Picture Show should end up as one the year's most tuneful rock releases.

Those who have witnessed the group's floor-shaking live shows might be a bit disarmed by the deliberately dense and lo-fi production of "Boys & Girls."

We come to "A Wasteland Companion" with certain expectations. Happily, Ward meets them.

Blunderbuss isn't just (arguably) the best album of the year so far, it opens up a whole new world for him.

This is guilt-free bass bliss for a post-genre age.

Producer Greg Wells (Katy Perry, OneRepublic, Adele) dresses all that [emotional complexity and angst] up with greater sonic sophistication, guiding the All-American Rejects toward a more bombastic brand of pop.

An album that could've easily come from other Mississippi River stops where horns and funk pump through the bloodstreams-Chicago, Memphis or St. Louis.

It's indeed better the second time around, no matter who's running her down.

While Jourgensen seems re-engaged with his music, he's also more disinterested than ever in the wider pop culture.

Rich organ swells and muscular horn charts mark many of the 10 tracks, with a live, off-the-floor groove that levitates.

More than anything, Wrecking Ball is a record with heart.

As comeback albums go, though, this one feels unusually natural.

How About I Be Me (And You Be You)?, is a slap-upside-the-head reminder, a collection of heartfelt confessionals, evocative insights and provocative position statements.

Many of the dozen songs achieve the kind of meatiness that the group approached tentatively on The Fray.

An old-fashioned countrypolitan album-and a really good one at that.

A playful effort that comes from an ease with pop hooks and power-pop chords, a knowledge of how to employ a steady beat.

The sparse production recalls Cohen's 1988 release, "I'm Your Man," by throwing the Canadian balladeer's ever-deepening voice and his mix of poetic flair and pitch-black humor into satisfyingly stark relief.

They never supersede the originals, but hardly suffer in comparison.

Frontman Randy Blythe still growls his guts out while his bandmates hammer away at economy-sized grooves that suggest an extreme-sports version of Southern rock.

The band fares better in a handful of frothier cuts.

You can hear the result of all those showbiz connections in the radio-ready economy of high-sheen hook bombs.

The rage gives American Capitalist a fierce potency.

Based on David Lynch's reputation, one can expect his first album to be either weird or cinematic. He delivers on both counts on Crazy Clown Time.

It all sounds sturdy and fits comfortably down the middle, more dependable than daring.

It's a well-crafted brand of meat 'n potatoes hard rock.

Cee Lo Green's pre-"Fuck You" presence on the soundtrack to "The Twilight Saga: Eclipse" last year seemed to signal an expansion of the series' indie-dominated musical brand. That opening-up continues here with tunes by hipster-rap MC Theophilus London and Green's pal Bruno Mars.

Overall, another solid effort from one of country's finest.

Ambition nods to Ross' cartoon grandiosity in "Miami Nights," where Wale details his collection of luxury goods over a jubilant horn riff. Characteristically, though, the album heads in plenty of other directions as well.

Three albums in, Boyle sounds like she's finally arriving.

The SMiLE Sessions captures Wilson, session musicians and the Beach Boys in moments that are chaotic, loopy and remarkably in synch. It's a consistently brilliant album.

The more expansive arrangements suit McMahon's hyper-expressive singing, especially on a handful of cuts ("My Racing Thoughts," "Platform Fire") with keyboards by veteran session player Patrick Warren. But occasionally they make McMahon's songwriting feel less distinct than it has in the past.

Clearly you can take McBride--who co-wrote six of these tracks--anywhere and she'll sound just fine.

Mostly, though, the surprisingly warm-blooded Audio, Video, Disco reveals Justice to be human after all.

With Father, Son, Holy Ghost, the band has vaulted the equivalent of three albums ahead, taking the conciseness of the EP and confounding expectations.

Most of these strummy feel-good ditties-aw-shucks song titles include "Gotta Be Wrong Sometimes" and "Taking On the World Today"-make Jason Mraz sound like some kind of avant-garde noisemaker.

As always, though, Streisand sings the material like it was written expressly for her, elongating phrases at will and slowing most of the tempos to a luxurious Old Hollywood crawl. What matters most? Babs' bliss.

There are certainly smiles to be had as the group grouses its way through some of the most ambitiously arranged and melodically polished tunes it has released to date.

The tilting scales of light and dark give the collection a definite creep factor and a clever complexity.

