Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light, Vol. 1 represents a further shift in Earth's evolution. It is darker -- even sinister -- and undoubtedly heavier than Bees, but it is more seductive with its mantra-like droning repetition and more elegantly detailed in its textural dimension.

The best thing the album does is to showcase Adele's titanic vocal ability, which -- more than a few times on 21 -- is simply spine-tingling.

The overall effect of Ravedeath, 1972 is a balance between sheer sonic wooziness and a focused sense of construction; nothing seems wholly random in each song's development even as the feeling can be increasingly disorienting.

[Jamie xx] accomplishes a difficult task in successfully (re)presenting Scott-Heron's music -- integrity intact -- in the present tense to a fickle yet discerning groove-centric culture without kitsch or excess.

The Gathering is Arbouretum's "bridge too far"; there is no return because this set is a destination, not a development.

If you're a fan who may have been disappointed after the release of 2008's Shudder, this is the album you've been waiting for.

The songs are deliberately loose and minimalist -- intricacy tends to get lost in the booming, resonant halls of a factory -- but the substance that remains is strong, potent stuff.

The resulting record is a shiny, dreamy affair that retains all the hooks and feel of the first album but adds some energy and pop immediacy.

What My Disco might lack in dynamics, they more than make up with atmospherics, showing again and again on Little Joy that sparse arrangements can feel just as spacious as grander recordings.

For 12 Desperate Straight Lines, the songs are still there, only this time some of the looseness of the self-produced sessions comes into play and the end result ends up being a marked improvement.

Allo Darlin' is most reminiscent of these artists' earlier, scrappier efforts, but the sophistication is there, most crucially, in Morris' songs, which strike just the right balance of clever and heartfelt, wittily specific, and broadly relatable.

En Form for Bla feels of its own space and location rather than simply an addendum.

There are no embarrassing moments or dated sounds on House; just really great, slick and breezy pop.

Genre-hopping, Indianapolis-based singer/songwriter Liz Janes' fourth studio album for Asthmatic Kitty plays fast and loose with traditional indie pop themes.

The Year of Magical Drinking is a solid pop album in its own right, with all the economic hooks of a Fountains of Wayne record but none of that band's antiseptic production.

Sometimes this professionalism results in a tad too much slickness, particularly when the duo eases into ballads that surge so strongly no emotion registers, but when the JaneDear girls are flirting with tacky, spangly four-four beats and hook-heavy crossovers, they wind up with appealingly glitzy, crisp country-pop.

Doin' It Again is unlikely to cross over in the same way as its several collaborators have done, but hardcore grime fans should be satisfied that at least one of their originators hasn't surrendered to the ubiquitous electro-pop sound just yet.

Compared to the majority of the material on the parent releases, they're placid, ambient pieces that are not nearly as disturbed but recall the quiet menace of 23 Skidoo's Urban Gamelan and The Culling Is Coming, as well as the drum-less ambient dub side of Basic Channel.

His hopped-up hipster everyman with a bruised heart style is perfect for the band's small-club intensity, and the album leaps out of the speakers with an intense power that makes it more than just a commemoration of their 2010 tour; it's a vital addition to their already near-perfect catalog.

Sounding grand and intimate at the same time isn't easy, but on Old Friends, I Was a King make it seem as simple and as pleasurable as walking barefoot through the grass on a warm day.

If the music on Go-Go Boots is less physical than what the Drive-By Truckers typically deliver, it's emphatic and passionate, with an impressive sense of dynamics and as much soul as these folks have ever summoned in the studio -- they've rocked a lot harder, but they've never cut a more natural and telling groove.

Perhaps it lacks ballast and gestalt, but Bright Eyes arguably operates better on a smaller scale, trading pretension for fractured pop that cuts into the cranium with skewed precision.

Grown Unknown explores a kind of lost elegance: it's half drowned-in-gorgeous-reverb country of the kind Gram Parsons could nod sagely at, half stately post-'60s rock & roll as elegant mood music via the Band rather than Roxy Music.

This sprawling mosaic of 22 songs has more room for melody and nuance than any of their previous albums, and they divine many moods and sounds within their fuzz.

Lowery might not want to make a career out of his serious side, but The Palace Guards shows he can wise up and still make music that's smart and satisfying.

Sahel Folk is an enriching and meditative listening experience, and introduces another aspect of the great -- and seemingly inexhaustible -- Malian Songhai musical tradition to the West.

It's a light stop-gap to hold fans over until Rae's third album.

As a debut, Wondervisions makes for a great mission statement from Delicate Steve, showcasing the songwriters' ability to craft engaging and exploratory instrumentals while still being accessible and fun.