On Again into Eyes, they take listeners down a fairly well-traveled musical road, but it's still an enjoyable journey.

Except for the occasionally bumpy ride, though, The Less You Know, The Better is one of the most entertaining albums of the year, with countless moments of brilliance.

Given that the core members are composer Dustin O'Halloran and Stars of the Lid veteran Adam Wiltzie, it's little surprise that both those conventions, and how to work well beyond them, are within their grasp on this debut release.

After three more amorphous recordings, Trust Now reveals a mature, realized Prince Rama sound, at once intoxicating and beguiling.

He's proceeding at the pace of a 74-year-old legend with nothing to prove, yet he's not resting on his laurels, he's just doing what he's always done: singing songs so expertly his virtuosity almost goes unnoticed.

People and Things might not be as accessible as Everything in Transit, which contained some of the brightest pop songs of McMahon's career, but it's stronger than The Glass Passenger, indicating that McMahon has begun to move onward and upward.

There's a soft-spoken power to Metals, even if its songs are more liquid and atmospheric than the title suggests.

While Conatus isn't as direct as Stridulum, it's still some of her most satisfying work.

Their darkest and most complex work yet, In the Pit of the Stomach unleashes We Were Promised Jetpacks' full fury with impressive results.

Apart from ["You Make That Look Good" and "Write My Number on Your Hand"], the songs and production demand that all energy come from young Scotty, who amiably sleepwalks through the tunes.

Kasabian have been a band of post-Brit-pop possibilities from the get go, so bringing in techno, ethnic sounds, and an orchestra is coming home for this impudent crew.

Major/Minor will go down as another solid, if unspectacular, Thrice release.

For their third studio album...Megafaun dial back the more progressive elements of their sound in favor of a languid, Laurel Canyon-inspired foundation that treads the middle ground between Blitzen Trapper's experimental, neo-Southern rock romancing, and Will Oldham's post-Palace Music infatuation with American Beauty-era Grateful Dead.

The soundtrack to PJ20 is not for them, it's for those who have stuck with the group through thick and thin, through any number of new drummers, and they'll certainly find much that rewards their fandom here.

Credo could have been the perfect opportunity to prove to their devotees that they haven't lost their touch, but although there are a few flashes of their heyday's magic, it's a strangely low-key affair which is unlikely to inspire any future synth pop maestros.

Watch Me Dance is a triumphant speaker-blasting party record that cements Toddla T's reputation as the U.K.'s bass wonderkid.

Ultimately, Grouplove's Never Trust a Happy Song is a cohesive if ramshackle crowd-pleaser, full of melodic double-lead vocals, handclaps, ringing electric guitars, and staccato synth parts that tips a hat to '80s dance-rock while still retaining the band's obvious love of experimental '60s folk-rock.

This focus on approachability over impenetrability makes Dreams Come True not only a welcoming debut, but a fantastic entry point into the more experimental side of electronic music.

Granted, they're not fishing for another viral earworm here, but you'd think they could come up with something better -- for the lead single, no less -- than "Michael Jackson"'s feeble placeholder of a refrain.

While their play-it-safe approach may mean they're less likely to suffer the rapid sales decline of their contemporaries, they are now in danger of becoming indie pop's answer to Westlife.

Staind may not be much more than noise -- it's not especially hooky or melodic -- but the group wins points for unexpectedly delivering something visceral.

Ironically, this very looseness not only results in a lively listen, but the polite messiness of Pajama Club winds up as a greater testament to his songwriting skills than the last Crowded House album; as the cliché goes, his throwaways are better than many artist's keepers.

As a record, this The Sea of Memories is easily the most enjoyable collection of songs released under Bush's name.

Daybreak is successful on two levels: in the way it touches on the best elements of Saves the Day's past works, it's a welcome entry point for new listeners; and with its freshness, it assures established fans that the band is still invigorated after going at it for over a decade.

For the Devil Wears Prada's fourth album, Dead Throne, the Christian metalcore six-piece is at its most technical and most brutal.

While fans might be disappointed that the album doesn't feature "Herb" Alexander, they'll have a hard time being disappointed with Green Naugahyde, an album that will satisfy those in the know while continuing, as Primus always have, to baffle the uninitiated.

Believers sounds much more like Bondy has simply followed his own muse for a change, and the results reveal his confidence was well founded.

Butcher Boy were always going to find it hard to step out of the shadows of their more celebrated chamber pop neighbors, and while Helping Hands is by no means a miserable failure in doing so, it's at its strongest when it embraces their similarities rather than their differences.