A two-disc set documenting archival demos and an early live recording, The Singing Postman Delivers demonstrates that for the most part, John Prine's musical persona emerged fully formed.

Barfly's 11 tracks find a band unsure of which direction to take, eventually settling on a version of muddled garage rock.

Hazed Dream is the perfect place for you to tune in and turn on.

While some tracks prove unradical, it is when Astronautalis fuses heavy bluesy-rock influences with his beats that Science truly shines.

This scorching set of amplified electro-acoustic spiritualism between the pair and the mighty Mats is an effective snapshot of the potential for what could have been.

Gold Panda seems most interested in the former on his DJ-Kicks mix, keeping the dynamics understated, but the results are consistently interesting, melodic, and effective.

El Camino offers, like they say in Spinal Tap, something none more black, lean mean T-Rex-ish blues party pop (because the melodies are audaciously and apologetically catchy) that spirals nearly out of control yet is reigned in (really?!?) by producer Danger Mouse at his most spare and frame making.

Once just another also ran in a genre destined for obscurity, Jack's Mannequin have moved out of the emo ghetto and settled in nicely into a nice indie rock neighborhood.

Good News is an immediately infectious work.

COIN COIN is not an album made for casual listening (that's probably the idea) nor is it entirely successful, but it has an absorbing quality that warrants further listens.

Maybe it's just a question of getting used to this new Mangan, but you can't help but lament the old one's demise.

Perhaps the most tangible set of songs he has produced yet.

At times, Pterodactyl wedges in too many layers, so that the parts blur together in a formless murk.

Sit back, dig The Cambodian Space Project, and be prepared to be impressed. Very impressed.

With U feels fresh, new and mysterious.

Ersatz G.B. is a lesser Fall album, not as good as Your Future Our Clutter or The Real New Fall LP, and certainly not on a par with earlier landmarks like Slates and Hex Induction Hour.... Even so... there's enough fire and venom here to excuse occasional soft spots.

On Wonder/Wander Koone transcends such dippy, blog-generated catch-phrasing, displaying a sense of genuine dominion within the art of experimental laptop pop.

It's Apocalypse a-go-go for the Georgia gentlemen. Go with them.

Despite the obvious care for craftsmanship, no standouts emerge.

Not a weak track on the album.

In the end, though there are sublime moments on In Animal Tongue, the language of these insular and dark songs does not always translate well.

Hum-worthy ditties that suggest Artificial Heart is definitely the real deal.

Her Space Holiday brings together all the key elements of Bianchi's decade-and-a-half of coloring outside the lines of the pop infrastructure to deliver a swan song appropriately fitting for his underrated one-man-act.

The remastered discs sound great.

Every Step's A Yes is a stylistic mish-mash with a few notable gems worthy of downloading.

Peggy Sue's Acrobats is one of the most scattered, schizophrenic, soul questioning--and beautiful and best records of the year.

There's still plenty of glamor and atmosphere in the Crystal Stilts' aura, but with this EP a significantly clearer sense of structure and purpose.

With Major/Minor Thrice have stripped away unnecessary studio production, added instrumentation and pretention to offer simply a great rock album.

For as much effort Keenan puts into the head-scratching, overarching plot of this project, he puts as much gumption into the music that, on its own, could illuminate an applause sign.

Since that time in 1991, U2 has had other weighty tracks, sensualist personal soliloquies and dense production - but nothing better than this truly real thing.

There's a tip towards tradition that boasts more than a hint of reverence as well

Swimming in catchy melodies and tantalizing music (along with Wilson's vocal abilities), it may be difficult to select a favorite track within Glowing Mouth--but it's quite easy to enjoy.

Freeclouds balances strummy, acoustic campfire sensitivity with sweeping, anthemic rock a la sometime tour mates in the War on Drugs, tipping both styles into wild, mildly psychotropic territories.

Komba, the band's third album, ups the techno factor from 2008's Black Diamond, pushing Buraka's infectious kuduro-samba-house-rave hybrid into shinier, more modernistic directions.

