File this one alongside Fabulous Muscles, Angel Guts: Red Classroom and Forget as one of Xiu Xiu’s most gratifying albums.

Have We Met is Destroyer at its inscrutable, poetic best, its elegance poised on a rip-tide of violence.

It's some of his best work, but it's done with the gimmick of relying solely on the ARP 2600 analog synthesizer.

Despite some rather simple melodies (and even simpler lyrics), or maybe even because of them, I’m Terry hits the mark.

It doesn’t take long for the characters to come alive the way ...Is a Woman’s seemed too exhausted to. [combined review of both discs]

Front-to-back, Real Life Is No Cool does exactly what it set out to do and no more: be a collection of dance pop tunes so solid it feels like they’ve always been there.

Return to the Sea reins in its eccentricities successfully enough to illustrate that the most understated risks can be the most rewarding.

Mirror Traffic arrests those indulgences and presents Pavement fans the best opportunity yet to stop worrying and love The Jicks.

Anjimile has come a long way since the last album, but you sense a journey still in progress, an evolution still finding its own best shape.

While Cedars probably won’t appeal to listeners not already immersed in the Britpop canon; it will likely prove rather impressive to those who are.

In theory, there may be nothing wrong with a desire for mainstream acceptance, but Cantrell’s music suffers for it.

They’ve created one of the most haunting and terrifying metal albums since the legendary Khanate broke up.

The result is still identifiably Benoît Pioulard, but richer, deeper, stranger.

A lighter listen, enjoyable, but without the depth and drama that marks Tyler’s better work.

These Audion recordings thrive on nervous energy, sounding like the twitchy mumblings of a speed freak at their most hyperactive.

If April demonstrates Kozelek’s predilection for reaching backwards, in places it also finds him broadening his range.

He doesn't quite sell the thesis that that's the point.

Musically it feels like business as usual, but there’s a spark missing, as if the events of the last few years have pummelled the life out of the band, resulting in a frustratingly uneven record.

Perennial is an easy-flowing new collection of songs, including a number of dynamic instrumentals, which showcase the chemistry among the players.

There’s not a lot of sand or struggle in these tracks. The vocals never crack. The orchestra never misses a note. .... Only the late album cut “Rust and Steel” has much of a growl in it, and, no coincidence, it’s the track that hits hardest and stays longest. .... It reminds you that even the slickest quiet storm soul needs some fire in it. How about some more of that next time?

Emmaar’s reassuring familiarity in the face of the forces of war and commerce is at once reassuring and a bit concerning. On the one hand, it’s great to see that the group remains incorruptible and in touch with its essence; on the other, a bit of buffing and shining aside, if you know the band’s sound, you already know this record.

The production jars mainly on the opener, "Snakes For the Divine" - Pike's leads sound wankier, and Kensel's drums flatter and softer, than one might want. But overall, Fidelman's work doesn't obtrude too badly.

The familiarity of their sound and the ordinariness of their suburban laments do not breed contempt. They know how it is, and so do we, and we’re all in it together for as long as the record lasts. The Feelies may tell small tales and play like they’re living in them, but it all rings true.

Lacking a clear story arc or point of catharsis, Kill for Love drifts off into its own gorgeous gloom.

It arguably represents some of the sharpest, strongest songwriting of Hersh’s post-Throwing Muses solo career and perhaps some of her best work, period.

Music for the Age of Miracles is rather beautifully arranged by MacLean and long-time drummer Mark Keen, scored by Chris Taylor with the strings and brass conducted by Anthony Harmer.

With experimentation comes occasional failure, however, and at times Since Last We Spoke can feel a bit forced.

Rock that soothes and sears at once is a rare thing, and Heron Oblivion has made a whole album that makes the contradictions feel like an ancient tradition.