Superwolf contains some of [Oldham's] most startling work yet.

There’s a Dream I’ve Been Saving is an engrossing 107 song compilation of weird artistry that panders to all the trends of its era, that being 1966-1971.

This record is a wonderful accomplishment – instead of relying on tricks and methods explored on earlier records, Herren expands via reflection, tracing sounds back to their roots in hopes of finding a new path.

While a lot of their peers have attempted (unsuccessfully, mostly) to beat down the doors of California's psychedelic myth, Sic Alps have taken their time and found their own way there; in doing so they've created one of the best records of the year.

Parker gets plenty of cred for the production acumen he has exercised with Tortoise and the New Breed; his work with the ETA IVtet affirms his mastery of making music that feels and is felt in real time.

Loud, large and unrelenting, Hate is stunning, orchestral pop.

Their most accomplished and astounding album to date.

Deerhunter has come into its own, and the halcyon result is not to be missed.

It’s an arresting record that doesn’t pull strings or elide with gimmicks, nor does it preach or try to persuade. You needn’t believe in a higher order to realize that Seven Swans is an expression of something stirring, something beautiful.

Almost classically psychedelic at times, with the overdriven saturation of too much light, motion and volume applied to every aspect of the music, this ensemble... represents the best of gritty, pre-funk groove music, Day-Glo popcorn cooking in gasoline, rattling like a machine gun.

He sacrifices none of his newfound momentum on the fantastic Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!, his sharpest, wittiest, most resolute album in over a decade.

If the first third of the record was maybe a modernized version of County Records, and the middle third was Windham Hill, the final third is decidedly ECM territory, fusion with a folk twist, because that fingerstyle mastery is omnipresent. Hearing Williams’ fuzzed out lead on “Dream Lake” will send chills down your spine, it is completely inspirational musicianship.

Their pithy discography--a kind of ur-record of indie-pop, ripped off knowingly and unknowingly--is part of their magic.

There’s no question that Y is an essential, classic album, but it’s also a unique one in that it is both chaotic and robust enough to be very open to reinterpretation in the right hands. Bovell clearly qualifies, and the result is a companion album that can serve as a through-the-looking-glass partner to the original, easily able to stand on its own.

A schizophrenic palate of honeyed soul, downbeat electrix, timeless hip hop and bare-knuckle beats, these 31 tracks (spread over 44 minutes) are packed with triple the hooks – and suffer from attention deficit disorder (to the listener’s benefit).

One Beat joins the likes of Fugazi's In On the Killtaker and Bikini Kill's Reject All American for its impassioned new-world resistance, and could very well be the greatest triumph of punk independence since Black Flag.

A stunning collection of unpredictability that has to stand among the best pop albums of 2003.

The breadth of imagination, experimentation and diversity on display across these four sides of vinyl is nearly unparalleled in modern non-compositional music... With this record, Dilloway secures his place as one of the great solo figures of modern noise.

Tru is a juggernaut, wreaking Mascis-style mayhem with a bubblegum heart.

Absolute Dissent reaches a few new peaks, no doubt. The band is still challenging itself, much like art punk peers Wire, The Fall and Nick Cave have in the past decade.

It’s a majestic, often breathtaking collection of some of the most important electronic music of its time, where Voigt managed the seemingly impossible task of bringing the forest to the disco, or vice versa.

There’s no question that Where You Go I Go Too is one of the year’s most coherent, craftily executed albums.

Granted, there will be some that cling to the lo-fi eccentricities of that debut, but while Oh Me Oh My... may have won him heaps of critical praise, Rejoicing in the Hands is the album that backs it all up.

Once again, the band demonstrates mastery both of crafting hooks and building compelling long form pieces.

The doomed romance, the ragged heartful-ness, the underlying shimmer of cleverness, that’s one element that makes Lenderman’s fourth full-length studio album so special. The other is the wrecking ball arrangements, that turn loose squalls of feedback addled electric guitar amid hazy swoons of strings. .... It never feels like Lenderman is trying to[o] hard. It’s like it’s all natural, all heartfelt, all direct from him to you, except it’s not. It’s more interesting than that.

Beirut’s brilliant debut album is full of grandeur and intimacy, with accordions, ukuleles and brass instruments complementing contemporary notions like drum machines and digestible song structures while simultaneously channeling the ancient appeal of Balkan folk music.

The Unicorns manage to polish an array of pawn shop instruments into miniature masterpieces.

A lot of what's contained on this disc reaches for the transcendent and often attains that lofty goal. Even when it doesn't, though, it's still very much worth the listen.