The band members proving that they are lifers at this kind of punk provocation.

While not as album-oriented as their past efforts have been, Fashion Week functions well as a beat tape through the diverse range of influences that Hill and producer Andy "Flatlander" Morin and have chosen to explore.

That's part of what makes Sorry 2 so much fun: it's inconsistent, flailing and completely unpredictable.

The four tracks here also represent a promising step forward for Segall, showing off a succinct amalgamation of the different sounds he has played with on recent albums.

Despite that fact that this music is now two decades old, it doesn't sound at all dated.

It's the type of album that shifts with every listen, making you discover unknown corners of certain songs, with nary a lowlight or highlight in sight.

It's an interesting concept for an album, but it falls a bit flat.

Tejada's Signs Under Test comes across differently--there is a timeless quality to the album, one that suggests it will still be as relevant and appreciated long after many of its contemporaries have faded away.

As a listening experience in and of itself, Messier Objects offers very little to stimulate or engage and will likely only resonate with the most diehard among the Notwist's fan base.

This is a gorgeous album.

While mere scribblings from a musical genius can often still trump the best efforts of many, this is not the case here.

Take It Like A Man is a disjointed affair with a slippery identity.

Roberts' characteristic style is Scottish without cliché, and his marriage of old and new stands out in an oversaturated, strummy-guitar field of singer-songwriters as a gorgeous album from beginning to end.

Big Dark Love has big, dark secrets hidden away in its seams that call out for repeated listens until you can draw them into the light.

This hodgepodge of ideas, irregular pacing and abrupt transitions are oddly compelling; though it can be tough to make it to the end of the hour-long work, Elverum makes it worth it.

Alpha is the brighter and longer disc of the two, varied in its execution by walking a line between challenging, progressive moments and more accessible fare.

The heavily distorted, fuzzy wall of sound from previous albums has been replaced by lead guitar jangle here, but while that may seem off-putting to fans who are accustomed to the relentless punk bludgeoning of their previous material, at its core the songwriting is solid, and familiar enough for old fans to learn to love.

Though the occasional use of spoken word on the record jars uncomfortably, this debut is about as accomplished as one could reasonably expect.

It's a brand new soundtrack that doesn't require a film. Carpenter knows exactly how to appease his fans, and with Lost Themes, he has given them just what they want.

With We Are Undone, Two Gallants have created an album that is enviable in its quality and consistency.

Since this is Tanya Tagaq, no moment of the album feels excessive or perfunctory, making Animism one of the most challenging and listenable albums of the year.

Teaspoon To The Ocean's all-encompassing aura takes you through Craig's master class of dream exploration fairly quickly, but even in the midst of all the trippy goodness, his thoughtful testaments manage to shine through track to track, giving poignant, detailed expression to the anxiety that plagues his deepest thoughts.

The problem is that Earle's melancholy has taken primacy over his songwriting, which is uncharacteristically generic here, making this subdued and plodding release a career low.

During those carefree, unfussy peaks, Silk Rhodes sounds less like a retread and more like soul's next step forward.

Though the album lacks a unifying aesthetic, and a couple of pieces have a slight "interlude" quality, the strongest elements highlight Lipstate's unwillingness to place definitions or limitations on her music.

The narrative isn't particularly groundbreaking; it tells the story of escaping a bad relationship, falling in love with someone else and then torpedoing it with his libido. Ne-Yo's MJ-indebted falsetto does deliver some highlights on the album.

Vulnicura is a well-crafted antithesis musically and thematically, resulting in the most compelling effort she has put forth in years.

This is yet another great Punch Brothers album.

Man it Feels like Space Again stands apart both from their influences and from that other Perth group. That it also happens to be their best album is just a bonus.

Pratt's succinct lines can spill out so naturally and conversationally it's hard to believe someone wrote them, except that she messes with the syntax a little, too.

Natalie Prass is a beautiful record that does best when it prods the sweet ache of failed romance.

For now, the band seem content to maintain the status quo and refine the elements that made them so appealing in the first place.

The Planet works more than well enough as its own insular world, and is hopefully but a taste of more to come.

