Existing fans will find enough to satisfy them, but newbies should choose from earlier Los Lobos works for a better understanding of what makes these guys so special.

Cobb’s touch could use a little more grit overall, but Lund delivers an enjoyable romp that gets points on diversity. The album displays his impressive lyrical skills and enough sparks that could catch fire in tougher live versions propelled by rowdy crowds and concert electricity.

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.

Songs to Play may not be as incandescent and life affirming as the best of the wonderful Go-Betweens but at times it gets close, which is high praise indeed.

It’s all very much an artifact of its short era and is best appreciated as such. But Press Color captures a vibrant moment in New York City’s historically rich music history that can never be replicated. Even with its obvious flaws and retro vibe, it still feels creative, pulsating and oddly inspirational.

This project is far more adventurous in its presentation of a unique and provocative sonic palette.

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.

There is a tendency to scoff at the clichéd “back to his roots” concept of Cass County and you can’t help but wish some of the occasionally slick production was dialed down a notch. Regardless, it yields arguably Henley’s finest solo work and, at its best, music that stands with the Eagles’ finest country influenced moments.

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.

At fifteen tracks, the formula could easily have run stale were it not for a couple of sneaky surprises.

It is 1989 reimagined, with often startling results.

Production by longtime collaborator Thomas Bartlett and ex-Frames member David Odlum is inviting, alluring and engaging. It pushes Hansard into his finest performances yet on originals that are haunting, poignant and beautifully conceived.

There’s not a weak track in the dozen making this another candidate for blues release of the year from brothers who almost never got to play another note together. Making up for lost time never sounded so good.

How many times you’ll return to it is questionable, especially for power pop fans, but it’s a logical extension from the chamber accompaniment of the album’s opening songs and shows Folds to be even more gifted than many of his followers thought.

With the buzz silenced and the rag headlines but a thing of the past, it’s encouraging to see that The Libertines have lost none of what made them worth the hype in the first place.

It’s still early to throw accolades like “visionary” around but aspects of Clark’s music encourage that reaction. “This music sets me free,” he continues on “Healing,” and it’s likely to have the same effect on you.

Finn is still as sharp as ever with his details and as striking as ever with his lyrical gambits.

Nothing takes the place of Muddy’s performances with their emotional intensity and mind blowing musicality. But this heartfelt project makes a terrific reminder of just how great these songs are, unearths interesting, seldom heard Muddy sides even fans might not know and works as both a tribute to the legendary blues man and an impetus to go back and experience the originals.

After a few spins, some melodies seem a little less meandering. That’s part of the charm for this predominantly acoustic indie folk that feels as honest and truthful as it sounds.

It remains thrilling to hear the whiskey throated Stewart charging through these songs, urged on by Kenney Jones’ often frantic drumming and McLagan’s ever present keyboards. It’s also clear that a solo career was inevitable, a fact that ultimately broke up the band. None of the Faces’ four albums were without flaws, but even at their weakest, they get by on energy and a loopy yet palpable enthusiasm any act would envy.

Even though a handful of tunes seem forced, for the most part, Rateliff’s material and the brassy, bossy attack work well enough together to suggest this was a savvy career move, both artistically and commercially. Next time, if the songs mesh better with the arrangements, he might have a classic on his hands.

Like the band’s 2008 album Devotion, Depression Cherry is an impressive showcase of the kind of beauty that two musicians are capable of when stripped down to a bare-bones approach. It’s worked before, and it works again here.

It’s over in a compact 36 minutes but that’s plenty of time to realize this outfit is taking no prisoners in the quest to tear the roof off the sucker.

Based on recording location alone the varied musical approach to these 10 cuts veers from straight country, to rockabilly, R&B, rootsy rock and even some pop, all connected by Ortega’s trilling, bittersweet, instantly recognizable vocals.

Those willing to put forth the effort will be rewarded with a beautiful, stimulating and eclectic album that stands alone in a genre of its own making.

It’s not just quantity that makes this such a successful pairing. Haynes and Railroad Earth work beautifully together to create primarily unplugged music that is as driven, passionate and meticulously crafted as anything either has done on their own.

At 11 tracks that clock in just over half an hour, it’s done too quickly. But we spend just enough time in La Luz’s nocturnal surf world to push repeat and return again, an action the best albums always provoke.

By any measure, this is an engaging, complex, lyrically confrontational and intellectually intense 80 minutes.