A cohesive blend of intelligent '60s rock and power pop that sounds like an extension of New Pornographer A.C. Newman's Slow Wonder as played by Cheap Trick.

[A] knack for re-creating the already re-created sounds of their peers keeps rearing up on Hurricane Bar, and it docks the album points in the genuineness department.

A Few Steps More balances the intimate charm of Monade's previous work with a slightly more ambitious, but still off-the-cuff, feel that should please Sadier fans.

Story of My Life is polished, but it's far from slick; it's honest, wears its heart on its sleeve and is full of imagination, grace, and spit.

At worst, it feels unfinished, and at best, it feels like a mixtape cobbled together from mostly choice tracks but without that overseer's polish.

Doves' best yet.

Perhaps the only match for the cerebral weirdness and eventual beauty of Mars Volta's lyrics is their music itself.

It's refined and focused, but also sexy and intimate.

Song for song, Rebirth has more energy and better hooks than her other albums.

Spektor is an engaging performer throughout the album, and despite her arty quirks, she's never pretentious.

The genre-blending charm and sweetness that made Brushfire Fairytales and On and On so nice doesn't change that much, but does it really have to change?

Back to Me is a powerful and affecting album from an artist who is quickly establishing herself as a major talent.

Angel of Retribution does indeed rock just hard enough to please longtime fans and convert a few new ones along the way.

Make Do With What You Got sounds like an overly anxious attempt to re-create the sound of vintage R&B sides that gets the surfaces right but never quite captures the heart and soul of the music.

Stone Roses fans who haven't tracked Brown's musical progress after that band's breakup will find much to love on Solarized, another mini-masterpiece that perfectly balances mood and melody.

It's their seamless and agreeable blend of rock & roll, country, and Roky Erickson-style psychedelia, matched with a keen lyrical wit, that makes them fascinating to both sides of the pond.

Fans of the newly resurgent psych-folk scene should definitely investigate the record and the band, too.

It wants terribly to be an important record, but its songs are merely good.

As a cohesive work, The Beekeeper holds together better than nearly any of Tori's more ambitious albums, but there's a certain artsy distance that keeps this from being as emotionally immediate or as memorable as her first two records.

Ward's voice is a slap-delayed pastiche of Ron Sexsmith's easygoing croon and Andrew Bird's closed-mouth drawl, and like his front-porch fingerpicking, it's as effortless as it is effective.

Clem Snide's fifth album holds no surprises for anyone who has heard albums one through four. End of Love is just as whip smart, goofy, and satisfying as any of them.

Actually one of the band's most enjoyable releases.

It's often impenetrable and there are a couple derailments... but it's never off-putting.

Ida continues to create slow, sad music that maintains interesting depth within the ache.

Stand[s] alongside Something to Remember Me By as his strongest album.

So darkly delicious you have to admit it's their masterwork.

Woman King is too short to be considered the high point of Iron & Wine's career -- it certainly points in that direction, though.

The negativity removes the focus from Busdriver's sizable musical talents and rests it squarely on his lyricism and themes (not a good idea).