They may never make a record as unhinged and beautiful as Hold on Now, Youngster..., but if they keep making records as tough and exciting as Hello Sadness, Los Campesinos! will always be worth keeping up with.

Diehards and newbies alike will revel in its weird, wild well-roundedness.

Freeclouds has a little more up its sleeve than either a clear break from Tanton's past or a simple extension of it.

Miller's big challenge is that he follows in a long line of suburban college rappers who have thrown up whack mixtapes like they were yesterday's punch bowl, but this memorable debut steps right around that mess and suggests that the kids are not just all right, but all the way live.

It's his most downtempo effort, and all that much more soothing and captivating.

The self-titled conclusion serves as a gentle, appropriate valediction.

While Geronimo! is sometimes a little too playful for its own good, it's still a refreshingly unpretentious and affectionate display of nostalgic retro-pop.

Musically and sonically it's well above average, even if there are three generic cuts in the middle that keep it from rising to the next level.

Get Along isn't the first live set offered up to listeners by the sisterly Canadian crooners Tegan and Sara, but when paired with its deluxe edition DVD, it's certainly their most ornate.

While Take Care's charms may be a little more hidden, with a couple exceptions, than Thank Me Later's were, repeated plays reveal a record that is just as strong and more powerful emotionally.

The benefit of a comp is that it's totally possible, even welcome, to downplay dull lapses like Around the Sun--and, when combined with well-chosen highlights from the band's powerful first two acts, adds up to a thorough narrative of R.E.M.'s entire career.

Camp is like the Drake, Cudi, and Kweli camps all offered their best, but it's really just Glover and his overwhelming bundle of talent, taking indie hip-hop to new levels after spending the day working alongside Chevy Chase.

Though it's not bad by a long shot, (especially on "Get a Grip" and the sweetly drifting "Luck Is There to Be Pushed") Bad Penny is mostly just disappointing.

Your Past Comes Back to Haunt You: The Fonotone Years, 1958-1965 is a massive John Fahey document that was a full decade in the making by Dean Blackwood of Revenant, guitarist Glenn Jones, and Lance Ledbetter of Dust-to-Digital.

Even amidst dissonant notes or loopy time signatures, a catchy hook or two usually surfaced.

This is the best solo record by an indie rock guitarist since Carl Broemel's All Birds Say, proof that Ramsey's career has more than enough horsepower on its own.

The end result is a half-hour of good, giddy fun that leaves you with a slightly strange taste in your mouth, and that's probably just right.

In all, it represents a beautiful set of ambience from one of the form's masters.

Perhaps he could stand to have some knockout singles and perhaps he's a little too comfortable giving the people what they want, but Nichols is always reliable, always likable, and this album is definitely all good.

Even if Crazy Clown Time isn't as accessible as some of the collaborations that arrived shortly before the album, Lynch fans will appreciate it as another example of his ability to put his unmistakable stamp on every art form he attempts.

There's no shame in appealing to a more commercial crowd, and if You Me at Six could have continued to pursue the album's more mature mainstream moments instead of trying to prove their rawk credentials, Sinners Never Sleep would probably have turned out to be a more consistent affair.

There's just enough that's worthwhile on this album to hope that Hank3 doesn't fully abandon this concept, but this is a far cry from what he does best, and even serious doom fans are likely to find this is pretty ordinary.

Producers Shawty Redd, Nottz, and A-Traxx all contribute bottom-heavy stunners while West, Diddy, Juicy J, and Young Jeezy add the right amount of outside influence, making this just a tad more "fun" than your usual casket drop from Clipse.

The result is considerably removed from the country-informed folk that dominated (but never completely encapsulated) her earlier work; it's both her subtlest and jazziest effort to date, certainly sonically but also in its songwriting, which tends more than ever toward long, fluid melodic lines and loose, open-ended structures.

Kinsella's tried-and-true delicately delivered cynicism combined with a new approach to instrumentation is refreshing after all these years.

The most notable thing about The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn, Pt. 1 is its unabashed romanticism, and the album more than serves its purpose as a Twilight-branded wedding playlist.

The Dreamer is a fitting--if not perfect--bookend to one of American popular music's most iconic lives.

These songs never hit their mark as a result, aiming for the relaxed pitch of an afternoon siesta and often sounding closer to a snoozefest instead.