If it's more of an archival release than a necessary one, it's very listenable and catches an eccentric, odd little band of three fine songwriters doing that thing they did--and that they still do.

The Bloom and the Blight sounds massive enough that Two Gallants could conceivably follow fellow power duo the Black Keys into the big time, but emotionally, this music is as intimate as ever, and all the more powerful for it.

All the pieces here slot together beautifully, and using more voices creates more complex layers of vocals that only add to the pieces.

This is collaboration in its purest and and most elegant form.

Breakup Song is fresh and addictive enough to make listeners fall in love all over again.

I Know What Love Isn't is Lekman at his finest, transmitting real emotion and humor in songs that are impossible to stop humming for days.

There's a higher percent of anxiety and queasiness mixed in amid the moments of pop bliss, and though fans of the glassy perfection of MPP may be initially disappointed, Centipede Hz sounds like another logical step in the band's evolution.

Sun lives up to its name, but its album cover is more revealing: like the rainbow crossing Marshall's face, these songs are the meeting point between a stormy past and optimism for the future.

Matchbox 20 has never made a record as cheerful or appealing or satisfying as this.

What is easy to figure out is that they are still operating at top capacity and anyone looking for smart, emotional pop that sounds almost perfect can turn to Stars for all their needs.

This is a king rightfully reclaiming his dominion.

Antibalas is a welcome return; its slight shift in direction and production nuances reveal just how sophisticated this ensemble is, expanding the Afro-beat sound in the 21st century without sacrificing its heart.

Mature Themes just reveals more levels with more listening.

Into the Diamond Sun shows the trio has its own ear for how to combine and recombine those elements [moody psychedelic jamming, entrancing female vocals and slow-burn tunefulness], not least thanks to a balance of sprightly clarity and sudden shifting in the arrangements that feels more like a hip-hop mix transposed onto past approaches than just a jam.

It's this kind of mellow eclecticism that has helped Greenwood to develop such a devoted following, and it's his music's sticky, molasses-like sweetness that keeps those fans coming back for more and more.

While Yellowcard's songs still retain the youthful, emo-rock enthusiasm and catchy melodicism that marked the best of their earlier work, there is a weightiness and expansive gaze to many of the songs on Southern Air.

There is a purity to their sound and vision that gives the album its power.

Nothing Bad Will Ever Happen has flashes of brilliance and moments where they're still figuring out what to do, but overall, it shows them growing into something new as gracefully as they can.

This is much more of an abstract, "experimental" affair than a pop one, as friendly and approachable as it is--only a fraction of the selections could properly be described as songs, and even those tend to spiral off down unexpected textural avenues.

Matthew E. White's Hometapes' debut, Big Inner, is as frustrating as it is cosmically transcendent.

2 Chainz over-promises and almost delivers on his official debut, putting him right in the punch-line rapper's sweet spot.

Nude Beach aren't starting a revolution with II, but its well-crafted songs and raw-edged execution are just too damn joy-inspiring to deny.

It's a return to form and just what fans of Cliff's early work could ask for, but it's vital too, putting it on the man's top shelf, somewhere in the vicinity of The Harder They Come soundtrack and Wonderful World, Beautiful People.

For the most part, The Soul Sessions, Vol. 2 does feel right: it has the form and sound of classic soul while never acknowledging that R&B continued to develop past, say, 1972. For an audience that agrees with that thesis, this is fun.

For those willing to rise to the challenge, Fragrant World has a wealth of obscured moments of bizarre genius.

This collection ultimately serves as a chronology of an incredibly important band as it phases through the good, bad, and ugly of an unprecedented run of magical songs in every era.

While it sounds less like a single-minded effort from Chasney than it does a high-spirited collective freakout from a reconfigured Comets on Fire, Chasney is still at the core of all the songs, transmitting his freaky visions in the guise of one face-melting power jam after another.

The mood is thick and cloaking, and the album represents a continuing development toward the best and most captivating material of Caminiti's expansive body of work.