Ultimate Painting may not reach the commercial heights of either guy's main band, but it is fully the equal and in some ways more interesting.

Nobody Wants to Be Here and Nobody Wants to Leave's naked emotions and sophisticated music mark a new high point for the Twilight Sad.

It's an album less for blasting out of car radios and more for dusty Sunday afternoons and at times, it can feel a bit dulled by its own weight. Still, it's nice to hear the band stretching out and evolving, and even if Keep You requires a little more patience there is still much to like about it.

Although die-hard Beatles fans might see the album as a bit blasphemous, the Flaming Lips' treatment of the classic work makes it clear the band have a great respect for the Fab Four's legacy and influence, making the album a wonderful distraction that provides fans with a window into the influences of one of rock's most enduring and joyously weird bands.

Tell 'Em I'm Gone confirms that Yusuf still has the talent and passion that made him a star as Cat Stevens, but the efforts to find a new sound for him don't quite work, and Rubin doesn't quite catch the light but emphatic touch of Yusuf's salad days; maybe a full reunion with Paul Samwell-Smith would be worthwhile for Yusuf's next album.

Undoubtedly, she has the charisma and chops to be convincing on both bubblegum and ballads but 1989 is something else entirely: a cold, somewhat distant celebration of all the transient transparencies of modern pop, undercut by its own desperate desire to be nothing but a sparkling soundtrack to an aspirational lifestyle.

While having their most celebrated drummer on hand adds an element of stability to what is a pretty far-out concept even for Primus, the addition of Bass and Dillon allows Primus to really push their sound to its creative limits, making Primus & the Chocolate Factory one of the band's oddest, yet most strangely compelling, releases to date.

While the album's roots are deeply embedded in the past, the band has never sounded more present tense.

His father's son through and through, Baxter Dury not only sounds a bit like his old man Ian, he is attracted to a similarly chintzy production that pushes attention away from the arrangements and to his words. This is especially true on 2014's It's a Pleasure.

While Sound of a Woman is slightly too long and unfocused, at its best it's a potent reminder of how much fun this sound was--and is.

Lennox has crafted an album that brings to mind the sophisticated, contemporary sound of her original studio releases while allowing her to revel in the grand popular song tradition.

A state-of-the art country-pop record, a modern update of urban cowboy that works because it never hides its soft aspirations but never makes a fuss about them either.

The energy she put into these versions helps make up for the vocal shortcomings and audible use of Auto-Tune.

What makes a difference here is the general lightness of his new songs and Was and Lee's sympathetic production; the two play off each other perfectly, turning this into the first latter-day Diamond record to feel quintessentially Neil Diamond.

Some of the styles are undeniably tacky but, hey, bad taste is part of Idol's legacy and Kings & Queens of the Underground touches upon that garishness along with his exaggerated swagger, fondness for hooks, and an irascible snarl, and that makes it an autobiography even if it never tells a story.

As defined here, Soused accurately means "drenched" in sound. Walker's and Sunn 0)))'s individual identities, while always on full display, are brought jaggedly and thunderously together in an enthralling recording that equals the sum of its mighty parts.

Listening to the album, it's clear that even though Slipknot aren't over the loss of a dear friend and colleague, they're able to channel their grief into a productive album, allowing them to continue moving forward while paying tribute to a fallen comrade with one of the strongest albums of their career.

Phantom Radio shows that a bit more production polish and digital styling hasn't fogged Lanegan's message, and Phantom Radio reveals the singer and his songs are as strong and as eloquent as ever.

Howard expects you to meet him on his own terms and provides just enough aural enticement to give him not just one listen but a second, which is when I Forget Where We Were really begins to sink in its hooks.

Ware continues to express a multitude of emotions with superb elegance. The material, unfortunately, is on a lower plane.

Bright, big, and Pharrellian, Paperwork still finds T.I. at the center of its well-funded variety show, allowing him to bounce back to his streety Trouble Man persona after schooling all the Iggy's and Macklemore's in such vital uptown slick.

While the newer additions to Thurston's muse are all well and good, The Best Day is most exciting when he returns to his most familiar trademarks, again investigating a sound that has spawned generations of imitators but still sounds like no one else.

The album effectively sets a mood but tends to lack the richness and labyrinthine quality of the previous album. It's too direct, skeletal, and mechanical to function as more than background listening.

Even if it's not her most intimate work, Taiga allows Nika to be inventive and craft some some stunningly beautiful moments along the way.

Quite possibly We Were Promised Jetpacks' most vivid album to date, Unravelling finds the band making music that's harder to place than ever--and that much more interesting for it.

There's only one track with any forward motion, and it's the overly slick and one-dimensional "I'll Be Back." Otherwise, Otherness is mostly murky and overcooked ballads, without hooks or much emotional impact.

Rips mixes simple pleasures and complicated ones into a completely life-affirming debut.

As a songwriter, Ubovich still seems to be getting his sea legs; many of these tracks seem to be more about jamming than delivering melodies that will stay with you after the record comes to a close.