Gentle introspection--instead of the outright melancholy he often exudes--paired with sway-worthy melodies make Parallax the most listenable Atlas Sound album to date.

It might not qualify as a lost classic, but Social Climbers' sole output does celebrate a band who played what they felt, even if it meant being ostracized by both the sub-underground and the masses.

What he does best is craft heart-string cautionary tales.

I Wake Up Screaming is an absolute delight, a rhythmically exhilarating, lyrically humorous, melodically intoxicating collection of thirteen terrific songs.

Wolfroy Goes to Town haunts you quietly, in a private way that is, somehow, all the more devastating.

The album is not a total departure from previous work, and their admirers will be elated at this crackerjack effort and the opportunity to live music the Strange Boys way once again.

A fine batch of bittersweet pop songs that are nearly impossible to ignore.

Given the complex menagerie of moods and movements interpolated amongst the din of this septet of songs, it seems like the man has indeed accomplished his mission.

There's a dose of the otherworldly in these evocative tracks, but laced, in all but a few cases, with recognizable bits of ordinary life.

Worden does "brave the war" and becomes quite the victor on All Things Will Unwind, the third studio release and a wowing conclusion to the trifecta of work she has produced since 2006.

That's the modesty and humility typically missing in all those acclaimed geniuses. But it's precisely what allows Henry access to the truths that make his songs unforgettable.

Long Vacations isn't a bad album per se (Rouse is too gifted a songwriter to make a genuinely bad album), but it has the sound of an uninspired one.

That McCombs is seeking a specialized niche seems all too obvious, even though his sound flirts with being elusive.

Every bit as riveting as the groundbreaking music is the ever-present studio chatter.

All together, this is a very classy compilation, and an essential piece of the global puzzle of 20th century music.

Harding's adept at melding a simple slice of life with irresistible refrains, and that's what allows The Sound of His Own Voice to soar ever so sweetly.

The album is not terrible, just not terribly original either.

He still has plenty to communicate, his music not losing any creative potency over the years.

It turns out that "Brandenburg Gate" is one of the only songs with an actual melody. The rest of Lulu is full of recycled, repetitive riffs; endless drones; more sex and violence than a slasher movie.

Biophilia is a delicate and highly tactile treat, a unique gem of innovation (pipe organs driven by computers, the mallet-tickled gameleste) and gentle real soul whose breathy endearing heights Bjork hasn't touched in a minute.

It would have been better to be more sharply focused, and more limited in scope, so a wider audience could discover it and maybe love it as much as Johnny Boy.

Co-written and produced by his missus Kathleen Brennan, Waits' songs--Bad as Me included--find their center immediately and stick like a record's skip.

Divine Providence apparently isn't a realm for the faint of heart, but those with the verve to vent their all may find it a welcome retreat.

Conspired in their Windy City origins at Andy's grandmother's house, Gauntlet Hair the LP is otherwise a fantastical recording, a complete artistic metamorphosis from the pair's raw-dog early 7-inches for Forest Family and Mexican Summer that finds Andy and Craig refining their edge to reveal the silver lining behind their inherit sonic clutter.

The problem with 4everevolution is that it takes too long to get to the good moments.

A must-have item for collectors and die-hards, this is also good for casual fans that may not have all the classic songs in their collection.

Only four songs on here but it's a good four songs.

Lovingly named after Rod Serling's cult post-Twilight Zone program and, in all intents and purposes, is just as thrilling.

A tripped-out masterpiece of transcendental space fuzz that pays tribute to the ruins of Italy that goes beyond the headiest moments of Pink Floyd's legendary performance inside of that coliseum in Pompeii.

Blue Songs has impressive diversity and variety.

The rock instruments--drums, keyboards and guitar--set the framework, but it's the chamber music instrument that blows the doors down.

There are times when Wilson's meandering style emphasis on ambiance turns on a twilight sound.

This may be as good as it gets for Dreamers of the Ghetto, and it's really just fair.

The operatics of her voice make it the most intriguing instrument on the album but the new exploration of violins and cellos that feminize the massive drum fills make Conatus even more astounding.

