Lean, deafening, and effective in its brutality, Bleeding Through may not have brought anything new to the table, but at least it brought everything else.

Fornever is one of those rare, late-career triumphs. There are no weak tracks and it’s entertaining throughout; every bit as much as Murs’ best early outings.

The timing could be much better, but the songs aren’t bad at all, with most of the material taking its cues from Jason Mraz, Ben Harper, and other folk-pop heavyweights.

It’s the first half of the album that is more substantive and memorable.

The Legacy Edition of Raw Power honors this great album better than the Iggy Pop remix that's been its only digital representation since 1997, but the extras included here fall short of making this the definitive release of the James Williamson-era Stooges' bloodied but unbowed triumph.

Animal Feelings is still more sweet than sweaty, and may not get indie diehards to shake what their mamas gave them. Nevertheless, it more than delivers on the promise of Rafter's earlier music and fits right in with YACHT, Dan Deacon, Bobby Birdman, and the other acts fusing electronic, pop, R&B, and indie pop elements into playful grooves.

Their charm wears thin with each passing track, and Stride's hit-making approach becomes increasingly plain in the process. In the end, it's something of a blessing that Everybody Wants to Be on TV is over and done with in a mere 34 minutes' time.

While it's hardly the stark, across-the-board tonal sea change suggested by several of its most immediately ear-catching cuts, And Then We Saw Land is at once an adventurous outward journey and an invitingly familiar return from an always intriguing, intrepid, and under-heralded band.

I Speak Because I Can delivers on nearly every level, upping both the production value (thanks to Ryan Adams and Kings of Leon producer Ethan Johns and fellow indie folk darlings Mumford & Sons) and the songwriting.

If Sigur Ros never releases another album, as long as Jonsi makes records this thrilling, it'll be OK.

And while the story hangs together quite well, the main impression you are left with is that Byrne and Slim have impeccable taste in female singers.

All this would be surface charm if the group didn’t deliver songs, and they do--songs that swagger and stir the soul, fitting within tradition without being beholden to it, songs that prove that Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings are the real deal.

Wolf’s touch here is easy and assured, so it feels familiar upon the first spin but better upon repeats, when the songs truly take hold and the conversational nature of the performances settle in, revealing the warmth and skill beneath the surface.

Robyn Hitchcock doesn't really make bad albums, but he doesn't always make legitimately great ones; Propellor Time thankfully feels like one of the high-watermarks of his post-millennial body of work, and it's beautiful, essential listening.

This is still a Dr. Dog album and it's bound to put a smile on your face. These guys have a real knack for making classic-sounding rock & roll and Shame, Shame is the sound of a fine band really hitting its stride.

Woman + Country is somewhat of a grower--it's so purposefully hazy it seems to pleasingly fade into the slipstream upon the first play, but those repeated spins reveal the deep craft at the heart of Woman + Country, deep craft from both the songwriter, his producer, and musicians.

Sometimes it's enough to write really catchy and fun songs and play them with a minimum of fuss. Harlem has done that on Hippies, and for that, they deserve all kinds of praise.

Yeah, it's that stoney and weird, but it's also really, really good. Potentially their most accomplished work.

It's a comfortable and familiar fit that poses only one significant problem: nobody bothered to write any songs; they're just playing for the sake of playing.

For the most part, the cutesiness is kept just controlled enough to make the songs intriguing.

Per usual, the music is skewed and exhausting (in the best way imaginable) and the rhythmic interplay between bassist Jacob Long and drummer Damon Palermo is fantastic.

The record isn’t a complete knockout, but it’s a nice consolidation of the Dum Dum Girls sound to date and a fine starting point in what could be a nice string of noise pop records.

Freight Train, Alan Jackson’s 16th album, has none of the momentum of a locomotive but all of the reassuring sturdiness of a hulking piece of steel: this is music built for distance, not speed.

The sleek dancefloor track “So Many Girls,” one of a few songs in which Usher sounds dead in the eyes, going through the motions, desensitized by the bounty of women at his feet, is followed by the sarcastically titled “Guilty,” where he whines “I guess I’m guilty for wanting to be up in the club” — which warrants a response like “Yes, attached 31-year-old man, that’s correct.” A few songs before that is a quasi-redemptive ballad “Foolin’ Around”; he humbles himself, seems to take responsibility for his actions, then casually drops “Guess that’s just the man in me, blame it on celebrity.”

Return of the Ankh is a relief in that Badu does not attempt to trump herself with a set that is even more intense and powerful than its predecessor.

While the experiment with a more edgy, rock-oriented sound worked well for the British duo, singer/songwriters Olly Knights and Gale Paridjanian are obviously most at home with their comfortable brand of melodic folk-inflected pop, and that is the sound that makes up most of the tracks on Outbursts.

There are too many good moments, and Golightly is too talented a singer to dismiss this, but at the same time, this album just doesn't live up to her high standards, and she's done too much work far better than this for any fans to not feel a bit letdown by this release.

Down the Way may be a bit long by 2010’s standards--there are 13 tracks here, none of which is particularly short--but the songs are solid throughout.