Fondness for Jackleg only grows the more time you spend with it.

The rock vibe of past records is all but gone but not completely as the final song, “Brio” smokes along.

Phillips’ very considerable skill is in getting to the core of an idea, stripping it down to essentials and then shading it subtly with cross-currents of meaning and musical counterpoint.

The Ash & Clay, which is the new record from The Milk Carton Kids, is a fine representation of a dish that’s been plated to near perfection with but a small amount of key elements to make it a delight.

Certainly, there’s a fine line in-between a record bearing cohesion and every song being a clone of the tune before it, but Naomi suffers, even if slightly so, from multiple personalities.

Soft Will is certainly pleasant enough (which shouldn’t really be what you’re striving for with a rock album), and I’m sure is being hailed by indie taste makers everywhere who like their rock on the sterile side.

Melbourne is easy to listen to, but hard to make sense of.

Paul Walker’s not for everyone but will at least get the 40-somethings to quit bitching about Green Day.

To the Happy Few combines the experience of veterans with the joy of rediscovery.

Written while staying in the New Jersey house in which he grew up, the record isn’t so much nostalgic as wistful, as if Jones was surveying the streets he used to walk with good memories but no desire to relive the past.

As long as those instrumental additives remain intact, Poco will always excel in more than name alone, but with fewer voices in the mix, it also remains a challenge to reach that high bar established so early on.

Flowers is his third solo record and, unsurprisingly, it’s a collection of lush, textured compositions that, intentionally or not, accurately depict the graceful, exciting and endless landscapes that Iceland is so famed for.

Fortunately, most of the singers feel a kinship to Drake that comes through. They communicate that this is a cause worthy of their most thoughtful interpretive skills.

Anthemic stuff abounds here but they really hit a powerful stride in the middle with the fast-paced “Lizard Kids,” the funky bottom of “Lunar Phobia” and the girl-group sweetness of “Wrack Attack.”

Club 8 exist in their own bubble and continue to make music for themselves. You can’t fault them for that, on the contrary, they deserve your deeper respect for it.

Waiting for Something To Happen is an excellent record.

Though there are some slow-burners on this record; songs that might not stick on the first or second go round, they are worth the patience once they finally click with the listener.

The overall mood, however, is thoughtful and somber: unlike You Are Not Alone, this is a contemplative late-night album rather than a celebratory Sunday morning one. It’s wonderful.

Year of No Returning may not be the definitive post-Harpoons Furman record – he’s got another one coming this fall--but it is an album to build on.

Yessir Whatever may not be as essential as other titles in the extensive Madlib library, but is definitely worth checking out if you dig the id of his art.

It makes for a suitably successful second record that, regardless of the salacious story surrounding the band that made it, pretty much lives up to the inspiring promise of their first.

Subtlety and finesse are the watchwords here, two elements that deliver artistic intrigue.

Cosmic concoctions of this sort are all too rare these days, so it’s rather refreshing to hear this sound revisited, particularly with the added investment in melody that Elephant Stone tends to allow.

Somewhere between the somber and the swagger are the expansive and loosely-narrative “King of Cleveland” and “Famous Friends Along the Coast,” which both play like cinematic vignettes. Rich with imagery, resonance and hooks, they feel less esoteric than the rest of the album. But these songs are relatable and immediate, and lend a groundedness to the 12-track collection.

This album balances that joy and sadness perfectly and powerfully.

None of these songs (well maybe “Hear No Evil”) will really shock long-term Lightning Bolt fans--but they do depart in interesting ways from the main project.

Practically vibrating with the will to realize its ambition, Crime & the City Solution finally produces its masterpiece.

To fully appreciate the album, it needs close attention. The magic comes when the members of the quartet start bumping each other up to the next musical level, and it helps to discover the steps they take to do that.