This Is Christmas is a joyous and affectionate affair that already feels like an instant festive classic.

Each track has its own kind of hushed and easy-flowing grace to it.

Bootlegs may not be essential Sondre Lerche, but it's a thrilling document of his live set and a reminder that he's not just a brilliant songwriter, but a rocker too.

The skittering, tightly wound sound the band achieves here bears echoes of Vampire Weekend's arch global groove, Peter Bjorn and John's perky indie pop, and the complex art pop textures of Field Music, without ever feeling derivative of any of the aforementioned artists.

Candela works well as an entry point into Pierce's earlier music as well as a summation of how artfully he blends electronic, indie, and global influences.

While other acts work diligently to re-create the sounds on All Hell Breaks Loose, the Black Star Riders offer them naturally with creativity, heft, and inspiration.

The slightly wider vocal range and additional expressiveness don't hurt his cause. For those who aren't as easily drawn into Tesfaye's world, this will seem roughly as insufferable and as bleakly aimless as the earlier material.

Neither as intricate nor as emotionally varied as releases from inspirations and contemporaries like Gold Panda, Quarters is short on obvious standouts and distinctive qualities, but it is steady, conducive to beginning-to-end listening.

There's nothing here that screams big hit–-but it's something better: the work of a diva who is comfortable in her own skin.

Approach this release as album number two and it comes off as a celebration based on past success, so use Up & Away as an intro, then join Ink and all the inspired party people he invited to My Own Lane.

There's a take-it-or-leave-it quality to Await Barbarians' open-ended, unvarnished songs, but more often than not, Taylor draws his audience into the album's world in a way that feels like a visit with an old friend.

Yesterdays is a heartfelt memorial to a fallen comrade as well as a reminder that Pennywise remember their roots well, and haven't lost sight of the ideas and ideals that drove them.

Yes, the production on Homo Erraticus is too precise--there's too much air, there's too much room to roam, decisions that diminish the impact of the music --but the contours of the compositions deliberately and delicately recallclassic Tull, so Homo Erraticus winds up satisfying: it's as close to '70s prog as is possible in 2014.

A record as relaxed as the average James Taylor album but one that's also riskier and richer, the right album for him to make at this date.

It is ultimately successful in how it deals with negativity and frustration, and shows KEN mode displaying grace and maturity with their newly expanded sound.

Over seven tracks, the enduring Gainesville quintet remains reliable, delivering trademark "whoa-oh"s and horn blasts that surge with an undeniably positive vibe.

Castles exists in a bit of a netherworld--it's commercial yet idiosyncratic, classic in its structure yet contemporary in its sound-but that's also it's a quietly compelling record, revealing an artist who is starting to hit her stride.

A diverting if inconsequential EP filled with a lot of flippant humor and a little serious reflection.

Although there's nothing groundbreaking on this album, Young Romance is warm and pleasant from start to finish, ideal for sun-kissed afternoons and carefree nights.

Headroom's biggest strengths lie in its juxtaposition of relaxing grooves and unpredictable textures rather than in its core songwriting, but it delivers just enough of all the above to make for both compelling headphone listening or urban-afternoon ambiance.

Mess is part of the appeal of Crazy Horse, whether they're heard with Young or on their own, so it feels right that All Roads Lead Home occasionally feels as if the sum is less than the individual parts; these are old friends not so much joining forces as they are grooving on the same wavelength.

Although inessential in the context of Olsen's output, Cosmic Waves is a great idea well-executed, with the covers lending a needed gravitas and collectability to what would otherwise be a playlist project.

Hard Candy is as a rare thing: a lifeless Madonna album.

By the time Rockstar reaches "Free Bird," the party has been rolling on for two hours and is starting to feel a little tired -- it doesn't help that Parton is duetting with the ghost of Ronnie Van Zant, either -- but that doesn't erase the good spirits created by the rest of the record.

Natasha Bedingfield is a genuine pop talent who often flashes hints of a greater than average ambition that could turn her into something more substantial than the likes of Rhianna, but the awkwardly assembled Pocketful of Sunshine feels inorganic in a way that Unwritten did not, less personal and more vetted by various A&R executives.

Examining classical elements is a novel concept, but spreading that concept throughout four EPs, two double-disc sets, and two record releases does little more than dilute an otherwise strong set of songs.

Wanderlust is at its best when it's slightly dexterous (as on the girl group homage "Runaway Daydreamer") and it can get bogged down in pretension (as on the ceaseless pomp of "Love Is a Camera"), but it's always exquisitely sculpted and better for its attention to detail.

Everything about this album shouts masterpiece, a set that will thrill listeners for years, nay decades, to come.