There are a few moments on the album where the drums sound a little cluttered or it isn't quite clear what direction a song is going in, although perhaps that's to be expected for music meant to be this dreamlike--it's not always supposed to make perfectly logical sense. Regardless, the album is a delightful trip from an unmistakably original artist.

Lines, Vols. 1–3 continues to look to the past for inspiration, yet it does so with a contemporary flair, deftly utilizing the airy, chamber pop stylings of musical arranger and producer Adrian McNally.

For an album that hinges on frantic idea swapping, Birthday manages to consistently surprise, making it something of a celebration of kooky guitar-driven pop, all the while maintaining momentum and a sense of unbridled joy.

Telekinesis isn't often cited as one of America's best and smartest pop acts, but Effluxion demonstrates Learner lives up to that billing, and this LP is a real treat for power pop obsessives and anyone who likes some melodies with their rock & roll.

The resulting album has a fuller sound, though it's still distinctly intimate. Lyrically, Placeholder explores various relationships--good and bad--which is reflected in a musical demeanor that's both melancholy and sweet.

American Love Call is the first album this band has recorded in a proper studio, and though the production is cleaner and the arrangements are more ambitious than those on their self-titled 2016 debut, the addition of strings and horns don't clutter the surroundings and instead refine and focus the sound of a band that already had a good thing going.

Guitar slayers notwithstanding, Nobody Told Me is a hallmark Mayall date, chock-full of great songs and performances that underscore his considerable (and well-deserved) reputation.

There's more than a hint of soul and gospel, tempered with arty arena rock that's drawn equally from U2 and Peter Gabriel--but the overall feeling isn't anguished, it's consoling. It's a subtle but notable shift that lends emotional gravity to a singer/songwriter who already favored weighty topics.

It's Pond's personality that shines brightest on Tasmania, and they've turned these songs into an off-kilter gem that's worth exploring.

Foals have always been deft wielders of unease, and the shambolic Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost feels certain in its uncertainty. Whether or not all of these stylistic shifts find some common ground with the release of volume two remains to be seen, but there's no denying the vitality that runs through this ten-song set, nor the inescapable feeling of doom.

The sound isn't a throwback to their first (or second) great era so much as it reflects the best qualities of their more mature work, and if it's not quite what some folks may have hoped for, it's a pleasing and well-crafted set that reminds listeners this band is still vital and productive.

The first album from the rebooted Test Dept. is an update of their '80s aesthetic, with metallic percussion, dramatic samples, and aggressive, political lyrics all forming the basis of the group's sound.

Donnelly never wavers in her directness or honesty, but doesn't equate strong statements with volume. Instead, her well-constructed and sometimes weightless songs crush their enemies with a knowing smile and a gentle fist.

By foregrounding her lyrical intent and offering no room for interpretation, Morris winds up with songs that feel less imaginative than their execution, a flaw that is by no means fatal but does mean that Girl plays on a smaller scale than intended.

Against all odds, Weller has delivered a live album as quietly adventurous and resonant as the studio album it supports.

As a whole, Hexed may be CoB's most diverse and expansive-sounding album to date, ranging between their roots sound and adventurous experimentation. The synthesis approach found here makes for a compelling, deeply satisfying outing.

Recorded alone by Malkmus with the support of a stack of synths, drum machines, and a handful of guitars, Groove Denied doesn't fundamentally push at the boundaries of his music. Whatever electronic influence there is here, it's grounded in a stylized nod toward the pioneering, eerie analog experimentalism of the post-punk era.

To Believe is very much an experience that requires engagement if a worthwhile connection is desired; otherwise, it makes for a terrific soundtrack to a film that resides purely in the soul.

All the sonic elements are in place, so it's slightly disappointing that the songs aren't as vivid as the album's deliberately hazy vibe.

One might not have expected the Coathangers to still be making interesting music 12 years after their debut album hit the streets in 2007, but The Devil You Know reveals growing up doesn't have to be a bad thing after all.

Wener treats the new Sleeper songs as a series of short stories, and that gives The Modern Age its true spine, helping it escape the clutches of nostalgia.

Combining the no-rules ethos of the noise scene with the technical precision of metal results in a sound that coveys its punishing statements without sacrificing musicality and, indeed, exists as an artistic embodiment of off-the-charts anxiety.

It took some goading from My Morning Jacket members Carl Broemel, Bo Koster, Patrick Hallahan, and Tom Blankenship, who also serve as the backup band, but Showalter found his voice again, and the resulting 11-track set strikes a winning balance between dusty, soul-bearing Midwest folk and sanguine heartland rock.

Anyone over the age of 40 should recognize most of what they're singing about, and even if you don't, the sweeping melancholy and epic presentation should be enough to make this deep dive into relaxed angst a journey worth taking for the third time.

Here he emphasizes how he's absorbed those sounds and styles, turning them into something idiosyncratic and distinctive. This unadorned setting shifts attention not just to Snider's verbal wit but to his sly phrasing: "Working on a Song" and "Talking Reality Television Blues" find him setting up punch lines only to deliver them in unexpected ways.

Even though Gathered is very much a creative patchwork, it coheres thematically as well as musically, and sounds both sly and sincere. Howe Gelb's evolution from the most distinctive roots rocker in the desert to Arizona's most unlikely lounge singer is coming along nicely, and Gathered is a welcome addition to his catalog.

As expected from Apparat, LP5 is an ambitious, inventive album which runs on its own intuition, fusing studio wizardry with honest expression to frequently thrilling results.

As it is, it sounds like a brave experiment and a sincere effort to explore new creative avenues, but it's a long way from a rousing success. However, its high points leave one hoping that Farrar doesn't stop speaking his peace next time around.