A bit of a grower, Jaakko Eino Kalevi is a subtly enticing album that establishes his niche within experimental pop.

Cemetery Highrise Slum is a worthy effort with a highly crafted vibe, but Creepoid's personality only shines through some of the time.

In the end, the infamous LP isn't the album of the year, but it isn't an artistic flop either, just a pleasing effort from a punchline-dealing party gangsta who knows the power of a good hook.

Everybody Is Going to Heaven is a bold statement full of creative ideas, but it's not without its growing pains.

A surprising amount of funky electro helps separate this groovemaster from the competition.

Vulnerable, seductive, and expansive, Inji is a promising reintroduction to Eastgate's music that honors his past while moving forward.

When Koze finally gets around to mixing in some house tracks, they're midtempo and bittersweet rather than high-energy floor fillers, and uniformly excellent, particularly Frank & Tony's sublime "Bring the Sun. One wonders how astonishing the mix would be if it had consisted entirely of tracks like this, but the variety is refreshing, and Koze's adventurous spirit is always admirable.

While the lyrics still bristle with discontent, they're less defiant and more concerned with the journey than they are the inevitable descent/ascent to oblivion.

This is the work of an artist eager to explore new paths, and if it isn't a complete success, I Aubade confirms Perkins is still a vital and imaginative artist with a singular vision.

Not all bands have to reinvent the wheel; they just need to roll it with some passion and dedication. Fist City do that and more on Everything Is a Mess.

Fingers, Bank Pads & Shoe Prints is another thrilling, occasionally confounding collection that demonstrates why RP Boo is one of Chicago's most unique, innovative producers.

An engaging debut from a band that hits a graceful midpoint between The Basement Tapes and the Gourds, not to mention delivering one of 2015's more pleasant surprises.

Simply viewed as a contemporary ska album, Subculture is fine stuff with some inspired moments and consistently engaging performances, and if your tastes run to the old school in both ska and reggae, this should be just what your sound system has been missing lately.

All told, on top of Yukon Blonde's engaging songwriting, production by Tiger Talk's Colin Stewart and mixing by Tony Hoffer (OK Go, Depeche Mode, the Kooks) combine for a winning dose of sensual, high-octane, synth-psych indie grub.

Dark Matter/Dark Energy is a potent reminder that Robb and his collaborators are still finding their way into the heart of darkness (which isn't too far from their hometown), and sending back compelling reports of what they've seen and heard.

Ultimately, Between the Buried & Me, despite employing many tropes and influences, come off sounding like no one but themselves.

Engaging songwriting, with lyrics mostly of the love variety here, also anchor her solidly in worthwhile territory--Work It Out is far from a sellout-type effort.

Portraits establishes Maribou State as an intriguing pair of sonic architects, capable of crafting intricate but not cluttered, blue but not depressing, emotive electronic pop music.

While Walker doesn't push his sound forward that much, little of what's here is forgettable, and it's all constructed with a good time in mind.

Among scads of other bands that specialized in hectoring vocals, droning basslines, battering drums, and scraping guitars, In Camera weren't all that distinctive, but they created quite a racket.

Unpredictable and ruthlessly abstract, Pattern of Excel is possibly the most avant-garde release in Ninja Tune's long history, and may seem like a stark departure from Lee Bannon's earlier works, but it's really just a continuation of his tendency to follow his fearlessly creative spirit into uncharted territory.

Hammer of the Witches doesn't reach the heights of Dusk of Her Embrace, but it does offer proof that there is plenty of fire and creativity left in Cradle of Filth.

Even with its relatively brief running time (44 minutes), Atheist's Cornea is an exhausting, exhilarating listen.

If How Far Will You Go is hit-and-miss as music, it's a remarkable document of a forgotten musical detour on the way to the sexual revolution, utterly fearless and not much like anything else of its era.

The EP leads with a pair of sludgy pysch jams, decelerates for the slightly abrasive "drumless space" of "Coma," and closes with the side-long "Radial," which begins and ends with shifting drones that flank seven minutes of searing menace that recall early, "the Can"-era Can.

Call Me Insane shows the honky tonk man can still write 'em and sing 'em as well as you could hope, and he's not slowing down a quarter-century into his career.

While a few tracks sound too similar to each other, How Does It Feel's best moments deliver pop accessibility without sacrificing any of MS MR's identity.

Ultimately, Music for Drifters ebbs and flows with the documentary, moving from idyllic seaside splendor to foreboding mid-ocean swells and back again.