Cali Swag District's surviving members memorialize M-Bone in the artwork of The Kickback, the group's debut full-length, which was originally set for release last year through Capitol before arriving in stores independently through a distribution deal with Sony RED. That dedication is a rare glimmer of gravity on a set filled with buzzy, lightweight odes to whips ("Burn Out [Drive Fast]"), women ("I'm Freaking You") and weed ("I Don't Need Your Money").

With a career clearly on the ascent, Neon lights the way for Young's next move up.

Word to Greyson: Hold on to 13 as long as you can.

This Atlanta-based R&B crooner has utilized the extraordinary sweetness of his voice to get away with plenty of lines that would sound irredeemably sleazy coming from other singers.

Among the many Odd Future efforts already circulating on the Internet, BlackenedWhite was a wise choice for an attempted mainstream incursion: It's got enough of the outfit's deranged humor to titillate tourists (see tracks "Gunsounds" and "Deaddeputy"), but softens the edginess with a pronounced pop sensibility.

Red Hot + Rio 2 takes some time to absorb, but it's sure to tide you over until the next Red Hot compilation is released.

Gold Cobra reminds us of how much fun a tight, no-holds-barred rap-metal record can be in the right hands.

The appealingly schizoid approach isn't unlike that of America's Melvins, whose 1991 song "Boris" provided the band with its name. On the new Heavy Rocks, Boris makes no effort to hem in that sound.

Heavy Rocks arrives in the marketplace along with Attention Please, a lower-key companion album that showcases the coolly resigned singing of lead guitarist Wata. Surprised? Don't be.

It's not the challenging listening experience that such recent albums as "Orchestrion" (2010) and "The Way Up" (2005) provided, but "What's It All About" is Metheny at his most genteel.

The album is quieter and torchier than its predecessors, with the singer delivering uniformly stellar vocal performances.

The nine tracks Ronson produced on Arabia Mountain (Deerhunter's Lockett Pundt helmed two; Black Lips produced five) show he's equally adept at plundering the garage, psych and punk treasure troves.

It's a worthwhile reinvention, but a little more noise wouldn't have hurt, either.

The duo and an assortment of guests-including Will.i.am, Busta Rhymes, GoonRock and Calvin Harris-extol the virtues of late nights, trendy tequilas, hard bodies and vibey DJs.

It's similar to Pitbull's newest album, Planet Pit, which blends everything but the kitchen sink in a frenetic jumble that's facile yet unadulterated fun.

Battles still sound determined here to inject their precision-geared prog-pop with the kind of humor and adventure one rarely encounters among bands that possess chops like these.

As the title of a song on new album "All of You" suggests, Colbie Caillat isn't afraid to sing about a world where we "Think Good Thoughts" - most of which are about her falling in love.

The album's dozen story songs-11 penned solely by Parton-are filled with uplifting sentiment and words of encouragement set against a variety of backdrops, most of them deeply rooted in country traditions rather than acquiescing to radio demands.

Rawlings' guitar work is an engaging mix of the decorative and functional, marvelously recorded and a perfect balance to the warmth of Welch's vocals.

The dozen tracks of effervescent, shimmering, faith-based synth pop blend Young's adenoidal, Warped tour-ready vocals with a decidedly '80s new wave flavor.

A phenomenally successful career as part of a duo doesn't guarantee success outside of it. But it should certainly come as no surprise that Ronnie Dunn doesn't slouch or stumble on his solo debut.

On the follow-up to her 2009 breakthrough album, "Bird-Brains," Merrill Garbus (aka Tune-Yards) again creates a clamorous assemblage of warm, overdriven kitchen-sink instrumentation, field hollering, layered stacks of processed vocals and a sonic smorgasbord culled from the world cafe-only more so.

Past Death Cab albums have found frontman Ben Gibbard penning youthful lyrics about the wariness and mystery of love, but now, the singer -- who recently married actress/musician Zooey Deschanel -- seems to finally be at peace with his strange, wonderful self.

While that post-9/11 set had a fantastic first single ("Ch-Check It Out") and nothing else close to its level, the group's latest lacks a standout track but is a consistent hodgepodge of slimy beats and no-nonsense rhyming.

Recorded in the garage of frontman Dave Grohl's home in Encino, Calif., the 11-song set is an explosive, high-octane burst of rock energy from a 16-year-old band that is tightly honed and righteously raw.

Jollett and company do it one more time, most definitely with feeling.

Only in closer Grown Ocean, with crashing cymbals and trilling woodwinds, do you get a sense that Fleet Foxes are actively trying to impress you. Even then, though, you're impressed all the same.

