What could have been a throwaway side project has instead turned out to be a quietly charming and affectionate labor of love that hopefully won't be the last collaboration between the two.

Buried beneath the relentless, grinding beats and wobbly bass tremors, Welcome Reality is home to a potentially great but unfinished sci-fi blockbuster soundtrack, but unable to sustain its early momentum, it ends up being merely a solid first offering rather than the trail-blazing spectacular that was anticipated.

A wonderfully imaginative score which deserves some recognition come awards season.

Stetson's transcendent and muscular ability to layer sound, breath, and rhythm in a meditative compositional style sticks with you long after Judges is over.

The target audience should think of it as a bag marked "regs" that comes with no organic flavor or transcendent buzz, but is easy to roll and surprisingly dank.

That Back to Love is not a major shake-up is not a bad thing. Most of the songs are instantly ingratiating in some way, with none of the lighter, upbeat numbers the least bit out of character.

It's a curious creature with habits of its own, though the results suggest they shouldn't end this grand experiment just yet.

While its parts don't quite come together in a way that rivals IRM, Stage Whisper is a welcome adjunct that celebrates Gainsbourg's skills in the studio and in front of an audience.

Hazed Dream is the band's subtlest album as well as its most accessible, and its low-key pleasures reveal themselves over time.

Colon certainly sounds more comfortable here than he did on his first two albums.

Ultimately, while Frampton is never allowed to settle into one aesthetic sound on Red--moving from electronic pop to dance-rock to folk-pop--her honey-sweet voice and emotionally compelling delivery are enough to carry you along for the ride.

Mirror Mirror isn't the kind of record that will bowl you over right away, but as you listen, the barely contained drama and violence of the performances, the bloody hooks each song contains, and the inspired craft of the arrangements will draw you in and knock you out.

The new wave funk of "Ungrateful" and the Franz Ferdinand-esque "It's Obvious" shows the bandmembers aren't averse to the odd indie disco anthem, but the album is much more convincing when it embraces the spiky romanticism of the group's obvious influences.

When you want to hear something nice and don't want to be overly engaged or challenged, Within and Without will satisfy your needs in that regard, and only those looking for memorable songs or fresh sounds will feel let down.

There is plenty to like on Cherish, from the unfailingly memorable songs to Eisold's winningly in-your-face vocal mannerisms.

In the increasingly prevalent spirit of similar trans-cultural musical interminglings in recent years, what we get never feels carefully curated, explicated, or tamed but rather refreshingly, bewilderingly alive -- an explosive flurry of rhythms, sounds, and voices.

Lollipop might have been an inspiring return to form; as it is, it's flawed but interesting enough to confirm there's still life left in this band, which (with any luck) the Meat Puppets will document in a more satisfying manner next time they record.

But while it's sometimes a little too understated for its own good, 100 Acres of Sycamore is a never less than a charming and emotive U-turn suggesting that Regan now realizes where his talents lie.

Lupercalia's highly melodic but still resolutely exuberant nature indicates that Wolf's newfound positive outlook on life definitely seems to suit him.

The name Psychedelic Horseshit is more accurate than ever, as they truly sound psychedelic for the first time, surrounded by wild soundbursts and shiny musical squiggles that would probably be called "horseshit" by most mainstream rock fans...In a way, it's perfect. A perfect mess.

While Golden Worry isn't quite as deep as Terrible Two, it's an exciting follow-up, nonetheless.

It may come to define or utterly transcend metal; but it doesn't matter because this album is in its own class. Anyone remotely interested in heavy music needs to encounter Aesthethica at least once.

Let Me Come Home never really develops into the lump in the throat it wants to be, though it certainly isn't for lack of trying.

Parton has never sounded fresher or more spirited, and with "Somebody's Missing You" in particular, she shows she still knows how to write a timeless song.

The singles aren't as obvious as 2008's "Knickerbocker," and the cuteness is replaced by suave aloofness; Ventriloquizzing is seamlessly somber, and all the better for it.

A headlong rush of an album, Pala is accomplished, bold, and very, very danceable; everything Friendly Fires' debut promised and more.

There's a lot going on, but Hotel Shampoo never seems cluttered. It flows easily, so easily that it becomes an album to get lost in.

Performances are generally middling, but a few songs show a glimmer of the band's former jagged glory.