Interspersed in between the renditions throughout the course of Accelerando... are five outstanding Iyer-penned performances.

No One Knows is a subtle album, one that requires time and patience to allow its hooks to sink in.

It's an A-list of contributors for sure, but what's most impressive is how Hogan makes each offering her own.

[The Cherry Thing] serves as a reminder that Neneh Cherry is a certifiable musical treasure.

It has the breadth, intelligence, mystery and ambitious arrangements of a major work. With 19 songs, it's maybe a touch too long, but almost every song is vivid in its poetry and instrumental coloration.

No, that's why God made the CD player's "skip" and "program" buttons.

Once again breathing new life into an old form, The Sugarman Three are back to show us all How It's Supposed To Be Done.

Generals has some gems of its own, but take a bit more digging to find.

More studio sympathy and less technical trickery might've made The Bravest Man in the Universe a minor classic.

Tucker has a remarkable grasp of melodic, psychedelic pop; his album - 35 minutes of pure psych power - will stimulate the senses and take one's mind elsewhere.

At its most affecting What We Saw from the Cheap Seats is a sad and touching record, filled with love and the memory of .... Parts of [the album] feel either disposable or a revisiting of old ground.

Shows him clearly confident on his own.

Japandroids sophomore effort is loaded end to end with great songwriting and the joy they've found in their influences.

Few albums dare to even come close to this stunning degree of grandeur, but with Here the Magnetic Zeros not only raise the bar, but easily scale it as well.

If you dig big choruses, the sound of a heart breaking and just the right amount of sweat on your brow, then Like a Fire That Consumes All Before It is for you.

Cut for cut, Big Station is as strong a record as he's ever made.

A breezy, but challenging mix of pop and folk rock songs.

Neil Young and Crazy Horse just never disappoint.

Crocodiles play with great passion and honesty, and the album tackles every human emotion. Consider it an instant classic.

Though not as visceral as previous outings, WIXIW has its charms.

Heaven isn't 100% bliss, but the Walkmen have taken themselves and their fans one step closer.

Ufabulum easily stands as his strongest and most consistent work since Go Plastic.

Internal Logic pits fractious churn and friction against head-spinning harmonies, and here's the surprise, everybody wins.

If Hit Parade doesn't get Nourallah on more folk's radar well, their radar is done busted.

These songs are like pearls, lustrous, unknowable and happiest next to bare skin.

What is the Meaning of What is a copious groove intensive monster of a dance-punk record.

This is the third album Stuart has done with this band, and they continue to find surprising and delightful ways to rev up Stuart's performances.

Royal Headache's debut begins in a pounding, pummeling riff-based rampage, all double-timed guitar strumming and frantic one-two drumming. "Never Again," the lead off track, runs as fast and hard and ragged as any punk anthem, taking the corners with two wheels off the ground.

Too much of The Politics of Envy sounds like the mid-'80s acts that glued British pop back together after bands like the Pop Group smashed it to bits.

Slippery, shimmery, beautiful songs.

So its songs aren't exactly of the hum-along variety. No matter. There's no denying Sun Kil Moon's luminous glow.

[Williams] remains agile, mobile and hostile as the Sadies choogle, twang and vamp behind him.

If you're looking for something that's groundbreaking, thought provoking, unique and ultimately worth the money, don't bother.

Ultimately, The Body Wins serves up an unusual brew, one that spans the expanse between a perky bounce ("Mannequin Woman") and haunting circumstance ("Hooray for Love"). Both eerie and intriguing.

While the pomp and sense of urgency may be gone from the band's '90s heyday, this is a solid effort and a worthy choice for rock fans who want something loud to drive fast to.

There's a cocktail cool to "Troublemaker" that goes nicely with the singer's Nico-on-a-bender routine. And "Irene" with its hypnotic refrain and ice-thawing emotionalism is the sort of heartbreaking melody that made you fall in love with the pair in the first place.

Everything [on Dismania] has weight. And makes just about anything (other than the examples cited above) that's been calling itself Retro/Garage/Psych Rock sound, suddenly, rather tame.

For you kids out there planning to attend space camp, I can't think of better counselors than Elders and Valentine to take you far out where few have journeyed before.

Yet another viciously fun balls-out rocker of an album.

Mr. Impossible [is] a record that shows a band evolving, as it embraces full-on melodicism with a cheeky goofball spirit.

The Pearl Sessions with newly found studio outtakes, live performances and chatter rarities, the tumult of its original 1971 (three months after her passing) comes through loud and clear.

As far as songcraft is concerned, this may be Benson's most consistent record, and What Kind of World will induce ecstasy in the faithful and shocked delight in newcomers.

Wainwright has a true gift for turning heartbreak into brilliant folk rock.

Novak may keep his arrangements raw and his vocals tunefully challenged, but his songcraft improves with every tune.

Music that alternates magnetic engagement with "F...k you" sarcasm.

The Ghost in the Daylight (Warp) is a quieter, more overtly folky album than 2007's Western Lands. There is no obvious focal point - nothing like gorgeous, pick-clawed "Trust" from the previous album - only a series of acoustic songs that flare gently from rueful nostalgia to sudden melancholy.

Blunderbuss is good, damn good, and its' few missteps unthinking.

[A] gorgeous outing from one of rock's best pop-smiths.

A nourishing collation, Fear Fun has more rock (than the work of Fleet Foxes, or on Tillman's previous solo work), masterfully nuanced production (by Jonathan Wilson), and some exemplary compositions.

Well-constructed, sophisticated, relaxing, and pleasant.

The disc turns more experimental as it progresses.

This is one of the best albums of the year.

Moments of stark beauty do chime or trill within the trio's overall locked-in-the-engine-room sound.

