The way the group interweaves its strengths on its take on Miles Davis’ “Nardis” shows the pure pleasure that comes from listening to experts who love their jobs doing them well.

A raw and solid debut, Basic Behaviour translates anguish into an intense yet catchy album.

Devour is a completely impressive collection from start to finish.

Overflowing with strong writing and excellent playing, City Forgiveness earns every minute of its two-CD sprawl.

It’s hypnotic in and of itself, and all impressions are purely in the ears/mind of the listener.

Here in his first solo full-length, he sands down the edges of the jazz-man’s axe, denaturing the sound until it evokes rather than presents itself. Almost all these songs have the drifting, half-heard, hard-to-pin-down sense-memory quality of music drifting in from other rooms, long ago.

With its live wet vocal production, bleaker-than-black lyrical mien and varied musical layers, the album could be one of the Minnesotan folk singer's finest ever, a richly diverse and dire epic revolving around the burning suns of love, death, truths and lies with only two weak songs in the bunch.

The Universe and Me offers more evidence that, as time goes by, Guided By Voices’ other songwriter may be aging more gracefully.

These beautiful, beguiling melodies make for an album that’s so rich and regal in both style and shimmer, it’s simply stunning to say the least. Prepare to be enticed.

Aside from the nine-minute rambling of “Everything Has to Be Just-so,” (coming at the end of the first disc, making it easy to skip), McCombs pulls off the rare feat of a double-disc that never runs short on inspiration or steam.

Gone are the raucous “Whiskey River”-style jams, but in its place are an albums worth of lazy afternoon porch songs that you can’t help but love.

The tenth Eels studio LP simply presents E's strengths as a songwriter and performer.

Stinson doesn’t try to be profound--he simply knocks out one greasy gem after another with an ease and grace that only comes from a combo of talent and experience.

His music has gotten more complex, more tuneful and more energetic. In Focus? is Tokumaru's most uptempo album, although that doesn't mean it's his most rocking.

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

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.

While this isn’t an earth shattering album, it is a solid one which serves as a reminder of what a talent she can be when she decides to get in touch.

The result is an album that’s unfailingly engaging, and, unsurprisingly, wholly exceptional at that.

Being a summer release, the sun really shines down on tunes like “Good Times,” with it’s go-go beat, “She Makes Me Laugh,” “Our Own World,” “Gotta Give It Time,’ and come on get happy with “You Bring the Summer.”

A vigorous, emphatic outing that offers little let up in terms of its energy and intensity.

Museum of Love is a nonformulaic, hard to pin down, quirky and danceable album.

Like 2008's The Living And The Dead, Blood leans on judicious electric guitar solos, most often from Shahzad Ismaily, who co-produced the album, but also from Grey Gersten and, on one track, Marc Ribot.

Eighteen tracks, usually a sign of a group that could use a little outside help cutting some of the fat, proves that the band was just hitting it’s stride. Eighteen songs and No Holiday still leaves you craving more.

Their self-titled debut was a good record, the follow up is a great one.

These songs are striking in a musical sense. Young, never the most dynamic vocalist, is remarkably expressive here.

Filled with some genuinely memorable moments The Helio Sequence show that if a band is open to experimentation and letting the light of the new day shine in, fascinating things can truly happen.

The lush production and whimsical tone complement May’s discerning ear for song arrangements, making Warm Blanket his most endearing effort yet.

Follow Me Home sounds like 1966, but like it’s happening all over again, organically and without premeditation, and it rocks.