Though the sonic palette may be tweaked a little, the band's sense of disdain and frustration toward the little things is still gloriously intact.

Adding the pluses and minuses, it's clear that Waiting for Something to Happen isn't a failure by any stretch, but it is something of a disappointment.

Germano's gift for conjuring otherworldly melodies is as strong as ever. That said, she's still, and will always be, a niche artist.

No Beginning No End is James' most holistic and expansive recording.

Stripped down but nonetheless gorgeous for it, the album is an inviting combination of heavy themes and unassuming delivery, and easily some of Hayden's most colorful and intriguing songwriting.

The songwriting is the driving force behind the album, and any reservations about whether or not Frightened Rabbit would transform into radio-friendly M.O.R. are swept away.

As an entryway into the burgeoning psych scene that's been developing in Chile, you couldn't ask for a more accessible album than Noctuary, and niggling issues aside, the Holydrug Couple's breezy, slow-motion beach party jams are something that psych fans will definitely want to explore for themselves.

Fourth Corner establishes Whitley as a sophisticated, mature songwriter and a passionate vocalist only beginning to realize her powers.

Lives is a collection of hopeful, almost wonderstruck looks at the human condition, delivered with enough tasteful and catchy hooks to make it one of the best albums in an already lengthy career from this seasoned indie troubadour.

Live in Europe, 1969 makes obvious that on this tour, Davis' creative vision was holistic and completely assured.

Yellen employs a set of pipes that are as deft as a swallow's, allowing the arrangements the space they need to set the tone, and then swooping in to seal the deal.

While all of Groban's albums are immaculately produced affairs, All That Echoes is one of his best.

In somebody else's hands, the introspection of Lovesick Blues could turn solipsistic or sodden, but he strikes precisely the right notes, creating an album that serves as a suitable soundtrack for long, lonely nights.

Highlights include the folky "Sneak Out the Back Door," the jaunty, joyous-sounding, and lovely "Blind Eye" (which sounds just a little bit like vintage Donovan without the hippy-dippy lyrics), and the oddly hopeful (for Sexsmith, anyway) "Life After a Broken Heart," although the whole album feels like a uniform meditation on aging, mortality, and the affirming wish to go forward in spite of what's been.

At times, Conduit feels like a step backward for Funeral for a Friend, but that's because, well, it is. Fortunately, the album is solid enough to prove that every so often a little de-evolution is just what a band needs, and that it's entirely possible to head into the future while looking toward the past.

"Annie I Owe You a Dance" has too many strings, and the poignant, "37405," a narrative about a country singer turned convict, could have been leaner. But these are small complaints on a solid and ambitious recording. On Two Lanes of Freedom, McGraw proves he is indeed the artist that Curb never let him be.

As good as the songs are, the distinguishing characteristic of Electric is its atmosphere, how the music jumps and breathes, how Miller has given Thompson his liveliest album in years and, on just sheer sonic terms, his best in a while, too.

The Man Who Died in His Boat may be a smaller-scale album than either Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill or A I A, but it's no less lovely or moving because of that.

Diehards who have all of Biophilia's singles may not need this, but it's still a fine collection in its own right.

From the opening moments of the trippy, lo-fi intro "From the Sun" all the way to the funky-as-a-Hendrix-ballad closer "Secret Xtians," II takes risks and achieves greatness.

This more open, organic process comes through on the songs, providing E and company with a refreshing amount of creative freedom after the relative confinement of doing a conceptual three-album trilogy.

She's turned in her most mature work and coincidentally some of her most enjoyable.

This classic hard rock production touches every song on IV, and the first half of the record is composed of songs that seem tailored to fit the post-metal sensibilities of the record's sonic texturing.

Lighter and more colorful than North, News from Nowhere begins sleepily and then flits between spacious and cluttered moments, often within one song.

On Afterman: Descension, Coheed and Cambria prove that while they may be more accessible than ever before, it's not for lack of adventure or musical ambition, it's because of them.

Regions of Light and Sound of God is intriguing and quirky; its songs often pose big questions inside informal, loosely developed pop song structures that are instantly accessible yet whose lyrics are often metaphysically elusive.

On Triple Beams' marriage of the Dead Milkmen's irreverence and Wire's brilliant, repetitive simplicity makes the album one that will definitely scratch the itch for any punk fan, and will make a quick fan out of anyone not already on board with Tyvek's grinding punk goodness.

A timely holiday stocking stuffer for the aging mosh pit veteran in your family, but not exactly mandatory listening for everyday metal heads.