Some of his best work, however, comes under the guise of his own name, as is the case with Crow's new album, He Thinks He's People.

At times, Wand does become something of a scavenger hunt for dedicated fans.

Isaak has somehow managed to make the homage almost as enjoyable as the originals. Almost.

An entertaining album that follows no musical rules, a record interconnected by one common denominator--that there happily isn't one.

Clearly not one to mess with, this confident, compelling outing suggests she can hold her own even within the top tier of alt-country's rowdier women.

Not one single note on this record fails to contribute something to the overall mood.

This is an elegant product of hard work and musicianship that shouldn't be dismissed because it is not entirely new material.

The Devil's Walks minimal electronic landscape is mesmerizing and perfect for a quiet, rainy day of contemplation.

"Det Hester!" and "Dresinen" vary the formula a bit with, respectively, squelchy synth-bass and fuzzy electric guitar, while the album-closing "Aldri Ska Me Ha Det Goy" is a oozing slo-mo ballad that layers Endresen's vocals to suggest The Four Seasons Sing Pet Sounds.

This is a case wherein open minds--and some patience--are likely to be rewarded.

The songs on Deeper Into Dream don't manage to connect with listeners like some of Lee's previous work.

Dreams Come True will certainly appeal to anyone who enjoys their new wave artful and avant-garde, both of which are delivered in spades across this exceptional LP that will surely be lost on many Grizzly Bear fans looking for an extension of their sonic safety net.

Mostly it's hard to say what puts Veronica Falls over the top in a genre where so many fall flat. Enthusiasm? Personality? Songs? Probably all of that, as well as the indefinable quality that makes old genres come alive again.

As always, Russell's articulate arrangements embolden the material and give them the grit it deserves.

At any rate, Behind the Parade lobs another handful of Keene klassiks into the katalogue.

Robert Earl Keen is a master storyteller who blends acoustic, nylon and steel guitar with solid percussion and his pure, distinct voice into the finest Americana has to offer.

Phillips' agile vocals sweep over these mostly ragtag arrangements and provide the emphasis and impact that each of these songs demand.

Yet aside from that one cut, Megafaun's self-titled album seamlessly integrates an easy-going tuneful-ness with a nearly mystical devotion to tone and texture.

The last song, a sparse electric guitar ballad, identifies another dualism: it's called "Get It Wrong, Get It Right," and like most of the rest of this unsettled album, it gets it right.

Pull Up Some Dust and Sit Down (Nonesuch/Perro Verde) ranks not only among his very best releases, but among the best socio-political albums ever made.

The instrumental nuances make for a vibrant whole, but often times, less works best.

The Whole Love should make long-running Wilco-ites ecstatic since this is the best and most adventurous set of Wilco songs in nearly a decade.

This artistic upgrade from their previous work is further enhanced by a significant expansion of their sonic arsenal, including piano, cello, Mellotron and female backing vocals courtesy of Crystal Stilts/Dum Dum Girls/Vivian Girls drummer Frankie Rose.

While obviously studying their heroes with a fine tooth comb, Big Troubles has done a perfect job of combining past and present guitar pop into one 30 minute stew.

Wildlife has the feel of both a consolidation and an introduction, as the band runs every permutation of the underground guitar rock it loves through the ringer of singer Joe Cardamone's singular vision.

Whatever the fuel, the songsmith has created sterling and a wonderfully adventurous record that is quite possibly his best since 1995's 100% Fun.

Sweetheart of the Sun is something special, easily the second best album of their career.

What Thundercat has created with The Golden Age of Apocalypse is the sonic equivalent to a power-packed issue of Wax Poetics, bringing together several disparate elements of one nation under a groove to build a challenging and soulful playground for his indelible skills on the bass.

If this all sounds sort of strange or back-handed, that can be attributed to the fact that Strange Mercy takes a few listens to grasp, and it makes the repeat visits enticing. And that's a sign of a strong album.

Seasons on Earth is like a wry, forgiving smile set to music, its pleasures veined with melancholy, its ruefulness buoyed by hope.