For a string band album titled Autumn, they deliver exactly what you'd want: a nuanced selection of warm, earthy music replete with gentle guitar picking, woody mandolin, muted banjo, occasional piano, and a robust vocal blend to evoke the wistful changing of the season.

Nothing here has the upbeat pop appeal of "2 On" or any of the unincluded post-Aquarius singles, but this is clearly designed for a different purpose.

Daniel still sounds like he's developing his sound with this album, but it's a noble effort, and certainly recommended for fans of Detroit dance music or the rougher, more off-beat side of house.

Fans will appreciate the new directions and there's enough on W:/2016ALBUM/ to introduce curious new listeners to the mutable world of the mau5.

Harlequin is the type of album that may not please those who hear the saucy single and come for more of the same, but it may thrill certain headphoned listeners who appreciate both classic songwriting and an audacious approach.

It may not be as riveting or intense, but it still has the unmistakable Burial sound and it's still unpredictable, so it's still well worth the listener's time.

Their self-described "acoustic-live remix" can be a little tentative at times. Nevertheless, it's a worthy showcase for Torrini's excellent body of work and achieves a level of quality that many live recordings fail to reach.

Despite self-imposed strategic boundaries, The Rest Is Scenery is a remarkably free and unfettered album. Most artists couldn't conceive of such a thing, let alone pull it off; Youngs does it in spades.

At times wistful and contemplative, frequently explosive, and pleasantly damaged, Worry. holds true to its creator's D.I.Y. aesthetic and pop-punk/ska roots while continuing to emphasize his new power pop direction.

It's this lack of an overall aesthetic that makes Last Night on the Planet feel more like a compilation of singles than a full-fledged album; while the duo's skills are still evident, unfortunately the results aren't as rewarding as before.

As a whole, Tolchin's rootsy acoustic mix works for him, though he shines brightest on the folkier, more heartfelt tracks.

The band's return to basics here is effective with Calder at the helm, and results in an affecting record with consistent intensity and enough hooks to promote both catharsis and return visits.

Like many a Christmas collection, the record becomes less elegant on sillier tunes like "Must Be Santa" (derived from a German drinking song) and a strangely plaintive version of the Chipmunks' "Christmas Don't Be Late." These diversions are limited, though, and, remarkably, don't include a rather beautiful rendition of "Mele Kalikimaka." Taken together, Christmas Party is a charmer.

Not every track works and it's unlikely to replace Vince Guaraldi's A Charlie Brown Christmas in terms of sheer comfort, but it's certainly honest and offers an alternative to the parade of musical schmaltz that arrives like clockwork each season.

The album's deliberately murky tone (courtesy of Taylor Goldsmith and Jim James) doesn't always help, but in spite of its sometimes gimmicky tone, Sweet Creep is evidence that Jonny Fritz is a genuine talent and a first-rate songwriter, and with luck, he'll let his guard down some time and let us hear him without his persona getting in the way.

It’s as consistent and bombastic as anything in their catalog--making it a good place to start for newcomers, too.

As with all of his ambient works, it's minimal and non-distracting, but there are subtle alterations and changes, and it does reward any amount of attention paid to it.

While the album makes more of an impression as a whole than do individual songs, it makes a lasting one.

Wayne Coyne, Steven Drozd and company soften some of The Terror's rough edges in favor of a more eclectic, melodic sound that spans hip-hop, prog, and orchestral elements, sometimes in the course of a single song.

Perhaps the biggest surprise of all, though, is that Sohn hasn't pushed his musical boundaries further; perhaps next time he will completely run wild.

Silver Tears is steeped in musical knowledge but delivered with a lighthearted touch and plenty of personality.

By letting go of a little of their rage, Cloud Nothings let more light and shadow into Life Without Sound with promising results.

Overall a tweaked follow-up that's likely to bring along existing fans, Trials & Truths is like a puffy chair with a window view; it doesn't demand attention but offers thoughtful escape.

With Migration, Green blends the unexpected with the familiar and emerges with some of his most affecting work yet.

Machine Messiah is an ambitious, angry, hungry outing. Sepultura remain vital in their creativity; they expand their palette dramatically while fully integrating the sounds that brought them here.

The duo’s effective use of reverbs and filters works wonders here, transporting the listener through an array of the same kinds of sounds, but they're treated whole-heartedly and differently with each moment.

This record works as an apt elegy to the band, and despite never again managing to reach the high-water mark Piano Magic achieved with Low Birth Weight, Closure remains a fine final flourish.

On Hear the Lions Roar, Half Japanese demonstrate that after nearly 40 years of music-making, they're still creating some of the most engaging recordings of their lives, and that's truly something to believe in.