There’s no dancing allowed but anyone looking for a calm come-down after a night at the clubs, London Grammar speaks your language.

Stretching out with a few more solos would have given listeners a better bang for the buck, and made it more of a true bluegrass record. But if they make a few more albums, Lauderdale and Hunter may well end up attaining the almost mythical status of some of America's great writing teams. That's how good they are together.

The now mature musical relationship pays dividends as the baritone crooning of Lanegan and Campbell's breathy, Nico-inflected singing continue to deliver an atmospheric payoff.

The Yawpers never fall into cliché or dumb down their creativity, which makes American Man a success on every level.

This is an auspicious solo debut. Auerbach backs her with studio pros who have played on dozens of classic albums from Aretha to Neil Diamond, but she rises to the occasion with her commanding presence, terrific songs and powerhouse voice.

Hang on for a wild, careening drive as the Dead Weather take you on a searing ride through gutsy, fiery rock and roll that’s powerful and relentless, not to mention well played and tautly produced.

The new record is clearly an attempt to not only maintain their loyal legions, but also to expand their following through a more melodic MO. To that end, there’s a decided emphasis on providing the songs with compelling choruses, ready refrains and a sound that finds them operating within more catchy confines. To be sure, the band continues to rock both fearlessly and ferociously.

Despite its dark, cautionary subject matter, The Future Bites is Steven Wilson’s most powerful and commercially appealing set to date. Beautifully produced—it’s one of the first studio albums of new material mixed in Dolby Atmos surround—this is the bristling sound of Wilson taking a bite into the future of prog-rock.

The Hold Steady need not ever deviate from such a potent product.

Producer Flood (PJ Harvey, Sigur Rós) maintains the band’s raw appeal but lightly varnishes the sound to make the music’s intricacies truly glow amidst the atmospherics.

Forever Endeavour may be as solid a record as he’s has ever made, but it’s also more of the same, a retrenching rather than an expansion of his capabilities.

There's no fuss to his performance. He leans into the most desperate lines and nearly lets his voice crack, all in the service of the thing he's always been best at--making a heavyweight song hit home.

The crooning background vocals rise and trade phrases with a simple guitar solo that follows the melody of the main vocal line. It's a flush and full sound in perfect pairing with a sentiment that defines the entire album.

The record is, in many ways, the very project longtime fans of the Alabama singer-songwriter might have been hoping for for years: a direct collection of sharply-written originals that place White’s vulnerable vocals front and center.

These intimate performances are not made for the masses or background listening, and are all the more potent for that.

With the right material, this man as an artist has few flaws. Ghost on the Canvas allows Campbell one more chance to prove that again.

Slipstream is Bonnie Raitt's best album in years and one of the best of her 40-year career.

Still, assuming the point of any tribute album is to show the full breadth of the artist's influence, Rave On is a breezy success.

For all of its immediate sonic beauty, however, IE//CM’s slow, languid reveal requires patience and time to get acclimated.

While Stinson isn’t a great singer or songwriter, he exudes a scrappy persona that, like Keith Richards’, encompasses a heartfelt rock and roll strut.

This is another in a series of solid, R&B-soaked Sacred Steel albums, each a little better and more focused than the last, that further cements the pedal steel’s — and Robert Randolph’s own — musical place both in and outside of the church.

Together, the 12 songs reveal the distinct sound of The Magpie Salute, which successfully blends various genres without necessarily committing to any of them. Sonically, it sets a high water mark for a Part Three, should one be downriver.

Even if this is a stopgap release to buy time for writing new material, it’s a cool, fun and even informative set that’s as entertaining as the rest of the band’s work.

Few others, let alone from Texas, are creating anything quite like this. While it won’t bring Barrett back, The Black Angels are intent on keeping his art alive for future generations.

These selections twist in enough unique directions to keep from sounding dated, stale, or worse, ripped off outright. Rather, there’s crackling life and inspired sparkle to the performances despite the multiple overdubs and the lack of a band to gel with.

It's his easiest, least labored sounding record in years, still lushly produced yet not overly fussy.

The result is her finest, most poignant and accomplished album in an already impressive seven year solo career.

As an album, Valtari might not be the band's masterwork, but it very well could be their re-birth.