With one foot in the constantly building atmospherics and experimentation of groups like Explosions in the Sky and the other in the openhearted optimism of the emo scene that they grew out of, Appleseed Cast offer up some of their best work to date on Illumination Ritual.

OK, it may not be not that timeless, but it's still high quality work from a youngster who is off to a fine start in the indie rock game.

If the production had been a little more restrained and the band had written a few songs that didn't sound like they were meant to be played by U2 after a couple days spent listening to Top 40 radio, the album might not have been quite the heavy and ponderous thing it is.

These are languid, gorgeously crafted tracks that find the band delving even deeper than on Shapeshifting into an atmospheric, slow-burn aesthetic that holds up on repeated listens.

It's undeniable that the album takes his gift for channeling dread in subtler, more complex directions and deserves to be listened to under headphones in total darkness.

Reincarnated the album is all heart and heart-in-the-right-place, threatening to mash up the system without ever even harshing the mellow.

Bankrupt! isn't nearly as devoid of new ideas as its title suggests, but it doesn't feel like quite the leap forward Wolfgang was compared to what came before it. Not that it necessarily needs to be.

A fuller, more focused version of the sound they introduced on Fields, this set of songs is worthy of being Junip's namesake album.

Turner's big expressive voice and gift for everyman poetry loom large over the proceedings, but there's a newfound musical effusiveness at play here as well, due in part to some tastefully simple yet sharp production from Rich Costey.

Measured, melancholy, and mysterious, Jones' debut as a singer/songwriter is as subtle as it is striking, skillfully marrying the sedate melancholy of Elliott Smith with the sly, darkly comic lyricism of The National.

Lacking real excitement, verve, or even the stupid type of fun we're used to from him, will.i.am sounds remarkably like his heart isn't in it throughout the record, bored on the job even though it's his job to get the party started.

Spring and Fall is a record for heartaches and healing, another understated gem from a singer/songwriter whose catalog is littered with them.

In their best moments, No Joy not only expand on these ideas, but improve on them.

The results, though often feeling abrupt and sometimes overly academic, are mostly warm and curious, stretching out in eternal open-endedness that isn't really looking for answers or understandable conclusions.

It's an entertaining, vibrant, and artistically filling album, so consider it a "presents" effort and enjoy the show.

Resilience mostly lives up to the promise of its moniker, delivering another well-executed, purely fan-centric collection of testosterone-fueled, post-grunge/processed metal jams with a complete disregard for subtlety.

This grandiose set of songs cobbled together from decaying sound scraps has all the ominous mystery and majesty of a silent twilight, and all the implied struggle of the abandoned structures where and from which it was created.

Whatever Ghost's intentions, they've definitely managed to carve out a niche within the increasingly fragmented world of heavy metal, and while purists may revile them for their insolence, it's their insubordination that ultimately earns them a place in the genre.

The style of music ranges from heady precision punk to rustic acoustic folk, but because the artists on board share in the same optimistic indie spirit, the compilation plays cohesively from start to finish.

Top of the Pops is a thorough and lovingly compiled set, and it's only fitting that a band as incredibly geeky about music and pop culture as Art Brut is should get the deluxe treatment.

In the end, it's still just a live album, but this sideline release is a must for fans, recommended for the casual techno head, and worth checking if a pumping, hypnotic, and otherworldly journey sounds attractive.

It is yet another in a string of excellent releases by her, but it's also something more. It integrates everywhere Richey's been yet inhabits a terrain completely of her own design.

That quarter-century span should be a tip-off that this is not a lean, coherent, purposeful album, but rather a collection of every listenable thing Otis completed over the course of 25 years, and in that sense, it's pretty good.

It might not be as cohesive as their best albums, but the standout songs rival their finest moments.

It's short and limited, but it's well crafted and strong, and a worthy alternative to RZA's Man with the Iron Fists soundtrack done with some wild, Wallabee Kingpin spin.

At times, Letherette gives the impression of being on the fringes of a big party, moving in and out of the action as the mood strikes--and it's this mood, sophisticated but not overly mannered, that makes the album so listenable.

Floating Coffin will stand as a successful foray into the world of straight-ahead, heavy-rocking, non-weird alternative indie rock.

Ultimately on Birthmarks, Born Ruffians let go of some of their punk rock ramble and hit the pop song sweet spot.