The songs convey a lot of deep ideas without resorting to flowery prose. In fact the words are often fairly straightforward which ends up making the whole project hit a little deeper than initially anticipated.

Falling Off the Sky is a fresh start for the band that many of us thought should have dominated the 1980s. Clearly, they still have the chops to dominate the 2010's.

They ply the same general furrow as American contemporaries like Wooden Shjips, though with a tighter, more consciously limited focus.

Quever’s songs are meant to provide sweet succor, not catharsis, and in that Life Among the Savages proves to be pretty good company.

Benson’s created an album that stands as his best thus far, a vivid, emphatic encapsulation of pure pop coupled with unabashedly enthusiastic execution.

John Hiatt has now released over one third of his career recordings since the year 2000, and seems likely to continue to make good music for some time to come.

It is a flavorful fusion as unique as the Yugoslavian Spomenik that graces the cover of his eponymous full-length debut on Fat Possum - and one that stands apart from the seemingly endless barrage of home-recorded acts who have posted their wares on Blogger, Bandcamp and Tumblr these days.

While the lyrics here do tend to come off as pretentious at times, the sentiment is still admirable and actually pays off on songs like “March in September.”

Without sounding anything like Pet Sounds, Seeds We Sow indicates Buckingham has absorbed Wilson's lessons well.

Nature Noir feels like it’s got a bit more substance and structure, a natural foundation under the otherworldly sheen.

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.

It’s that free-flowing vibe that helps make this seem more like an overdue reunion for the home town crowd as much as any attempt at a polished performance.

The results meld as mood music of the highest variety--dense yet delicate, edgy and yet elegiac.

Like it or not, the synths are here to stay, and The Minimal Wave Tapes Volume Two adds several more fascinating pieces to the puzzle.

What you might miss in Fake Yoga, if you’ve been around for a while, are the mordant, Wilco-ish ballads that dotted Hesitation Eyes.... Still Fake Yoga is a very solid album and much more compelling than 2010’s Bible Stories.

This certainly seems like his most accessible effort yet, a sign perhaps that after years of being regarded as an odd man out, he’s ready to find that balance between talent and tenacity. Well done, old boy. Well done.

The mixtape of emotions Trentemoller has produced on Lost is proof of his virtuosity.

There's a sadness, a backwards-looking air to Tarnished Gold that's new. Once the Sparks' hallucinatory trippery signaled youth's endless possibilities. Now their songs, even the new ones, are filtered through a golden, dust-moted, late afternoon light.

The album in a nut shell? The Grand Theatre, Volume Two is the soundtrack to a chaotic night at the tavern followed by clarity the morning after--melodiously rowdy, then harmoniously depressed.

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

Once again, we have a very good recording from a very talented singer, songwriter, and performer.

The experimental sonic world Dosh creates is beautiful and he has created an eerily enchanting one with Milk Money.

Though his songwriting skills have rarely come to the fore, the quality of the material here--all of which he wrote, save a pair of covers--makes these tunes first rate.

Hearing “Love Is the Drug,” “Virginia Plain” and “The Bogus Man” this way embalms the material. And many lose a key dimension without vocals.

The set eschews songs in any traditional sense, opting instead for murky soundscapes characterized by minimal piano and acoustic guitar, suspended strings and a dense overlay of synths and drums.

All in all, United States demonstrates McLagan’s allegiance to a pure pop mantra.

A terrific beginning, Little Windows offers its audience a perfect view.

On Oni Pond, their fifth, is quite possibly the closest they will ever come to being considered de-cluttered.