This record is urgent, pissed, strident and macabre.

“Little Victories” and “Dogtown Days” may add momentary muscle — albeit it tenuously at that — but overall the focus is found in decidedly hushed happenstance. Happily, it’s hard to find fault with these tender trappings, one more reason why XOXO excels with little more than a calm caress.

Ultimately, The Future represents another plateau for a band that’s quickly earned a stellar reputation for both verve and versatility. The Future draws on those accomplishments through a timeless tapestry that offers reason to rejoice.

Those who haven’t absorbed this music yet will find it to be as edgy and intense as anything in Pop’s catalog, and deserving of the lavish treatment it receives here. Bowie fans, especially of his darker, experimental Berlin recordings, will also find this a welcome and even essential addition to his own classic albums of these storied years.

With an album as consistently strong as The Stand-In at this early stage, she has an impressive career ahead.

This type of music has been done before in a different time, same place--the album was recorded in Nashville--but it hasn't been done this well in quite a while.

[An] impressive debut that at only 10 tracks and barely a half hour leaves you wanting more.

Winchester won’t be recording any more music, but he has left us with plenty of classics and undiscovered gems with this final one a wonderful example of his humble yet impressive gifts.

This remains a moderate leap forward for them and indicates an adventurousness they will hopefully explore further on forthcoming albums.

Graveyard Whistling proves that even in the young man’s game of country rocking, growing older is no impediment to creating exciting, even exhilarating music that feels vital, fresh and dangerous.

With their beaming outpouring of positivity and joyous approach to life and love, this rousing music encourages togetherness in these troubled times.

Early James is a young artist infused with the ghosts of another time. His shape-shifting music is impossible to pigeonhole but after spending 35 minutes with it, you’ll understand that Auerbach has once again found a new, distinctive, impressively mature and strikingly focused talent with a bright future.

Consistency doesn’t count for much, but that may indeed be the point. Juice is a refreshing reminder that it’s better to sound a bit unhinged than to always be so common and consistent. For their part, Born Ruffians serve up all of spontaneity their spirited style allows.

The sumptuous yet sublime Lightning, Show Your Stuff, makes it apparent that quantity has never come at the expense of quality.

Even with the slight stench of commercialism tainting this release, and some sub-par material Good Times! exudes enough, well, good times to capture what made the Monkees so much better than their teeny-bopper peers and maintained a dedicated fan base for five decades. If this is their final recorded bow, at least they’ll go out in style.

A remarkable recording, it can easily be considered an album for the ages.

Early Takes Volume 1 might just be the ultimate George Harrison compilation because it pays such respect to that voice in terms of how it sounded and what it had to say, reminding us just how much we miss hearing it today.

Like the tumultuous atmosphere that was the backdrop of some of those ’60s albums, No Time for Love Songs reflects the current times with a sober and measured approach.

Datura4 should pump up the volume at any party whose participants are either over 60 or just love the music of the era known for black lights, skin tight trousers, beards and waist long hair.

Honest emotion comes through in every note and nuance. So too, that personal perspective brings honesty and immediacy that makes for an unmistakable impression. Clearly, this Crooked Tree is extremely well rooted.

The slower songs—“Stranger Things,” “Goodbye Mary,” “The First Time I Fell In Love,” “More Like a River,” and the aforementioned “When My Race Is Run” in particular—assure an emotional essence remains intact throughout. Taken in tandem, then, this City of Gold shines bright indeed.

There are a lot of songs here, and it overwhelms in one sitting, but even in small pieces, it’s clear that Tweedy takes home the songwriting ribbon at the father-son picnic.

So far, Jepsen has us in the palm of her hand. Every song, every beat, every intonation has been sublimely chosen.

The songs that stand out here are the ones that have the most authentic feel.

If you’re already a fan of Banhart’s recent work, this slots firmly into that leisurely, often lovely vibe. He has shifted away from the quirky “freak folk” of his early years into something just as odd, even subversive, around its edges, but far more relaxed and enjoyable.

Ultimately, the album's roomy sound and well-observed sentiments come across as byproducts of lived experience rather than of an extensive vinyl collection.

Give this West Coast quartet credit for honing its sound on this, the group’s third album.

His latest album isn’t a pop masterpiece, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t a few enjoyable tunes that even non-fans should be able to find themselves hitting the rewind button a time or two.

Earthling suggests Vedder can remain earthbound after all. Figure it’s his best yet.

The warmth Nail musters vocally is matched by the pairing of production big and bright enough for radio with performances that feel unmistakably like the work of real, live musicians with personalities.

Ultimately, Our Two Skins is an album that begs closer examination to fully flesh out those deeper designs.

While this album encompasses only a fraction of the total trajectory, it’s a fascinating glimpse at his his seminal sound. In that regard, The Width of a Circle is expansive indeed.

By smartly abandoning the hip-hop and indie rock impulses that have appeared on, and arguably watered down, previous NMAS releases, the brothers Dickinson focus on what they do best; grind out muddy boogie with the pulsating, sweat soaked intensity of those that originated the rustic music they clearly love.

