Unapologetically sullen and raw, Girls Like Us is a strong debut from a band with a lot to offer.

Though it blisters with intensity, it boasts well-written songs illustrated by canny production, played with confident recklessness and vulnerable honesty.

Track for track, Swamps just might be Widowspeak's most consistent work yet.

Throughout the epic set (which seems to have been played to less than 50 people from the minimal amount of cheering and banter between songs), Phillipps and the umpteenth update to his backing band maintain an air of autumnal detachment and sinister cool, true to their best moments even though the performance happened so deep into their career.

Tall Tall Shadow is easily the songwriter's most fully realized effort; it should expand her audience reach considerably--even if it leaves some of her more purist followers by the wayside.

Guthrie truly believed that songs should be of social service, and when the country asked for his songs, he brought them, as any patriot would. That dozens of these songs are enduring, beautiful, and wise makes Guthrie even more than that. It makes him an American treasure.

While the creative process might be something that's constantly changing for Lott and Son Lux, the one thing that's remained consistent is the level of quality, making Lanterns an album that easily lives up to, and even exceeds, any expectations fans would have for the project.

While Nielson would be well-served by sticking with the colorful mess of sound the band seemingly effortlessly creates, he could go the melancholy troubadour route and make that work too. Blue Record is certainly proof of that.

The Devil Makes Three's most consistent and balanced album yet.

While it's true that it possesses fewer standout performances, it's wholly consistent, and on some level, it's braver for relying on original material to carry it. It requires more listening to appreciate fully. Taken as a whole, however, it serves and fulfills the role of a sequel: the album deepens the band's music-making aesthetic, and further establishes their sound not only as a signature, but even, perhaps, as its own genre.

Get There is as pleasurable as anything Hatfield or Nada Surf have offered listeners in recent years.

Man & Myth is Harper at his best, fully in command of his vision, his curious, lovely melodic sensibility, and, of course, his poetry.

The most shocking thing about the album is how consistently good it is.

An album that's not only satisfying, but one of the band's strongest works to date.

Its flame flickers at best, and the feeling of deja vu that pervades the album means that Los Campesinos! need to change something before they hit the studio again, or the next record will be an even more faded copy of their glorious early days.

A classically trained ivory tickler, Krug's compositional style is as esoteric as his prose, lending an unpredictable musicality to the proceedings that allows the listener to forget that they’re essentially listening in on a very intimate solo performance.

Wed 21 progresses from her previous recordings, but it's an extension of them, not a departure.

Reflektor is as fascinating as it is frustrating, an oddly compelling miasma of big pop moments and empty sonic vistas that offers up a (full-size) snapshot of a band at its commerical peak, trying to establish eye contact from atop a mountain.

Regardless of the musical ingredients that went into this album, Corsicana Lemonade is their most down-home batch of sweet southern brew yet.

Even though The Paradigm Shift might not be the album that listeners might expect after a reunion with Head, it shows the kind of creativity and inventiveness that, love them or hate them, helped to make them an influential force in heavy music.

These songs are fun, energetic, and full of backcountry outlaw attitude.

There are things that don't work here: there are stilted, wooden arrangements that mar "I'm Am Not Waiting Anymore" with Sam Amidon, and Vernon's duet with Carter on Bob Dylan's "Every Grain of Sand." Otherwise, I'll Find a Way is a fine, if uncharacteristically restrained, Blind Boys of Alabama recording.

Guilt Trips is a soft, serene, and inspired debut.

Though Funk's main gig with the Decemberists might seem to be about as far from Red Fang as you're likely to get, the producer's penchant for intricacy helps to lend the album a certain depth, channeling the band's inclination toward brute force into something altogether more expansive while still keeping the grittiness of their sound intact.

There is no doubt that Scattergood is deeply connected to the journey that she voyages through on Arrows, and it's clear that only a small future refinement would result in more songs like the shimmering electro-pop of "Subsequently Lost."

Thanks to the introspective nature of the songs and the mannered production, they took something totally alive and wild, and wonderfully fun and exciting, and not so magically turned themselves into just another dime-a-dozen indie rock band.

A gorgeous showcase that brings together everything you've ever loved about Wareham's music, Emancipated Hearts isn't just a mini-album, it's a minor masterpiece.

Khaled does his usual cheerleading and gets some production credits himself, but the real trick he pulls off is inspiring all these artists to somehow save up all these high-grade club tracks and singles for the DJ's annual dispatch. Suffering from Success, once again.