A Mudhoney album through and through: no outright surprises sonically, but beneath the roar it's hard not to admire how their perennial piss-takes are subtly deepening and how their saturated superfuzz always sounds so good.

The album succeeds more often than it flounders, and even then, the singin' and pickin' is so good that it's hard not to submit, but one wishes that the pair had decided to infuse the collection with a bit more of their signature wit, as much of The Ash & Clay feels a bit like a serious Flight of the Conchords.

An A.merican D.ream comes off like an updated version of the walking blues: heavy looks at heavy times, made all the heavier when the narrator is positioned somewhere between genius and mental breakdown.

Everything on these two discs fits into the theme and flow.

As much as Mogwai are known for defining post-rock's sound, they're just as good at defying expectations, which Les Revenants does with an intimate, low-key brilliance.

A beautiful, if at times exhausting album, The Golden Age shows Lemoine is skilled at making music as well as music videos.

The Impossible Truth is more accessible than Behold the Spirit, but it is easily as adventurous, taking hold of places, spaces, and sounds, reimagining them and altering them just enough to make the entire recording sound at once immediately familiar and somehow wholly other.

Everything comes together perfectly on Lady, from beginning to end it's a dream come true for lovers of classic soul; if it had been released in 1970, it would considered a timeless classic, talked about in the kind of reverent tones reserved for Lady Soul or What's Going On.

Produced by James Dring (Gorillaz) and Youth (the Verve), its ten tracks prove McClure's way with words is far less clunky when focusing on satirical tales of everyday life than trying to put the world to rights.

A confident, delightfully quirky, and endlessly inventive band having fun and delivering a kind of lightly experimental sunshine pop for the 21st century, complete with huge choruses, xylophones and trinkets, maverick rhythms, and a charming, fun spirit of adventure.

The concept of fusing together live analog instrumentation like electric guitar and bass with electronic drums and vintage synthesizer arpeggios keeps the music of Mwahaha enthralling, despite the lack of traditional, tuneful structure.

Listeners willing to pull out a shovel and dig through the layers are bound to find something new each time they listen, but for most newbies, a simpler album would be a better starting point.

Green may not be a sonic wizard, and her songs may cover familiar topics in a familiar way, but she fills the album with songs you'll be humming to yourself all day long, adding to mixes, and sharing with friends who are into weird pop-punk, and that's what's most important in the end.

That Shelton can pull off this big, swinging bravado isn't much of a surprise--when his voice trills electronically on "Small Town Big Time" he makes it sound like a joke--but there's just a little bit too much of the schtick; individually the cuts work fine but they overwhelm not only the gentler moments ("Sure Be Cool If You Did," "Do You Remember") but cancel each other out over the long run.

American Twilight is more than just a triumphant comeback by C&CS--who were not fully appreciated for their uniqueness the first time around--it is a literate, sprawling, bruising rock & roll record that convincingly addresses the crises we face--cultural, spiritual, integral--and the choices we make.

Tedder reveals a broad palette of stylistic inspiration.

It's a rare occurrence to have something so academic and clearly considered come off as playful and laid-back as these songs do, but the layers of instruments never outshine the glowing optimism and simple joy of Lynch's songwriting.

An exciting debut, Sleeper is a rawer, deeper album than might have been expected, full of music that's more daring and more rewarding than the work of many artists without the baggage attached to Villain's background.

A skillful balance of harshness and beauty, Discipline + Desire is a welcome reintroduction to a band that is among the best at keeping this sound not just alive, but vital.

This is an indulgent jumble of a sideline release, but that doesn't mean Wayne isn't in fine form.

Some moments it's hard to ignore how much he sounds like his father, and at times, the genuflection at the altar of Elliott Smith gets a little too doe-eyed and derivative, but the strengths of Simon's songwriting and the atmospheric production keep these concerns in the background of a colorful and evocative bigger picture.

[The cover of Rod McKuen's "Love's Been Good to Me" is] a weak ending to an otherwise wonderful album that shows that Collins is truly back in command of his art.

Maybe lovers of '90s revival bands will find something to like here, but anyone who was into the records Wavves made before is out of luck.

Halfway through, Girl Who Got Away sucks you into its sway, its comforts as alluring as they are elusive.

Change Becomes Us is more than just a rehash or compare-and-contrast exercise; these songs sound great in their own right.

Delta Machine, the band's 13th album, feeds off this negative energy and winds like a snake the whole time, slithering through a well-written (ten songs from Martin Gore with three coming from Gahan) and lusciously recorded set of serpentine siren songs.

The Strokes' most mature music yet, Comedown Machine is a solidly enjoyable album, even if it lacks some of the band's previous spark.

Throughout the album's nine songs, there's a nebulous sense of despair, but it's less an anguished confusion and more of the melancholy of acceptance that comes with a life full of heavy changes.