This is raw, honest Americana featuring a punky edge that connects due to the power and passion it’s played with and inspired by.

Every Loser is commanding, powerful, and above all fun, proving that Pop has plenty of gas left in his aging tank.

This is another in a seemingly endless streak of quality albums from Richard Thompson, a journeyman artist in the homestretch of his long career, whose best years never seem to be behind him.

The sparse production rightly focuses on the vocals with a backing band that's in the pocket yet appropriately reserved.

Despite its many highlights though, it nonetheless falls short of accomplishing its goal with a performance that is highly professional, yet generally too measured and safe.

This album delivers pop at its most intelligent and affecting, stuff that, in a cooler world, would be beaming out of radios everywhere.

It’s miles from the bluesy/folk/country you might expect from a band with “Texas” or even “gentlemen” in its name. But proceed into Floor It!!! with an open mind and find plenty to enjoy.

Admirable though the attempt may be, I’ll Be Your Mirror too often misses its mark.

Without stronger, more diverse material, the whole frustratingly becomes less than the sum of its parts. Notwithstanding its good intentions, Sage Motel doesn’t resonate as forcefully as it should, especially in light of the amount of work clearly instilled into its creation.

Given its rallying refrains and carefully considered sentiment, Peace…Like A River easily ranks as Gov’t Mule’s most moving effort yet. This River flows courtesy of soul, sentiment, passion, and purpose.

For their part, the band is spotless. The majority of the record adheres to the lilting and forlorn brand of country that one might expect from an album called Invariable Heartache.

The good news is, it all works.

In the here and now, with Jump Rope Gazers, they are bounding past their contemporaries.

All told this a classy and worthy addition to your “Elvis, the later years” collection.

Olsen locates every last ounce of heartache within the song’s tale of someone who’s trapped between wanderlust and homesickness. If these are the leftovers, it’s fun to imagine how tasty Angel Olsen’s next main course will be.

With These 13, Mathus and Bird effectively put their own imprint on music of a vintage variety, reimagining an old-time sound from their own personal perspective. Consider it an elegiac effort, one that reflects both shared sentiment and deep devotion.

Unlike its predecessor, it comes across as a decidedly calming affair, one that stands apart from the earlier album’s brash and bombastic surge of racket and rumble.

The result is naturally a bit of a mish-mash, but all of the material is terrific and the sequencing makes this seem like a finished product.

This is classic folk that shimmers with a vitality and determination so hypnotic and cohesive, it seems like they wrote these selections themselves. And except for occasional passé references like “magpie’s nest,” “one evening fair,” and “by the roving of her eye,” there isn’t much dated about the gorgeous approach.

The Beast In Its Tracks is a gracious, relentlessly honest, post-breakup record.

Not everything is so different though, and in a good way. The Foo Fighters still adhere to the formula that sells out arenas from London to Japan.

By the time the Beatles’ “Blackbird” closes the set in a slowed down blues arrangement with a string quartet, most listeners will be wrung out emotionally from these expressive takes on generally seldom heard gems. Bettye LaVette may not have penned any, but she owns them just the same.

His latest album, Country Music, is Willie at his finest, characteristically understated and effortless.

There’s so much to absorb here, with creative lyrical and often jagged production twists, let alone melodies that veer all over the map, that you’ll quickly return for another cycle on Gallo’s musical merry-go-round to hear what you missed the first time.

Listening closely to A Small Death all the way through is like watching a melodramatic foreign movie; spellbinding and deliberately paced with an ambiance that leaves you reflective but anticipating better times are (hopefully) ahead.

Tuttle’s supple voice, nimble award winning guitar chops and obvious love for the material carries these versions.

For all the angst it musters, Electro Melodier is still a reasonably emphatic effort, one with a drive and determination that never finds cause to falter.

An immediate comparison that comes to mind is Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks, though by no means as expressive or adventurous. Away is, however, one of Okkervil River’s prettiest records to date.

Young, who hails from Murfreesboro, Tennessee, is acutely aware that now is the perfect time to up the musical ante, and it appears he's done just that.

The tunes on Set You Free will give his long-time followers more than they could have hoped for, while garnering new fans coast-to-coast.

It's about people, and Mellencamp continues to write and sing about them better and better with each passing year.

On The Dreamer, James includes some unlikely song choices, and most of them work.

Ultimately, the best complement one can pay the band at this point is simply to say that the new album is in fact the perfect primer for newcomers as well as further affirmation for those that have followed them all along. Getting Into Knives makes the point that The Mountain Goats are successfully finding their way to higher heights.

Overall this record shows not just promise, but quite a bit of realization of that promise. Many of these songs seem memorable and enduring… and individualistic.

It’s a perfect combination of restrained vocal phrasing with madly creative production and a certain candidate for one of the finest albums of the year.

It’s a haunting, generally melancholy 40 minutes that cries out for repeated playings to best capture the fleeting melodies, atmospheric performances and the singer’s delicate concepts.

