Howl of the Lonely Crowd will get some notice due to the people who produced it, as it should, but at its core it's further proof of Comet Gain as one of the great hidden rock & roll treasures of the last 20 years.

A chronological ordering gives a sense to the band's progress, a definite perk, but the big payoff with Tape Club is that it offers a chance to see through to the heart of SSLYBY's songs and realize how charming they can be without the big-league production.

Songs like this--imaginative, contemplative, densely wordy, slightly silly but unflinchingly earnest--are arguably Lewis' strongest suit, especially in his recent work, and if the instances on A Turn in the Dream-Songs aren't quite as striking as those on its predecessor, the album still ranks right up there among his best.

As the album concludes somewhere in the seventh minute of "Tether," all the aim-for-the-heights stuff they're about just becomes its own locked-in loop, an epicness that feels less remarkable than simply familiar.

This is a record designed to be listened to in isolation, preferably through a massive pair of high-quality headphones rather than in the mass communal surroundings of a club.

It's almost one high point after another.

If Gauntlet Hair are promising rather than solid, they're promising nonetheless, one band of many with a shot at a further brass ring after 2011.

It's certainly accomplished and self-assured, and at its best the results are truly impressive.

Lydia Loveless' Indestructible Machine possesses a classicist's grip of country, a rock & roll sense of swagger, and the keen eye of a songwriter twice her age.

The Bootleg Series, Vol. 1: Live in Europe 1967 box is an essential addition to the catalog.

Beyond the Sun plays it cool and plays it authentic--these aren't reinterpretations, but sincere homages--and if this doesn't have much grit, it has plenty of style and heart.

An affable shrug of an album, it's fine, but that's not necessarily OK.

While it may not be quite as striking as Saturdays = Youth, it delivers a welcome mix of classic sounds and promising changes.

The songwriting is more disciplined, and the arrangements and production are tighter. Together they create a seamless but welcome change in aesthetic direction.

You'd have to go a long way to hear a better synth pop album, no matter what decade you examine.

Solid yet understated, it's Hannigan's obvious gift for melody, tasteful arrangements, and remarkably emotive elocution (when her voice breaks, the heart follows suit) that keeps Passenger afloat, while the world schemes and churns beneath.

In a way, this is overkill indeed--over 100 minutes of remixes for a 40-minute album. However, it's also fascinating to hear how this current crop of producers--spanning abstract hip-hop, house, dubstep, bass music, and experimental techno, all selected by Thom Yorke--twists, bends, adjusts, and appropriates the source material.

The melodies remain fuzzily in focus, so Ashes & Fire winds up as ever-shifting mood music, sustaining an appealingly lazy haze residing somewhere south of melancholy.

New Blood isn't always as astonishing but that's fine.

While nobody expects cohesiveness from these guys, Monkeytown is at least commendably concise--their leanest and tightest offering yet.

It's a testament to Hawthorne's songwriting ability that this wall is easily scaled after one or two listens, and that the man sounds more natural and loose than on his debut might be this album's greatest asset, making the vulgar drops and other nods to the present feel less mannered than before.

yron Gallimore, who previously produced Sugarland and Faith Hill, gives Wildflower an appealing gloss that helps disguise the ordinariness of the material along with any of Alaina's shortcomings, and that slickness serves Wildflower well, making it a much more enjoyable piece of product than McCreery's Clear as Day.

There's a cohesiveness issue that keeps this one off their top shelf, but Erasure have settled nicely into that groove that the best veteran bands often do.

Loyal fans of underground hip-hop already know he's earned that crown on the cover, and with this purposefully packaged showcase now in place, the uninitiated have no excuse.

Educational and emotional in a uniquely approachable way, these songs are a lovely part of a bigger picture.

The Suicide-meets-Can growl that opens "Green and Blue," for instance, may be a familiar element in other revivals, but Cronin puts enough of a hooky spin on the feedback rampage to help make it stand out as the album's first down-the-line success.

Red is a strong step forward for a very promising band that arrived with an intriguing voice already established and has now made it even richer and more interesting.

These quintessential Rifles offerings may appease those deterred by the album's unexpected wistful nature, but Freedom Run's inherent charm has the potential to elevate the band into the big league, regardless of how many longterm fans stay on board or jump ship.