It's not surprising that his first new album in five years, "Tha Funk Capital of the World," is epic in scale, from its 16 mostly woofer-shaking tracks to the generation-spanning guest list.

So Beautiful or So What is vintage Simon, but it's also all over the map stylistically, touching on blues, African, folk, Indian and more. The music is unmistakably his, but finds the artist challenging himself melodically and with his phrasing.

The 13-track set, produced by Jay Joyce, assures us that she's more than OK, with a still-luminous voice that can make the phone book sound like Puccini.

Mary Mary never forgets to weave in an empowering, uplifting message that lingers long after the last note has sounded.

Bluesier and less electronic than its predecessor, "Blood Pressures" is by far the Kills' most accomplished and diverse set yet.

As the album's title suggests, Slug primarily concerns himself here with matters of home and family, but it's hardly a Hallmark affair.

What marks "No Devolucion" as an improvement over 2006's "A City by the Light Divided" and 2009's "Common Existence" is that frontman Geoff Rickly and his bandmates have finally written a batch of songs worthy of those complicated arrangements.

Akinmusire has chosen to challenge listeners, exploring free territory where Smith squeaks and squawks his way into the wilderness.

The set is an enveloping mix of melody, mood and texture that speaks to Robertson's triple-threat virtues as a performer, composer and producer.

American Tragedy is a tight mash-up between contemporary sonics and old-school aesthetic.

Austere and melancholy, dealing mostly with heartbreaks and farewells with a modicum of hope, new album "Paper Airplane" still conveys the rich and understated beauty that's always been the group's trademark.

Once again, TVOTR channels something unique and forward-thinking.

The 10-track set barely has a weak moment and actually ends too soon. It's like '90s alt-rock had a child who suddenly grew up beautiful.

The music is at its best when it emulates an animated conversation, one voice leap-frogging the other with no one losing sight of the central theme.

Stronger, Sara Evans' first studio album in six years, is proof that some things are worth waiting for.

It's a bold change of course that gave overseas ears pause when it was first released in July under the group name RPA & the United Nations of Sound.

Sonically it's a super-charged take on the girl-group sound, with thundering drums, multilayered vocals, heart-wrenching lyrics and loads of echo-all of which contrasts with her honeyed voice.

Jennifer Hudson has never sounded better.

The easier-but not exactly wiser-route for Brown would've been to take jabs at those who turned their backs on him, but his tactic here seems to give listeners a solid album.

For sure, Sabbath, Zeppelin and more obscure bands of the era like Wishbone Ash loom large over the proceedings, but Arbouretum breathes new life into a long-dormant genre with its melodic flair, the freshness of its approach and the tastefulness of its playing-and to call a band whose average song length is six to seven minutes "tasteful" is no faint praise.

It took awhile, but the Strokes have ultimately rewarded their fans' enduring patience.

Patti Smith, Eddie Vedder, Peaches and Lenny Kaye are along for the ride, helping Collapse Into Now stand tall in R.E.M.'s richly diverse canon.

Underneath the Pine is at its best on songs like Got Blinded, Still Sound and Divina, with solid grooves and discernable melodies that leap out from the kaleidoscopic bramble.

For all their diversity and maturity, these songs couldn't have been written by anyone else, and this welcome return shows that the three years since the last Bright Eyes album have been well spent.

The nearly 68-minute length of Immersion works against it at times, but the aforementioned "The Fountain" and the '80s-referencing "Encoder" make it well worth reaching the end.

Last time around, on 2007's In Rainbows, the music was just as interesting as all of the hoopla surrounding the album's impromptu, pay-what-you-will release. The King of Limbs cannot boast the same.

The 14-track set's distinguishing characteristic is a soul flavor of the Muscle Shoals variety, a smooth fit given the role of frontman Patterson Hood's father, David Hood, in that community as well as DBT's own work with Bettye LaVette and Booker T. Jones.

Martin largely shuns easy romanticism for more assertive messages that celebrate liberation and diversity, themes that can be associated with his coming out last year.

Kaputt continues Bejar's winning streak and is an early contender for indie-rock album of the year.

Deerhoof vs. Evil is more tentative than the group's best work, but its consistently dazzling musicianship carries the band as it explores different themes on a new label.

On the new collection Williams is sharp-tongued, wide-eyed and warm-hearted as she blends domestic bliss with her usual propensity toward the dark and mournful.

Cut Copy thrives when the ingredients are simple: melody, voice and its influences interpreted.

After uniting with Kings of Leon/Modest Mouse vet Jacquire King, the band has emerged with a set that's more inviting than its first but just as catchy.