An extended pilgrimage to New Orleans allowed the longtime friends to hone the 11 songs that make up Through Low Light and Trees into something truly magical, and while the album is clearly the product of the green fields and misty mountains of their homeland, it's obvious that the time spent in the Big Easy had a profound effect on them.

Happily, the partnership succeeds more often than not.

On his third album, John Maus continues his pursuit of immediacy-in-action mixed with a certain calm, developing a further tension that infuses both his music and words.

No one but one of the most talented and accomplished singers -- one with 16 Grammys, nothing left to prove, and every desired collaborator at her disposal -- could have made this album.

In another regard, Rave On Buddy Holly is quite different. Encouraged by producer Randall Poster, the 19 artists involved do not settle for mere replications of Buddy's hits, they play fast and loose, sometimes radically reinterpreting the original.

Special Affections is both special and affectionate, highly infectious and recommended.

This is indie rock where the big hooks and bold arrangements never get in the way of the complex emotions at the heart of these nine songs, and that's why five years isn't too long to wait for music this special.

While those who miss the band's old orchestral pop sound may cavil, Twist Again represents the opening of a promising new path for Bodies of Water.

New Brigade is charmingly underdeveloped, slapdash, and direct--in other words, absolutely thrilling.

Eleven Eleven shows he's a long way away from running out of ideas, and these 11 portraits of life in the Golden State are engrossing, thoughtful music that should satisfy old fans and engage those introducing themselves to his work for the first time.

This is a hip-hop-flavored club effort of Elephunk proportions and another high-water mark for the don of pop-rap's glitter dome.

Other than the annoyances listed, Don't Blame the Stars is an enjoyable, fairly well-executed album of decent Americana songs. No more, no less.

Only bummer for loyal fans is that five of these tracks are repeated from the Internet Leaks EP, but ignore that redundancy, and Al remains the undisputed king of the parody song.

Once again, this probably isn't an album that's going to bowl you over and set the world on fire; it's a grower. And it shows once again that Gomez know what they're going for and how to achieve it.

Perhaps if he were a more skilled producer and arranger, things would have been better. Unfortunately, his style comes off more like sub-Enya with a beard than a true studio wizard.

His knack for hooks and his skill at construction may mirror that of his father, but Liam Finn is his own man, displaying a keen fondness for psychedelia, and spending as much time crafting sound as song, resulting in a record that has enough hooks to pull a listener in on first spin, yet is dense enough to warrant decoding on subsequent plays.

Goodbye Bread sounds more like a "real album" than anything Ty Segall has done to date, but not so much so that it robs him of the loose-limbed soul that makes him memorable.

All in all, it's clear that chart-driven pop circa the second decade of the millennium rarely gets much better than LMFAO on this stand-out album.

On The Light of the Sun, Scott sounds more in control than ever; her spoken and sung phrasing (now a trademark), songwriting, and production instincts are all solid. This is 21st century Philly soul at its best.

Get Your Heart On! is every bit as tuneful as the group's debut.

That hint of edge, of literal weight, adds to the collage of tones on a piece like "Canyon Meadows" or acts as an undertow on the flow of "New Pures," helping to transform that feeling of contemplation while not actually crushing it in any sense.

It could use a couple throw-you-around-the-room rockers in the vein of Turn Me Loose's "Runnin'" and "Knockin'," although some listeners will be so struck by the sustained high level of confidence and grace that it won't be an issue.

Ultimately, What's It All About is an intimate work revealing Metheny's investigation of composition itself. The notion of song is inherent in everything he does, and he reveals that inspiration in spades here.

Nothing here feels the least bit overdone. Marissa Nadler is a sensual, provocative, enticing work of vision and maturity.

With folks like Currensy and French Montana lending features, along with a producers list that goes from Lex Luger to Lee Majors, the album is stuffed as it could be, but Ross has always been a wizard when it comes to picking high-profile friends that deliver.

It's rare for a band to keep getting better over time, especially after 15 years, but the Ladybug Transistor have done it, and whether you've been a fan the whole time or you are just discovering (or rediscovering) them with this album, there is enough good stuff here to make even the coldest-hearted music snob admit that there is music being made in 2011 that's just as good as anything made in 1965 or 1977, or any year.

Gimmicks abound on this dark carnival of an album, and if you can't hang with some murder talk and misogyny, it's best to stay away, but this fat, epic effort is still a swift thrill ride and doesn't bore despite its size.

When Art Department stick with their signature sound, even though it might not be exactly unique--it's easy enough to trace a lineage through seminal Chicago jack tracks, early-'90s disco house and the sleeker end of electro-clash to contemporary peers like Soul Clap and Benoit & Sergio--the results are nothing short of mesmerizing.