All A Man Should Do keeps their solid streak going while tweaking the formula just enough to both earn new converts and surprise the faithful.

It’s a feeling of abject determination that makes this album different from many of Folds’ earlier endeavors, and, as a result, a somewhat more earnest offering as well. In that sense, What Matters Most reflects all its name intends to claim.

The material is consistently strong, thanks in large part to her ability to integrate her originals with a well-chosen collection of covers. And while she doesn’t feel the need to lean on standards, the material does have meaning.

Think Steely Dan minus Becker and Fagen’s wry, occasionally sneering lyrics, and you’re getting warm to Lake Street Dive’s approach.

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.

DiFranco stretches musical muscles to stay inspired on Binary. She continues to speak her mind with the pride, ferocity and integrity that has shaped an impressively rebellious career.

Red River Blue, alongside recent efforts by Blake's summer tour-mate Brad Paisley and wife Miranda Lambert, pretty much defines mainstream country these days – high-quality songs, great singing and musicianship, big production, and the same time-honored, predictable six or seven themes that we've all heard before.

Ellis’ first full length release taps into a discreet sense of introspection rare for any recording artist, let alone a relatively new one. It’s headphone music for lonesome, solitary Sunday mornings when the self-reflection temperature is high and the vibe is low boil.

Though he’s reportedly less than eager to release a ballad, some of the best moments of I’m a Fire are “Burnin’ Bed,” written by powerhouse Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally, that boasts a beautiful, progressive chorus and “The Secret,” that deals in death, infidelity and hidden love.

James has crafted an envelope of sound to bolster his unique, almost choirboy styled vocals, that's easy to tumble into.

The frenzied sound of “Brain Capers” implies certain complications just as “Fallout” seems intent on driving through whatever haze continues to confound us. There’s very little here that’s as clear-cut as the overall messaging might imply. Nevertheless, it’s clear that This Stupid World still manages to impart wisdom and reflection in equal and apt measures.

Supernatural Thing veers in a decidedly different direction. His cast of characters has a lot to do with that, due to the fact that he frequently cedes them the spotlight, but here again, his mood is clearly brighter all around. And that ensures Supernatural Thing doesn’t remain so ominous after all.

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.

His quality control remains in place though which makes No More Worlds to Conquer another absorbing, if maybe not essential, entry into a bulging catalog that has remarkably few missteps.

Like his dad, Nelson has a way of combining emotion, humor, and happenstance in equal proportions. That said, no comparisons are necessary. At this point in his career, this Nelson rests on a reputation all his own.

Before Arrow, I thought I liked this band; I thought I liked them a lot, even. Having seen this new side, though, a better word would be "love."

The Diving Board proves that Elton John is on the right musical path once again, sounding so energized by the familiar trappings that a career renaissance, which seemed a long shot a few years back, now seems thrillingly possible.

At this stage, you’re either a fan or have decided to leave these pumpkins squashed on the porch of rock history. For those in the former category, this is Billy Corgan at his most playful and, well, enjoyable.

If Only Run proves anything, it’s that Clap Your Hands Say Yeah are still making music on their own terms--they just have the budget and freedom to pull it off with a little more flash.

One of his most accessible albums, one that’s still as delightfully, deeply odd as he has always been.

Ultimately, Heavy Nights isn’t the sort of album designed to create an immediate impression. It demands repeated listens and an opportunity to dig deep well below the surface.

It marks a certain maturity that underscores Hiatt’s authenticity as both an artist and individual, and the strength she possesses when it comes to propelling that presence forward.

When Volume 3 soars above its status as just a nice summer soundtrack are the moments when Deschanel lets some deeper emotions break through the carefree demeanor of the songs.

Besides the band's signature quirky lyrics, Join Us also retains its well-known staccato guitar and keyboard interplay as well as a tendency for crazy-quilt arrangements.

Honeymoon isn’t quite as fine as Ultraviolence, but that’s less an indictment of the new album than high praise of the older one, which feels like an immediate classic. In any case, Del Rey’s rollercoaster of a career seems to have steadied on an impressively high level.

An album that floats and hovers with challenging lyrics and a timeless sound that’s often hypnotic in its lovely, sometimes surreal, often delightful qualities.

The album’s eclectic nature never feels random. Rather, it highlight’s Foster’s natural inclusive qualities and showcases an artist who, nearly two decades into her recording career, has refined and elaborated her vision of empowered redemption, both of which are in full flight on the superb Joy Comes Back.

Ultimately, without the abundance of the fitful, electrified abandon that permeated White’s past records--plus the fact that this album is clearly just another tiny sliver of the lexicon that may someday reveal his true scheme--some fans may feel moored on a lazaretto of dissatisfaction. Yet in the meantime, at the very least, Lazaretto is a damn catchy segue spot to await the arrival of the next intricate puzzle piece.