A pure speaker-blowing party record, Biasonic Hotsauce is a vast improvement on Bias' previous effort, but it's difficult to see it making any waves outside the South London underground scene.

Beautifully crafted, if slightly inconsistent, Underrated Silence is undoubtedly still more of a mood setter than a head-bobber, but it's a far more challenging and ultimately rewarding listen than your average chill-out fare.

Come Back as Rain may be the perfect summer soundtrack for listeners looking for a less cerebral Band of Horses, a more ecumenical Fleet Foxes, or just a damn fine group of musicians with a knack for kicking out youthful, country-tinged pop songs without an agenda.

Rather than a catharsis or even an explosive slab of entertainment, Slug Guts have coughed up a visceral collection of desperate howls, sometimes difficult to engage with, but equally difficult to ignore.

The more physical moments are nearly outshone by a set of beat-less ambient pieces that amount to some of Locust's most riveting work.

Thanks to the introspective nature of the songs and the mannered production, they took something totally alive and wild, and wonderfully fun and exciting, and not so magically turned themselves into just another dime-a-dozen indie rock band.

Where My Weekly Reader shines is on the quieter moments.

No Manchester is a delight from start to finish, while being the absolute best kind of tribute album. It brings out what's special in the songs while giving them new life in a brand new context.

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.

At its best, this debut is a joyful testament to coming out the other side of trauma, though at times, some of the arrangements rely a little too heavily on repetition, taking the album's title quite literally. Still, it's nice to hear Johnson step out on his own and deliver a meaningful set of songs.

While it doesn't feel quite as honed as some of the Cribs' other albums, 24-7 Rock Star Shit is a lot of fun, as well as more proof that the band's eternal tug of war between grit and polish still generates excitement.

Taking on both the BS and sobering-side-of-life lessons while straddling genres would be difficult for any musician, but Sage did it and came up with a B-plus effort. More tangible proof that he’s a gifted artist.

What any of this has to do with rodeos (although they come up in the lyrics) is anybody's guess; Dawn Landes is no cowgirl, but rather a quirky indie singer/songwriter with a light touch.

[A] rare, pleasingly unfiltered debut that captures an exciting upcoming artist with little refinement.

The truth is this sounds less like a 50/50 collaboration than a Joseph Arthur album with Peter Buck pitching in. Which is not at all bad, of course; as usual, Arthur's lyrics are bold, clever, and incisive, his vocals are passionate and reveal just the right amount of drama, and the melodies are strong, with Buck adding an extra spoonful of melodic bounce.

Helpfully rounds up 18 of these guest appearances, including a cut by the Jones-fronted country cabaret outfit the Little Willies, and what impresses is the range of collaborators and the consistency of the music.

This volume is a success and points the way toward new and compelling -- if still amorphous -- territory between rhythmic and electronic improvisation.

Just Go, slightly more so than Coming Home, tends to be a happy (and comforting) medium between Richie's familiar approach and contemporary R&B.

Nasty as he wants to be, Ghostdini is nothing more than the Face and friends having a good time. The results are as improper as they are infectious.

The strength of the album is that it doesn't sound like it was written by a bunch of Nashville pros--its mellow vibes and occasional soft romantic touch feel true to Currington.

These songs also reflect how When Saints Go Machine have expanded and enriched their sound on Infinity Pool even more than Konkylie might have suggested.

If the seats at brunch are all taken by indie kids and laid-back electronica fans, Wedding Bells is a suitable soundtrack.

Ultimately, Dead Man's Town is a good idea executed poorly, an effort to peel back the veneer from Springsteen's songs that manages to toss away much of the core at the same time.

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard have never been known for being concise or streamlined, but they show on Quarters that blowing out (more than usual) their sounds and elongating their songs to extremes works really well for them.

The instrumental interludes between tunes--the aimless meandering of "Muddy Dune," the squiggling "Ash Toke," and the squall of "Pincher"--are just long enough to distract and blunt the twisted, head-crushing impact of Kunk somewhat.

Live Life Fast is a strong sophomore effort, one that finds Ricch taking a few moderate risks alongside his attempts to repeat the approach that worked so well on his debut.

Audio, Video, Disco might just be the quintessential example of pop music in the Internet world where everything is available, and available to shuffle, but the main point is good times, great record.

Tennis are making some of the best pop music around in 2012, and that's plenty good enough.