There isn’t a single song here that doesn’t creep under the skin and remain lodged there for the duration of the encounter. Every one speaks directly to its listeners and resonates with them as well.

Despite, or maybe because of, the disparate approaches, the consistently entrancing Eternally Even is a stimulating and often spellbinding listening.

Bruce Springsteen's Wrecking Ball is that rare release that manages to fulfill, defy, and exceed expectations all at once.

It’s Okkervil River’s most mature album yet--coming after six previous records that were already fully formed.

For a songwriter with nearly two decades of performing under her belt, Marshall has never sounded so youthful or commanding.

The result is a warm, generally introspective but far from musty set that revels in predominantly acoustic material sung with Hiatt’s increasingly gruff, whiskeyed voice.

A fine comeback by any measure. Some 60 years on, the Stones are rolling as effortlessly as ever. Welcome back, boys.

The album has one major issue--it’s got too much going on in places.... But despite that flaw on this effort, it has a lot going for it.

For folks new to the Truckers, intrigued but a little overwhelmed by their rather expansive catalog, this is the album to start with.

His latest, instead, is rife with sumptuous arrangements steeped in gorgeous layers of piano and organ, with much subtler licks of guitar sliding in like skin on silk sheets.

The songs are rich with relentless, complex instrumentation, the smooth, ethereal voice of Yannis Philippakas, and dubious lyrics about life.

Like the most powerful of drugs, it will initially make you feel queasy. But once that passes, there’s a tangible bliss to be had... it’s the stuff addictions are made of.

This is not to say that this golden anniversary collection doesn’t do a perfectly respectable job. .... But with only one album of original material since the compilation in 2000, and a startling lack of liner notes in the 23-page booklet (the previous one boasted a book twice as long and far more comprehensive), there is little reason for this to exist other than to rake in some bucks by repackaging content any fan already has or for whoever doesn’t already own this material.

Credit Taylor and his colleagues —Alex Bingham (bass, vocals, mellotron), Chris Boerner (guitars, synth), Nick Flak (drums, percussion), and Sam Fributh (keys, vocals)—for executing an effort that can easily be considered another major achievement for this ever-consistent combo.

The Deslondes provide a thrilling, original blend of American music that can’t be found anywhere else.

While Welcome 2 Club XIII has been described by the band itself as autobiographical in nature, it still manages to retain the populist appeal that drove those earlier efforts.

Let’s Dance is the highlight of this 11- disc compilation which finds Bowie moving from that high point to some of his most unsatisfactory, misguided, uninspired and at times even embarrassing music (the ear-wincing Mick Jagger duet on “Dancing in the Streets,” anyone?). ... Two more discs of 1987’s Glass Spider tour with Peter Frampton on guitar document a successful jaunt where Bowie rescued some of the newer material in a flashy, elaborate, well received live show. A Dance platter of extended 12 mixes included here is for diehards only and the fourth volume of Re: Call collects another two platters of rarities, single edits, hard to find live tracks and the like.

Some of his best observations get lost in the full-throttle approach of songs like "Ecce Homo" and "Still Life With A Hot Deuce And Silver Platter." It isn't until the album's second half that pace slows, some open spaces appear in the music, and Stickles' rants come into clearer focus.

As usual, Petty makes it seem easy. And with help from his fellow Mudcrutchers, the unassumingly titled 2 is proof that even Tom Petty’s modest side projects are better and more compelling than many acts at their best.

If there's more of this stuff in Pearl Jam's vault, here's to hoping the guys sticks around long enough for Pearl Jam Thirty.

It's beautifully conceived, timeless music perfect for pity parties, languid Sunday mornings or times when introspection doesn't need to mean wallowing in sorrow.

This is as authentic as anything out of Nashville or Texas, elevated with terrific backing musicians who have supported such US loving Brits as Nick Lowe, Elvis Costello and Graham Parker.

Give ‘em credit for self-composing every track on this initial fist to the face offering even if there isn’t much originality to the sound. There is however sufficient raw blues and restraint in rugged ballads such as “No Good” and “Old Ways” to throw Joplin in as a logical touch point.

Don’t slot these guys into an Everly Brothers pigeonhole because not only is no one else releasing music like this, but the refined songwriting and flawless performances push these tunes into near classic territory.

The retro countrypolitan and rawer, roots elements that informed Lane’s previous Dan Auerbach-produced All or Nothin’ have been sanded down slightly on this follow-up.

It’s certainly one you’ll replay multiple times to appreciate the intricate sonic structure and imbibe Whitehorse’s often oblique wordplay with a sure sense of a hyphenated musical mixture that is elusively familiar and wildly idiosyncratic.

Musically, the occasional horns, a fuller production, and a more structured overall approach makes this eighth release the tightest, most focused Felice Brothers album yet.

The sparse solo acoustic “Be Easy” closes out the stunning Desert Dove, a splendid album that nimbly navigates footing on the tricky balancing act between Michaela Anne’s stellar performance, her striking material and superb production.

Magical, mystifying and flush with finesse, it’s easily Jurado’s most enticing effort yet.