The preponderance of the material here creates its own world, on its own terms, and beckons you to go inside. And you will.

Women & Work finds the Memphis band at complete ease with their mix of '70s outlaw country and plenty of punk rock attitude and swagger, making it easily the most consistently solid release in their already enviable cannon of music.

For those a bit put off by the overt club friendliness of The Field but intrigued by Willner's affinity for glitch, Loops is definitely your conduit into the abstract nature of this BPM bard's state of mind.

Unassuming and uncluttered, Television of Saints is intimate yet expressive, as if birthed on a breeze.

[The] excellent Faithful Man is a product of the dream team of producers, arrangers, songwriters and players (the house band called the Expressions) at Brooklyn's Truth & Soul Records, whose history parallels Brooklyn's better-known Daptone.

It feels like a declaration of purpose instead, made all the stronger for having passed through the crucible of Bachmann's doubts, through the armor breaks, and straight into-and from-the heart.

The 14 tracks here rank among some of the best Bird's ever done.

Isidore doesn't really feel like a "side" anything. It's a main event.

Sweet Heart's melancholy tunes are still grand, their orchestras soaring and their choruses rousing, even Phil Spector-orian in the epic kink, but they're more tightly wound than on previous efforts.

This band seems poised for some kind of breakthrough and Tiger Talk seems as a good a place as any for this to happen.

There's power in these grooves, but there's a message too, and it spells a better day for everyone.

A most welcome return.

While this isn't going to make you toss your copy of George Best, it shows the guy still has some gas left in his tank and is far from embarrassing himself.

Snider proves yet again that he is still one of the best musical commentators going today.

"Old Ash" and "Silver Self" bring to mind Paul Simon's Graceland, each song incorporating that same infectious shuffle and giddy exuberance that made Simon's world rhythms so compelling. And yet, that makes Beware and Be Grateful all the more confounding, given that some of their melodies seem on the verge of a disconnect.

Skyline reads as a series of tiny moments--not major life events but instead the beautiful, insignificant ephemera that falls away in the wake of life's progress.

While the band was hardly in a rut before, it nonetheless sounds revitalized here, reveling in big melodies and even bigger riffs.

Needless to say, The Wall's Immersion Edition is a visual thing of beauty, ...The undeniable black eye on this Immersion Edition, however, is the way by which they handled the inclusion of Roger Waters' solo demos... the majority of this coveted cache of rarities is whittled down to a series of poorly edited snippets that barely last a minute or even a few seconds in some instances.

All things considered, Stars and Satellites is easily this band's best effort yet.

Beaus$Eros is an interesting experiment. Busdriver is capable, obviously, in multiple genres, and has the restless, omnivorous kind of creativity that sees links between disparate styles.

Coming in at 11 songs, there is hardly a weak one on Go Fly a Kite and no real need to call out one track over the next, as all are pretty much worth the price of the album.

A Wasteland Companion belies its foreboding title, largely eschewing the hushed introspection that's cast a pall over previous efforts in favor of, well, a sound that's at least marginally more hopeful.

[Raitt] mostly returns to the quality soft-rock she perfected in her early solo career, but juices it up with hot guitar solos on almost every song.

A soundtrack for the sun-drenched summer months.

New Wild Everywhere conveys a new maturity for the GLS, showcasing the assembled talents of the members, and highlights promises of even better things to come in their future.

Band of Skulls has made a new rock and roll classic.

Form & Control exhibits a duality that splits the difference in the disparity of the Clap's soulful psych-pop/dance club fusion.

The entire affair is more open, relaxed and loose than he's ever been on record, qualities that appear easily and readily during his live shows.

Young Magic transform their emulation into a transformation of a style that's like nothing else out there.

Most of the songs are littered with cosmic debris, but fortunately it's all relegated to the background so as not to interfere with the percolating pace.

The record is a stellar collection of power pop rock songs.

In terms of pure triumph, Port of Morrow provides its listeners with safe harbor regardless.

Sonik Kicks may prove his most intriguing effort yet, an album awash in psychedelic suggestion, cosmic noodling and swooping, soaring performances driven by fresh enthusiasm.

A furtive solo debut, Simone Felice provides the perfect setting for meditation and musing.

Guitar player Wymond Miles plumbs deeper, existential questions on this four-song EP.

Big Star was more than the sum of its parts, and as evidenced here, Chilton was only just beginning to mine his.

Musically Stew and Rodewald hit a new peak, deftly mixing the psychedelic pop that's TNP's usual stock-in-trade with the musical sophistication acquired from writing for Broadway.

This is a record of experimental sound, no more or less, and is arguably as important an element in Batoh's musical makeup as anything involving guitar chords. But that doesn't make Brain Pulse Music particularly compelling, especially not to anyone craving a helping of Ghost music.

Consider this music a salve for the soul--restful, resigned, pretty and pensive... and yet as fragile as it is fleeting.

The textures of this material will transport its listener in ways that few albums of its ilk have achieved in recent memory, implementing the hallowed harmonies embedded in the Sunday mornings of Coldwell's Catholic upbringing to a new level of impassioned cohesion.

Earle has proven that he can embrace the past, look forward to the future and find peace through his music.

Dispossession works as a whole, rather than a collection of songs.

There's not an obvious departure from their last few releases, but there doesn't need to be as the band has settled comfortably into their sound.

While Memoryhouse might be demographically marketed to the youngsters, there's something in the retro-alternative beauty of The Slideshow Effect that aging Gen-Xers raised on the golden age of college radio might appreciate a little more.

Andre Williams, ladies and gentlemen: one of the last living links to the heyday of dirty R&B, super-soul and first generation booty funk. And certainly one of the few left who still brings it like he means it, every time.