Ra Ra Riot's third LP, Beta Love, is a lot like a colorful box of candy--a bright and infectious collection of songs that hooks you on first taste.

Taken as it is, this is a great summer’s coming album, the most fresh guitar pop record of the year, though it might be a bit too bright at times.

In addition to sharpening the lyrical content, Soft Will has some of the group’s complex and multifaceted bits of rock assemblage. There’s a confidence and control to the playing on this album.

A Place To Bury Strangers succeeds in one aspect: It produces music so hammering and explosively airy that it crumbles the very walls used to create such an echoed and amplified sound. It just fails to recognize that in doing so for almost 45-minutes straight, we begin to feel like we're getting buried alive under the rubble.

Taiga marks Danilova’s own internal struggle to continue to carve out her own musical path. And so far, so good.

In an increasingly bleak post-recession climate, jagged and somber post-punk seems a rather fitting lens, and Prinzhorn Dance School has mastered its execution.

On an album so concerned with straddling the invisible borders between the material and the spiritual, Wexler's disembodied voice becomes most powerful when seeping through space like a ghost in the machine, mysterious and ubiquitous as the existential questions he sings to life.

The trio’s past experiences may explain how it manages to exercise a seasoned talent for both variety and control.... The two “Recover” remixes, by Austria’s Cid Rim and U.K.-based Curxes, are filler. They’re pleasant on their own, but neither can hold up to the original.

This is a remarkably self-assured album, precise in its themes, particular in its language and modest in its ambitions.

Oddly enough, the most striking part of the record may be the transitions.

Frustratingly, the album’s lowest point comes directly after one of its high points.... That’s not to say that Surfing Strange isn’t impressive as a whole.

It’s stickily saccharine with spiky edges.

Though Le Bon composes in the dark, she shows us a lighter, quirkier side in CYRK.

The rest of Holy Fire is a counter-punch to “Inhaler,” a swerve that then hits all the more powerfully for setting us up with this false start.

Heidecker And Wood's music may not be meant for Tim And Eric, but it's certain that any fan of the show's comedy would enjoy chuckling to the sweet sensual sounds of Starting From Nowhere.

Without giving up its commitment to obfuscation or its sense of mystery, the band has crafted a fun, playful and eclectic collection of songs that reveal a more focused, melody-driven approach to writing and a surprising level of thematic coherence.

Despite the loftier academic allusions, the band’s music is most affective when dancing on the peppier side.

His delivery is raw, at times off-key, almost too rugged. Despite those lapses, the song retains the album’s overarching concept, which favors music in its most natural form.

This impatience turns into a tension, and this tension is what allows for ten tracks of what are essentially love ballads to remain interesting after repeated listens.

A solid road map of new found diversity and eclecticism is laid out throughout a large chunk of They Want My Soul, and despite the inevitable growing pains, Spoon really does seem poised to continue rising from the ashes of their near disappearance.

Although the dark, pulsing beauty of “Katla” feels like an appropriate close, somehow No One Dances Quite Like My Brothers feels too brief in relation to the depth of its emotions.

Conversations is an album that will sink you into some kind of woozy hypnotic stupor, not pull you out of one.

While it may not be a distinct step forward creatively, the blue-collared Allentown, PA, quartet has managed another solid effort that maintains its edge.

Crystal Stilts hasn't broken from what made it good in the first place -- but In Love With Oblivion proves that the group is coming into its own.

For now, this band’s M.O.--Graves’ machine gun mouth racing the bands’s nerve-strung music to the finishing line of each 113 plus/minus-second blast--is welcome in the currently, often drowsy world of indie guitar music.

The girls have made strides in bookending the album with tracks that are longer than six minutes-quite different from its usual two to three minutes-but the next step is to use the extended time to explore what else they could do with it.

There's a lot to enjoy in the Gringos' second effort, but mostly if your musical tastes never got past 1969.

Aesthethica is jugular-grabbing black metal-startling, complex... and also quite long.

The only mild complaint would be that some tracks feel a little too long (even for the genre) and sometimes a tad repetitive.

This record isn't as energetic and peppy as previous efforts, but don't confuse moodiness with lifelessness.

Last Summer sees Friedberger stretching her limbs as a three-dimensional indie darling.

Bobby is sleepy and hypnotic; elements that guarantee a hauntingly enjoyable listen.

While not all of the rough edges have been smoothed out, there's a sense of soaring ambition, and there's no reason why there shouldn't be.

Soft hits on some deeply buried emotions (“I left scraps inside of you” on Soft Opening; “If you feel a rusted heart/don’t let them know” on Rusty), but does it with such grace that it’s easy to convince yourself this is an album of all-forgiving love.

