Electric Endicott confirms that the gifted outsider who allowed us to glance into his psyche on You Think You Really Know Me hasn't stopped pursuing his singular vision of twisted pop music, just as he still hasn't figured out how to deal with the opposite sex, and who knows: if he ever did, he might never be able to make music again.

For those quick to claim that guitar music is dead, Cadenza is a sharp reminder that the genre still has plenty of life left in it yet.

Player Piano offers enough of Hawk's characteristically inventive sonic tinkering -- including, the title notwithstanding, an intriguing emphasis on organ sounds -- to merit repeated listens, even if these productions do sound worrisomely flat at times.

As an EP, Middle States is an interesting paradox, presenting a collection of songs that are simultaneously concise and exploratory, expanding their sound without meandering, and managing to do it all without feeling overly restrained.

This set is a pleasant listen, but the fact remains that the best versions of Holly songs are by Buddy Holly, and no album of covers, no matter how well done or well intentioned, can eclipse them.

While Geronimo! is sometimes a little too playful for its own good, it's still a refreshingly unpretentious and affectionate display of nostalgic retro-pop.

Little Red Boots is for the most part a triumphant means of overcoming trouble by singing about it.

Music for Confluence may lack the usual highs and lows associated with film scores, but it more than compensates for them with its sad, yet lovely strangeness.

A wonderfully imaginative score which deserves some recognition come awards season.

A Brief Crack of Light shows signs that Therapy? are capable of restoring their former glories, but its overall uncompromising attitude suggests they'll continue to remain a cult moshpit-inducing force for now.

It's all pretty smooth, sleek and, for the most part, fairly subdued.

Suckers have turned in a respectable album of big sounds and strong melodies.

Even if A Collection is by the numbers, they are great numbers and rounded out by some intriguing collaborations (with Brian Eno, High Contrast, and such) along with powerful live cuts.

The band's slick blend of classic new wave, tech-savvy dance rock, and mathy indie pop can be jarring upon first listen, but multiple spins reveal an impressively tight unit that understands the thin line between immaculately rendered electro-art pop cacophony and hook-friendly modern rock.

Out of the Black works either on the dancefloor or at the workstation, offering beat nuts from the Front 242 generation to the Deadmau5 kids their deep, dark, and delicious fix.

Those who have been waiting for what seems like an eternity for Timberlake to return to the music scene could do worse than check out Contrast, which although rather front-loaded, is perhaps the most confident and mature teen pop debut of recent years.

Drawn-in listeners are sure to be rewarded with increased payoffs after multiple listens, but even they may long for the simpler days of "Radar Detector."

Tears on Tape proves that H.I.M. moves forward and back but remains mostly in one place.

While Live with the Britten Sinfonia may be too formal to provide the wild, free-ranging ride that one might expect from this adventurous lot, it is dazzling in its own right and in almost all the right ways.

Think of it as a conceptual street release made for Styles and/or Scram fans and Float succeeds splendidly.

Between the Day-Glo commercial sounds, the glassy house and disco tracks, and Melidis' penchant for completely disjointed found sounds, Years Not Living becomes a subtle but distinct collage, and a catalog of grooves in a constant state of pleasant disruption by his collection of otherworldly noises and samples.

Sure it's mature, soulful, and often beautiful, but it's also mostly forgettable.

At times, this album is nearly exquisite, at all others, it is beautiful.

When it works, it feels lived-in, loved, and just occasionally lurid enough to satisfy the fans who hold "Golden Streams" as the litmus test by which all Hidden Cameras songs must be judged, but tracks like the slight, early Depeche Mode-throwback "Carpe Jugular," and the seemingly endless, dub-kissed "Afterparty" feel like they were tossed in to make what would have been a solid EP into a filler-laden long-player.

Though truly hypnotic and rich with fuzzy textures, Maui Tears keeps its spacy tendencies from fading into incoherent jamming with both intriguing songwriting and pinpoint production choices.

Twin Forks seems like a worthy vehicle for Carrabba's songs, but too much of this album panders to worn-out themes and clichés.

Darlings comes across as a more focused and decidedly more solo effort than its predecessor.

There's a bit more maturity and personality to some of these tracks that speaks of a band coming into its own. Still, for fans of their first two releases, Weird Kids provides plenty of the snarky sendoffs and he-said/she-said breakup rockers that drew people to the band in the first place.