Casual listeners may find this to merely be a pleasant and inviting ambient work, but a lot of love went into these nine pieces and repeated spins will reveal great depth and many layers to get lost in.

The producer likewise incorporates vocals, either mostly or completely sampled, that tend to evoke senses of longing, losing grasp, and persevering.

This vibrant jumble of audio adrenaline with flecks of deep thought is, at the very least, an intriguing stab at taking stadium EDM experience somewhere bigger, and better for the soul.

The album won't take the place of anyone's day job, but it is a nice diversion for all involved.

Still in the salad days, these songs are the sound of the band hitting the ground running. They hold up to any of Fugazi's more realized recordings, sounding fresh and--more importantly--urgent even 26 years later.

The Buzzcocks haven't lost their touch as a live act in the 21st century, but The Way makes it clear these guys need to recharge their creative batteries before they attempt another studio album.

If it doesn't always feel like the dream collaboration between these gifted relations, Family clearly demonstrates what makes them special, individually and collectively.

The main successes of Final Days come with its more complex arrangements as well as more nuanced and exacting performances.

Naturally, what is first alluring about Avonmore is its feel--it's meant to be seductive--but the songs are what makes this record something more than a fling.

Luckily on Four the scales are tipped heavily in favor of the kind of songs they do best, with the majority of them sounding like good-time hits that will go a long way toward warming up a cold November night.

Despite a radical switch from digital to analog gear, the album is as bleak and as bracing as Luxury Problems.

The upbeat "Motors Runnin" is a standout, addressing the endless and unpredictable ride of being alive while summing up the restless wonder, excitement, and confusion that lie at the core of the album and find a different voicing from song to song.

This is a modern classical work that, while haunting and beautiful, bears the enduring weight of witness to the madness of a war that was to end all wars yet, as catastrophic and senseless as this shared massacre was, the long shadow of its historical implications remain.

The group really did a fine job of crafting something low-key and gloomy here.

Fortunately, as a collection of forgotten odds and ends, Release doesn't have to fall into line with the rest of their discography, though the fact that even their forgotten 4-track tapes and VHS masters work better as an album than some band's first choice material is a testament to Cave's songwriting prowess and stellar musicianship.

In a catalog that contains over 20 studio albums, Allergic to Water is exemplary for its craft.

It's hard to deny the ups and downs to be found here, but combined they paint a picture of Harrison's complexities and contradictions, and the music has never sounded better--and each album has never looked better--than it does here.

The self-imposed parameters of minimalism, lurching tempos, and anguished, muttering vocals are all well-designed attempts at deeper emotional connection, demanding commitment and close inspection to even begin to crack the veneer of these songs to see the devastating beauty within.

They're an absolute must for anyone enamored with the kiwi pop sound and serve to show a different, less produced and more immediate side of the band's wistful, rolling songwriting style and dynamic, moody playing.

In its own way, this album might be Lee and Björklund's most balanced and unified work yet; it's certainly a confident journey into uncharted waters for the duo.

Throughout the record, the band's playing is excellent, making the eclecticism of Page and Robert Plant's songwriting sound coherent and natural.... This Houses Of The Holy supplement ultimately confirms that Page and Zeppelin made the right choices the first time around.

Expanding on the breakthroughs of III, Zeppelin fuse their majestic hard rock with a mystical, rural English folk that gives the record an epic scope.... A song or two feels slightly different--"Misty Mountain Hop" jumps a bit as it seems to groove a little bit stronger--but by and large this [supplemental] disc shows that as a producer, Page not only knew where he wanted to go but he knew how to get it right the first time.

Coming in at 24 minutes and with seven cuts on the track list, this is EP-sized and not long enough for the full artist picture, but that said, there's no filler, either.

In short, without seeing Atlas's film, Turning is simply a live recording of Antony and the Johnsons on-stage in London, but thankfully, given their talent and their commitment to their craft, that's more than enough to make this a remarkable experience.

Not only does Wyatt sound even more comfortable with the album format, his uncanny valley of past and present, feeling and observing, is blurrier--and more impressive--than ever.

Nick Jonas is at its best when Jonas plays it straight, when he relies on his eternal Prince and Stevie Wonder fixations, which give him not only a fairly rich palette to draw from but provide him with a good direction to channel his melodic skills.

Burnett and the New Basement Tapes remain faithful to the spirit of The Basement Tapes yet take enough liberties to achieve their own identity, which is a difficult trick to achieve.

The energy and spark that Ought base their sound on carries much in common with the best of their influences, finding new ways to sound fresh and exciting even in this short sampling.