Though the songs here aren't quite as immediately infectious as Clean, its combination of deceptively warm surfaces, alluring melodies, and subtly distorted textures reward repeat listens with that sense of discovery.

These kids know exactly what they want to do and they have the skills and imagination to make it work like an improbable magic trick. Which is what a band needs to beat the sophomore slump as decisively as they do here.

At a time when deep Southern soul isn't doing a whole lot better than the blues in the marketplace, Robert Cray is an effective cheerleader for both forms, and That's What I Heard shows that after 40 years of record-making, he's in no way tired or short on ideas and inspiration.

Real Estate grow up gracefully on The Main Thing while keeping a tight hold on the low-key charm and talent that made them stand out.

The album continues developing the language that Caribou has been working on for years, branching out from the clubby spirit and melancholic reflection of recent albums for more lighthearted sonic atmospheres.

As a whole, Printer's Devil is both stronger and sweeter than their prior sets, likely resulting in a more lasting impression for casual listeners and a surefire hit for established fans.

All told, Forward Motion Godyssey isn't quite as much fun as Post Animal's debut, but they still deliver that characteristic warmth as well as uncommonly sharp hooks, fills, and theatrics of a nature that should delight air guitarists and drummers everywhere.

Sometimes intricate, but more of an album-length mood that a collection of memorable songs, it's strangely well-suited for attentive headphone listening and for unwinding.

Horns and lush backing vocals do appear here and there, as does a slightly misguided dip into a borderline cartoonish vocal baritone on the otherwise strong "Ol' Man River," but the best parts of American Standard occur in the intimate moments that constitute Taylor's wheelhouse and of which there are more than enough to satisfy.

A Situation, the group's third album, sounds similar to the first two, except this time there's a greater presence of lyrics, and the songs sound more urgent.

Taken together, Thumb World is the type of album that should make for an entertaining, weekend-afternoon diversion with a timely world view. Recommended for playlisting: "Bad Algebra."

With Wild Wild East, Jain has crafted a masterful, robust celebration of America's immigrant cowboy soul.

Landreth and Field bring out the best in one another. They are symbiotic in their restless energies and experimental visions, and have consistently delivered excellence together; Blacktop Run is no exception.

Ferry had impossibly combined the hazy sheen of golden-era Hollywood glamour with a wry singer/songwriter sincerity and a wallop of good-time rock & roll. He brought all of this jazzy charisma to bear on this live concert date, offering a cross section of songs from these two solo productions.

While Surrender Your Poppy Field is less immediately approachable than the other albums from this period in the Guided by Voices saga, it's experimental, not meandering, and for fans with a taste for their more esoteric side, this will hit the spot and then some.

Random Desire doesn't necessarily sound like the Afghan Whigs in their glory days, but it does a much better job of summoning the emotional energy and musical tension that made Congregation and Gentlemen classics, and it's the best music he's made since the end of the Whigs' first era.

Even if it's not always as vivid as some of her earlier albums, Miss Anthropocene is often fascinating and defies expectations in ways that still fit her always thought-provoking aesthetic.

Spinning Coin work hard to expand their sound in interesting ways, and the end result of their efforts is an album that's challenging, bracing, and almost defiantly, certainly thrillingly, unique.

Marshall duly stuffs his concise follow-up to The Ooz with the terror and negative liquid references, both literal and metaphorical, for which he is known.

Maybe broken into a series of singles or a couple of EPs it would have been more palatable, but in this form it's just too samey and underwhelming to make much of an impression

The Family Songbook sounds pleasingly simple on the surface, though closer inspection confirms this is an album of tremendous craft that achieves its effects in a way that camouflages the effort that went into its creation, allowing us to simply appreciate the beauty.

Suite for Max Brown may be a direct sequel to its predecessor, but it's nonetheless creative and thoughtful. It's also very accessible. Experimental music never sounded this welcoming.

Nothing is lost in the process and tracks like "Bora Lá" with singer Rogê and Leporace, "Samba in Heaven" with Joans, and "This Is It (É Isso)" with Pascoal and Leporace, retain all the funky, soulful rhythms and hooky melodies that made Mendes' seminal albums so captivating.

Ultimately, four albums in, Spook the Herd proves Lanterns on the Lake to be one of the most consistent acts in the business.

With each album, they continue on the path of self-discovery and maturity, pulling off yet another effortless display of pop prowess without forgetting the fans that have helped them along the way.

Frequently immersive and occasionally revelatory, Companion Rises feels utterly modernistic in its uneasy blend of earthy stability and distractive ambience, mirroring what for many is the normal mode of 21st century existence.

71 years old at the time Ordinary Man was released, Osbourne's voice in in great shape, sounding more or less like he always has. How he's making music this strong after riding the crazy train for more than half-a-century is anyone's guess, but the better songs here rank among his best.

The more subdued affect of Aloha makes it a less immediately satisfying listen than New Magic, but that does nothing to change that this is a rewarding effort from an exciting and engaging talent.