A World Out Of Time was recorded as a whole, a distinction that has some subtle effects on the album's sequencing and pacing without diminishing the elements of collage.

Its stargazed, overly ambitious arrangements sometimes become so intricate that they deplete some of the fun. That said, multiple spins produce a mind-numbing experience that echoes the duo’s desired midnight, candlelight aura.

Grimes has come into a cleaner, more distinct version of her IDM self, albeit one still influenced by Aphex Twin, TLC and Enya.

These varied sounds signal a growth in the band, one that will ultimately save the Soft Pack from forever being stuck playing angsty teen music.

The sound is more refined without completely losing what many listeners initially loved about the band: its natural and unstructured approach.

It probably won't rope in many. But for those few who do get it, A Collection Of Rarities will provide a truly uncommon and sometimes jarring glimpse into the evolution of an incredible musical mind.

Smith is a ham, to be sure, but listen past the surface and you'll hear him grappling with themes of isolation, frustration and heartbreak.

Can’t Love is a sonic semblance of moving from a bustling warehouse in gentrifying Brooklyn to wandering around alone on a culdesac in the rust belt and wondering what the next stage is.

While maintaining her space as neither and sexpot diva or a grossly doe-eyed ingenue, Little Boots remains unapologetically sincere in her words, and the crowd will still mainline the disco beats and, save for a few lulls, dance until we die.

Putrifiers II is not the masterpiece TOS fans may have been hoping for. But it is another piece that let's Thee Oh Sees maintain the role of reigning masters.

Polysick displays a nerdish devotion to subtleties, like creating rhythms without beats and overlaying field recordings under a mix.

Foreign Landscapes is a sonic mind-map that finds him dancing across geographical locations by way of his prepared piano (which, in layman's terms, refers to when objects are placed inside the guts of the instrument) and input from San Francisco's 12-piece string and wind Magik*Magik Orchestra.

This doesn’t feel like yet more easy-trash, pool party punk (though it is that, and good at it), but something that has a preternatural songwriting zing and energy not predicated on just the fumbling charm of a stained ’80s metal t-shirt and Ronettes knowledge, but actual, like charm.

Love Sign escapes almost all of the sophomore LP pitfalls.

Time Capsules II is that kind of album: a buffet of familiar confections designed for easy digestion, painstakingly dressed and seasoned to demand repeat consumption.

In his honest debut Id, Chris Laufman, the mind behind the joyous noise-pop project Wise Blood, nobly outlines the neurotic impulses of those of us who don’t have a seat at Miley Cyrus’s lunch table.

Satin Panthers doesn't contain the most organized or most complete 15 minutes of music in the world, but it's an EP-it's just frenzied enough to provide a taste for an album to come. It might not be vital in itself, but there are enough ideas to show that within the mind of Hudson Mohawke, there is much more where this came from.

This EP, while a little inconsistent with the “usual” sound that a club record should have, speaks volumes of the deftness that Halo possesses.

The combination is ethereal and transcendent.

A few listens into Gauntlet Hair and its charms start to coalesce.

The Big Pink has put out an electro-rock album that does not exactly redefine the future of music like the album title may suggest, but it does redefine the Big Pink.

The music is still driven by the same conceptual forces, instrumentation and voodoo tradition that Orchestre Poly-Rythmo has always been known for. Contonou Club is not only a symbol of the group's reunion; it marks the continuation and growth of a West African musical revolution.

Producer Alex Newport (Death Cab For Cutie, Mars Volta) captures a more complete and complex sound with lush acoustics and electric instrumentation that moves the album along, providing a live-show atmosphere recorded and mixed straight to tape.

The band demonstrates its growth from angst-driven punks to thematic artists (although still retaining enough angst) by having developed and refined their musical style, as well as further grasped the emotions that are intertwined within the songs’ depths.

This may not be as exciting as people expected, but it’s detailed, coherent, and worth a spin.

Maybe Khan is excessive in the thought process of his message regarding the world; maybe he is in fact understating the necessity of awareness to the problems our world faces; maybe it’s somewhere in the middle. Regardless, all of us could use a little bit of the soul the King Khan And The Shrines is willing to share on the record.

While the record might have benefited from some more discrimination on the cutting room floor, it's still a focused, complete record and a pleasurable listen.

It's just a little too long and continuous to listen to in one setting.

While the lyrics have always been one of the main highlights of every AJJ album, the ridiculous level of the lyrics on this one might stretch the tolerance of even the most dedicated fans.

The MC attacks his words diligently with rabid vigor, giving Album the forceful push of someone carrying the weight of loved ones lost.

