At their best, recall a sort of world-weary punk troubadour but occasionally feel a bit too put on. For the most part, though, Restorations succeed in delivering a well-built album that feels ambitious but remains engaging, with its sights set on the wide-open horizon.

Third album Lifer continues that album’s gnarled tendencies, offering up blurry washes of ghastly rock that have more in common with '90s metal-leaning grunge acts than the sometimes artsy punk undercurrents that wander in and out of Dope Body's sound.

Possibly too understated, Woolhouse could benefit from more pronounced changes and variations in his writing, but taken as a whole Songs is a warmly rendered mood piece full of layers and quiet yearning.

Ultimately, while Bass Drum of Death's reach never exceeds their grasp--there's no MC5-style ersatz free jazz, let alone a guitar solo to be found here--Rip This nonetheless grabs your ears like a drunken biker in a bar fight, letting go long enough for you to pick yourself off the floor just in time to get pummeled again.

It may not displace Toro y Moi as Bundick's most satisfying project, but as an outlet for his dance music urges, Les Sins works very well.

Gilmour and Mason know this is their farewell, so they're saying goodbye not with a major statement but with a soft, bittersweet elegy that functions as a canny coda to their career.

Where the band's last effort was rooted in their past, Last Act of Defiance has its feet firmly planted in the present with a message that feels both important and timely, making for a solid album that shows Sick of It All aren't just going through the motions.

Devilish and delicious, the album can be precious to a fault, as following all the Queen-sized arrangements and all the Adam Lambert-esque sass isn't an everyday thing for most.

Blood In, Blood Out, much like Cannibal Corpse's 2014 offering Skeletal Domain, sounds remarkably dialed-in for a band so long in the tooth, and while it doesn't break any new ground for the stalwart rockers, it certainly does little to tarnish their reputation as thrash royalty.

A Minus the Bear record is fairly consistent, but given the quality of this band's output and the uniqueness of their sound, it comes as no surprise that not only are their cast-offs pretty solid, but that make for an oddly good album when strung together.

Below the Pink Pony doesn't always carve out a signature sound for the Fauntleroys, but there's a whole lot of talent in this band and they know how to make room for one another; hopefully there will be a full-length Fauntleroys album that will allow them to build on the impressive work they put in on this quick, dirty, and rewarding debut.

Ultimately, with Alix, Generationals deliver quirky, catchy pop songs that stick in your head like DayGlo bubblegum on a hot summer parking lot.

Almost all of this virtual grab bag's 12 songs go in slightly different directions, from the spoken-sung punk essay of the title track to cold lo-fi synth minimalism on "Psycho Structures" to a fairly straight-faced cover of Nancy Sinatra's country-rock classic "These Boots."

Ultimately, it’s Haerts' combination of straightforward, rootsy melodicism and more experimental, ambient inclinations that helps them grab your ear and your heart.

Even if there's a lingering predictability in the paths the Foo Fighters follow on Sonic Highways, they nevertheless know how to make this familiar journey pleasurable.

Brooks doesn't try to do anything differently; he just picks up where he left off and the time away has only made it clearer how he's different from all that came before and all that came since.

Fans who were drawn to 2:54's introspective blend the first time will see this as a natural continuation of their deepening, subtly changing world.

A creative step forward for Such Gold as they step back from the poppier accents of their 2012 debut, Misadventures, and embrace more complicated song structures and deeply personal lyrical themes.

A fascinating if not entirely comprehensive set of oddball, largely homespun-sounding sonic emissions that feel a little half-baked, but still awfully tasty.

Burnett and the New Basement Tapes remain faithful to the spirit of The Basement Tapes yet take enough liberties to achieve their own identity, which is a difficult trick to achieve.

Coming in at 24 minutes and with seven cuts on the track list, this is EP-sized and not long enough for the full artist picture, but that said, there's no filler, either.

Fortunately, as a collection of forgotten odds and ends, Release doesn't have to fall into line with the rest of their discography, though the fact that even their forgotten 4-track tapes and VHS masters work better as an album than some band's first choice material is a testament to Cave's songwriting prowess and stellar musicianship.

Though the way Pink zigs and zags on Pom Pom can be dazzling or confusing depending on listeners' patience, in its own way it's one of the best representations of what makes his music fascinating and occasionally frustrating.

Luckily on Four the scales are tipped heavily in favor of the kind of songs they do best, with the majority of them sounding like good-time hits that will go a long way toward warming up a cold November night.

If it doesn't always feel like the dream collaboration between these gifted relations, Family clearly demonstrates what makes them special, individually and collectively.

The album won't take the place of anyone's day job, but it is a nice diversion for all involved.

This vibrant jumble of audio adrenaline with flecks of deep thought is, at the very least, an intriguing stab at taking stadium EDM experience somewhere bigger, and better for the soul.

The producer likewise incorporates vocals, either mostly or completely sampled, that tend to evoke senses of longing, losing grasp, and persevering.