Allison Crutchfield isn't forgetting anything that went wrong on Tourist in This Town, but even if the wounds seem fresh, the theme is learning from what went wrong, and this album is the work of a woman who knows plenty and has the talent and desire to make something worthwhile out of the drama.

[An] inviting album. The sky could be the limit.

Completely dispensing with the conventions of dance music and embracing techniques more in tune with natural human rhythms, Emptyset have created one of their most unique works yet.

Terrifying and violent, Wake in Fright is a perfectly logical response to the state of the world.

Overall a tweaked follow-up that's likely to bring along existing fans, Trials & Truths is like a puffy chair with a window view; it doesn't demand attention but offers thoughtful escape.

If Godfather really is the conclusion of Wiley's recording career, he's ending it on an extremely high note.

This record works as an apt elegy to the band, and despite never again managing to reach the high-water mark Piano Magic achieved with Low Birth Weight, Closure remains a fine final flourish.

Harvey sends off his final Gainsbourg project with the same spirit he introduced it with: savvy, humor, and an illuminating musical and literary spirit that defies anyone to follow him. Ultimately, it's perhaps the only kind of tribute Gainsbourg could--or would--accept.

The duo’s effective use of reverbs and filters works wonders here, transporting the listener through an array of the same kinds of sounds, but they're treated whole-heartedly and differently with each moment.

At the end of the album, Torrini sings that she's being carried through the dark while in a dream, and the listener is likely to feel the same way.

The album ends as it begins, with the smoldering remains of a dying fire, driving home the album's theme of interconnectedness. Another absolutely stellar work from Throwing Snow.

It's a trade-off that many bands make as they progress, cashing in on the uniqueness of their original sound for something more palatable to the imagined masses. It almost never works out well for the band involved and despite a few bright moments where they almost get it right, it doesn't work for Cherry Glazerr here.

She may not have the range of a Roísin Murphy yet, the raw emotion of Robyn's best work, or the glam explosiveness of Goldfrapp, but she's not too far behind, and if she makes more albums like Stellular, it won't be long before she's joining their rarified class.

Chapman is an artist who has never had a problem with upending creative expectations, and if 50 isn't the sort of music many of his longtime fans would expect from him, it's also passionate, literate, and the work of an artist who wants to make the most of his late-era career. Not many artists sound this determined and engaged, especially at the age of 75.

As ever, Basinski is a master at suspending time, and the album seems to flow by faster than the clock indicates. When it does end, you wonder if you've been taken somewhere, or if you've been changed in some way. The only key to answering these questions is to dive back in.

It may have been born out of frustration and strife, but Foxhole's inherent peaceful beauty and restraint make it a perfect companion for moments of reflection.

While it may draw its share of eye rolls, for those who play along, it's a triumph of extravagance and theatricality served with a wink and a chorus line.

There's certainly enough here to prove that post-Nitro AFI are a better and stronger group, unafraid to continue pushing their sound with each release.

Hansen continues to push his group's sound while remaining familiar, and Epoch is one of Tycho's best yet.

He's Got... may alienate even some of Kinsella's more patient and open-eared fans, as it sometimes wanders into a slow ramble over repetitive dissonance. At the same time, its impulsive quality may be irresistible to a punkier sensibility, offering catharsis in its deliberate lack of polish and self-censorship. If it's possible to be refreshing and somewhat tedious at once, this album nails it.

On Hear the Lions Roar, Half Japanese demonstrate that after nearly 40 years of music-making, they're still creating some of the most engaging recordings of their lives, and that's truly something to believe in.

These 11 Short Stories of Pain & Glory are deliberate in their intent--uplifting numbers for swaying shoulder-to-shoulder with friends before emptying out of the bars onto the dark concrete of Lansdowne on a Friday (or Wednesday) night.

Wayne Coyne, Steven Drozd and company soften some of The Terror's rough edges in favor of a more eclectic, melodic sound that spans hip-hop, prog, and orchestral elements, sometimes in the course of a single song.

Sundara Karma have talent, ambition, and youth on their side, but so do a lot of other rising bands. In the end, it's personality and distinction that endure.

Perhaps the biggest surprise of all, though, is that Sohn hasn't pushed his musical boundaries further; perhaps next time he will completely run wild.

With Migration, Green blends the unexpected with the familiar and emerges with some of his most affecting work yet.

Machine Messiah is an ambitious, angry, hungry outing. Sepultura remain vital in their creativity; they expand their palette dramatically while fully integrating the sounds that brought them here.

While disjointed in a way that plays like a perhaps-too-extensive portfolio rather than something intended to be an album, the set reveals a bold and versatile songwriter as well as a performer and engineer.