If the Banditos' first album was promising, Visionland proves they have the talent and strength to do this more than once, and there's as much sheer talent on display here as in any band in the roots rock underground today.

Sometimes, Luke LaLonde's yawp pierces through this stylish murk, as if he's impatient with these mannered arrangements, but this tension also provides a perhaps necessary counterpoint to Born Ruffians' newfound earnestness; it adds color and dimension, keeping the songs from seeming po-faced and giving Uncle, Duke & the Chief just enough jolt to be unpredictable.

It's a fair guess that he has a workshop full of chorus, flange, and delay pedals from that era at his disposal, considering that every instrument and vocal line is run through one effect or another, making most of the album unintelligible or indecipherable, but it's just that limitless, everything-including-the-kitchen-sink way of working that makes Blank Dogs so special and interesting.

While The Feeling's playfulness is missed, on Television Man Naomi Punk are a more singular, more insular act, and their cerebral approach to visceral sounds is still fascinating, if perhaps a shade less novel than before.

They're a good match. Jones' suppleness sands down Armstrong's ragged voice, he gives her grit while she lends him grace and these qualities are evident throughout this lovely little gem of an album.

While this LP is yet another release that is not Maxinquaye, compared to the average Tricky album, it's accessible, mostly focused, and offers a handful of moments that remind listeners of his early promise and hold attention until his next effort.

Keeping a good thing going, Uncle Charlie follows the formula of the former Gap Band vocalist's previous release, "Charlie, Last Name Wilson," which climbed to number ten on Billboard's album chart.

On this return to simpler times and the childish wide-eyed beauty of youth, Marsalis has struck a chord with those awkward, precious times in a way that adults can appreciate.

It says quite a bit about Nelly Furtado's ambitions and skill when her Spanish detour winds up being arguably her strongest album yet.

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.

No one doubts the power in Nettles' throaty contralto, but some of these songs feel too calculated or require more subtlety to completely pull off. That said, these simple shortcomings won't--nor should they--deter her fans.

While there isn't much separating Rented World from the Menzingers' sophomore effort musically, there's a contemplative aura surrounding the songs that shows all of the hallmarks of a band growing into more nuanced and capable songwriters.

Electric Youth's debut is a well-constructed, carefully thought-out debut that belies its long gestation process and will make people who fell in love with them thanks to the Drive soundtrack very happy in a melancholy kind of way.

This LP will no doubt please listeners with an ear for more astringent experimentations, but for the most part, it seems like Rats on Rafts have drifted a bit too far into their own ambitions at the expense of their songs.

With three albums under his belt, Vance has settled into a nice groove, and on The Wild Swan, he's pulled off a neat trick. He dons some familiar hats, but never loses himself beneath the brim.

Despite all of its sonic busyness, the vast majority of which falls in the category of charming rather than challenging, the album ultimately comes off as a little goofy, fun, and full of promise.

At times, the band's obvious affection for moody, Joy Division-esque post-punk feels a little too heavy-handed, but amid their ongoing sonic evolution there's some solid songwriting.

It has a few worthy cuts and in its ungainly construction, it holds true to the weirdness of most of Russell's discography.

Romantic, sophisticated, and rich with vocal prowess, Nat "King" Cole & Me lives up to both Cole and Porter's own immense creative reputations.

Since this is a series of five-song EPs, Human Problems isn't paced like an LP, which is a benefit. Perhaps there are moments that drift, such as the mellow bachelor pad neo-instrumental "Everything Is Now," but they're designed that way, offering color and texture to music that already had a surplus of both.

While not as spontaneous or weird as some of Torske's other efforts, Byen is unmistakably well-crafted, and works on the dancefloor as well as a soundtrack for zoning out.

If emotionally unresolved, Ongoing Dispute does deliver on engaging hooks and rousing choruses, at least until that wistful outro, "Friends on Ice," which closes the album in a wash of chiming guitars and circular thought.

Rest assured, songs including the opening "Millions of Heartbeats" make clear that Nash hasn't lost her impudent flair; however, by the end of the record, any cheekiness is easily outweighed by disarming earnestness.

Why Bother? is even more radical [than its predecessor], pairing dead-calm passages with weird and often downright evil-sounding electronics that recall Throbbing Gristle and Wolf Eyes.

Past a few missteps, the album is a winning embrace of hip-hop with commentaries on beefs, nostalgic pining for better days, and a positive outlook for the future of the genre.

Spirit Counsel is an ambitious but focused masterwork of Moore's expansive and specific approach to experimental instrumental music.

None of these tracks rank among Wild Nothing's strongest work, but they serve as an excellent extension of the relaxed, beatific mood Indigo cultivated.

The rebooted Immersion sounds far more engaging than the project's original incarnation, which had a tendency to meander, and Sleepless is certainly one of its best efforts.