's proclivity for shiny pop.

Cory Branan may not have any hits--yet--but No-Hit Wonder shows that's sure not for lack of talent or a voice that makes his songs go down easy.

This young band delivers well-written and unapologetically retro pop/rock; that said, their enthusiastic delivery and clever arrangements are decisively modern.

Perhaps Grande doesn't embody the songs the way an old-fashioned diva would, but she functions as a likeable pop ringleader, stepping aside when the track calls for it and then unleashing a full-throated wail when it's her time to shine.

This is, for want of a better word, his wheelhouse, and while he may not be leaving his comfort zone here, Moonshine in the Trunk proves his strengths remain mighty potent.

You've almost certainly heard other acts do what Shovels & Rope do on Swimmin' Time plenty of times; the difference is, this duo can do it better than most, and that's enough to keep them going until they're capable of developing a more unique personality to call their own.