On the whole, there is a lack of connection that makes it hard to qualify Synthetica as an entirely memorable album.

The evolution is slight but impressive, and worth taking note of.

Kweli blends a gritty outlook with a genuine interest in social issues to create an album that sounds refreshingly idealistic in a world still reeling from Kanye West's bombastic record.

Although Joke In The Hole is an enjoyable listen, it’s by no means an easy one.

The overall feeling of the record is dark, but tracks like "Hector" and "Blank Maps" offer a bit of light.

This album has the potential to appeal to imaginative listeners with a wide range of tastes.

Their lyrics of heartbreak, being pissed off and the eventual willingness to admit when they make mistakes has made us feel all the while, they’ve just gotten better at saying it.

Zoo is a bleak record, but through prolonged exposure it can begin to feel like a place you want to stay.

With Love is by no means a terrible album, but the bar that Dedication set was in no way reached. It’s worth giving a listen, but be prepared to edit it into a condensed and sensical format.

The simplicity of the instrumentation is what perfects the record.

If you're not paying attention, it becomes tough to tell if you've been listening to one really long song or three separate ones.

Under Streetlight Glow is a collection of intimate songs written by Spencer during film school when she aspired to place her music in her film projects.

While some longtime fans may find Just To Feel Anything's retreat from the cosmos a disappointment, the album's relative conceptual restraint actually allows it to be even more emotionally accessible, inviting the listener into the trio's interstellar clubhouse instead of only letting us peak in from the outside.

Rosebuds have a smooth, beyond approachable, ear-massaging loveliness, this time honed with a production clarity of near Steely Dan-like proportions, if on an indie level. Instrumentation remains fairly minimal, delicately played and mixed to perfection.

When you give it [a] chance, this album blooms into something different, deeper and more resonant that, along with its musicality, should be appreciated for its originality and growth.

Despite a new sense of freedom, Ebert carefully crafts the album to keep a good balance between a full sound layered with an array of instruments and vocals to simpler textures that showcase just one element of the music.

Still branded with his punchy, pop-punk melodies, as well as venturing back to the fuzzier roots in several instances, the real issue with Afraid Of Heights is a lack of constraint.

The album lacks one basic fundamental of general pop music: lyrical hooks. The primary reason why they’re lacking though is because Wasner’s voice blends so well with Ehrens’ synth hooks that she is at times barely distinguishable from them.

The songs feel like the first days of fall, where you're clinging to that last bit of summer warmth while eagerly anticipating the slower pace of a city being cooled.

The lift isn't too high, but the album isn't meant to be a mood elevator. Instead, Pleasure gives you the smoke and confusion that is left when all extrinsic distractions are removed.

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.

Oak Island is an album that gets weirder and more confident as it goes along, slowing down and stretching out as it comes to a close.

It’s a cracked, smart and surprisingly powerful album, you just have to listen a bit closer than usual to hear what it’s trying to say.

This is a solid half-hour of garage-y indie rock that is usually catchy, occasionally great, and pretty much always competent.

This urgent need to resist easy classifications can make the album difficult and obtuse at times, but the rewards are plentiful.

It may have taken three years for Go! Pop! Bang! to see the light, but fortunately, in Rye Rye's case, she has only gotten better with age.

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

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.