While Fade's sleepy charms can appear slight when compared to the canonical totems in the band's back catalog, it's best to remember that this is a record about serenity, endurance and mortality.

Cave's noisy, dentist-drill guitar work is still prominently featured, but occasionally it takes on pedal-warped psychedelic tones as the songs stretch out beyond the band's typical garage-rock template.

This lack of clear signposts can make navigating the nightmare-laden second half of Dream On a bit more difficult as the sound effects pile up and the tracks get denser.

Many of the songs on Aloha Moon hint at '80s soft rock, with their delicate guitar and drumming, while still providing a contemporary dream-like quality.

With its multiple parts, its recurring motifs and its thematic hutzpah "USA" isn't easy to parse or process, but it's not impenetrable; Deacon remains committed to pop forms and rock songwriting despite his concert-hall inclinations.

This changing of the tide between electric and acoustic makes the album flow. What's evident on Thao And Mirah is the musicality of the duo and the friendship at hand.

Earl’s skills are incontestable, but at times, it feels like he has nothing to prove. Doris could have resulted in one big shrug fest, if it weren’t for the ferocity in Earl’s bars--which is probably all the leverage he needs.

Although it could have ended on a stronger note, it's a fitting conclusion to the pleasant trip through Melody's spacey dreamworld.

Creole's comeback mixes genres, wit and personal history with an amicable charisma that could only be cultivated by the type of guy who wears a zoot suit and a fedora any time after 1943.

While Divine Ecstasy may not satisfy all your experimentally complex tastebuds, it will satisfy some of them, mostly because it does so much.

Not exactly a massage, but a wind-down from the tumult that is Ultima II Massage.

The songs are solid and don’t mess around as much as the show. Though the non-stop, not exactly dancey indulgence groove ride of the whole first half, no pause until six songs in, might nag some.

If you can glaze over the four total minutes that those three aforementioned songs ["I Love You Ugly," "Madness," and "Demon From Hell"] occupy, what’s left is an all-around good time.

The album jumps all over the place, showing little interest in staying true to a single genre or style, but even in the darker, heavier moments these songs are unified by an urge to please and the untamable desire to move onto the next thing as soon as possible.

Indie Cindy delivers a relatively gratifying 12 track-journey that, at the least, yields some classic-sounding Pixies tunes.

The duo is quite adept at keeping the dopey momentum going, but without a respite or a break in the haze, Return To The Ugly Side is often impenetrable. But that's kind of cool--a half-hour album that stretches out (or drags on) to feel like far longer.

By not exerting himself, Hynes manages to craft an easy-to-listen, easy-to-enjoy album that will be spun as a change of pace.

Attention Please could not be further away from Heavy Rocks. The album is characterized by elegant violin, delicate vocals and dreamy guitar distortion.

But because of its uneven idiosyncrasies and its cheeky self-flagellation, At Best Cuckhold sounds like Avi Buffalo’s coming of age story.

The recording quality is smart and sophisticated, and the overall feel of Our Nature is much richer-sounding than on In The Wooded Forest.

Piñata might be long, but it moves fast.

Though her lyrics are incoherent, Barwick tells a story on this album that is up for interpretation depending on the listener as if Barwick created the music just for her.

As its title implies, the record is full of a dynamism that sometimes sets it apart from others out there, and will undoubtedly show listeners a good time.

Like any good exorcism, Year Of The Witch allows Ryff to share and shed what's haunting him.

Boris channels the heart of heavy metal music with a massive sound and unparalleled aggressiveness.

Pure X may not be particularly pure anymore, but it’s a pleasure to have them down in the muck with the rest of us.

They make albums that make you squint and stare at the floor and convince yourself you like it, maybe. And somehow, you’ll find yourself listening until you’re sure you do.

They’ve tossed a simple, solid album in our lap, thrown up the deuce and strolled out the door, take it or leave it.

Clash Battle Guilt Pride sees Polar Bear Club's likable mix of working-class suburban punk and arena rock getting glossier production.

There aren’t any bad songs here, but ultimately Bazaar comes off more like a compilation album of great tracks than a carefully edited album.

On the album as a whole, the guitar riffs are what stand out the most from the thrashing drums and growling vocals.

The songs on Champions might not add up to the best record proper, but those guys in front of the stage probably could care less. They've got some more fuel for the party, and at the end of the day, that's all that really matters.

Sure, Lennox makes a lot of pretty noise on this album, but sometimes you just want to pluck him from his own sound waves and have him try to navigate them from the inside of a more firmly constructed ship.

Midway through Heavy Mood, Tilly hits a lull; "Hey Rainbow" and "I Believe In You" just don't pack the eclectic Tilly punch.... The pace picks back up with aggressively positive ender "Defenders."