Their traditional characteristics and intellectual concepts, incorporated with new elements and ideas, make Apex Predator - Easy Meat another impressive addition to Napalm Death's spotless catalogue.

Although not as strong as Visiter, Individ comes off as a spiritual partner to their 2008 breakthrough, showing the duo working quite well in comfortable surroundings.

Dahlia's a talented artist, but though the album aims high, it runs out of steam landing in the realm of just okay.

While the Go-Betweens may not be as well known to music fans as the Cure, R.E.M. or the Smiths, this lovingly curated box makes a convincing case that they are more than deserving of being on any list of the greatest rock bands of the 1980s or any other decade.

Fall Out Boy have honed in on an arena-rattling brand of pop that is different for sure, but likeable nonetheless.

Whether that is especially important to Calder is another thing entirely, but regardless, Strange Dreams is an enviable platform for any musician to vault from.

With each song finely crafted and composed, Nervous is an exploration of sonic tension that ultimately wrings beauty from an undesirable situation.

Despite a few kinks and unnecessary tracks, B4.Da.$$ is a great album that revisits classic '90s boom-bap signifiers: the production, the delivery and cadences.

It's these frenzied, sharp-turn transitions are what make this band feel so vital, so alive and so different.

There's not enough space here to get into why Sleater-Kinney may be one of the most important bands of 2015, but one thing is clear: they've already delivered a serious contender for one of the year's best records.

The Pale Emperor is downright ambitious when it wants to be and lazy when it can get away with it.

Though it's far from perfect--the Balkan folk-inspired "The Everlasting Muse" and lounge-y "Perfect Couples" weigh the back half down just a little--Girls in Peacetime Want to Dance is a statement record that Belle and Sebastian are still expert songwriters, with more than a few musical cards left to play.

This is Snapchat-raised turn-up music, trendy and self-actualizing through its references to memes that come quick as they go.

Uptown Special is unapologetic in revelling in its musical influences and ultimately represents a light and mainstream-friendly primer to funk and soul.

On Nights in the Dark, California X are comfortable in their own skin and playing at the peak of their powers, but the album would have fared best as a pared down EP nonetheless.

With Reality Show, Sullivan delivers an R&B album that feels like how R&B used to sound circa late 90's/early 2000 while still coming off as forward-looking.

Aside from this titanic single, Club Meds is an album of subtle pleasures that's more likely to creep under your skin than hit you over the head.

By immersing himself even deeper into the world of dub music and its equally minimalist and maximalist tones and tropes, Grim Reaper sounds stronger than anything he's accomplished so far.

Though incomplete (those final Cale sessions are an important hole) presenting them as a whole paints a fuller picture of one of the most important bands of the rock era, and forces listeners to at least briefly reimagine one of their favourite records as a wholly different beast.

Within its niche, it satisfies, but Homeboy Sandman's irrefutable skill level and work ethic deserves a bigger spotlight.

The result is one of 2014's tightest releases.

It is masterful, it is heartening and it represents today's best from an R&B/soul perspective.

Nicki is more personal, more timeless and more connected to her own artistry here, serving some of the most superlative work of her established career on The Pinkprint.

More than a dozen collaborators--including Ariel Pink, Ariel Rechtshaid and Vampire Weekend's Rostam Batmanglij--helped realize these 14 tracks, but their voices never overshadow Aitchison, who is finally given the spotlight she's rightfully earned.

While Sings Christmas Carols could provide any miserable person some relief at Christmastime, it also works nicely for anyone who loves these songs to hear someone other than Michael Bublé or Justin Bieber sing them.

While the first half of Power Of Anonymity subtly effaces any semblance of her live sets, the bottom half thankfully picks up the pace and salvages what could have been a very straightforward, if not dull, dance floor-aimed release.

He shines without any features, standing strong in his delivery and carrying his story to the forefront of the 13-track project.

Although his lyrics are as benign as ever, much of the music here doesn't just rehash what was good about the band's salad days, but bravely presents Corgan as an artist trying to stage one of the most unexpected comebacks in recent history.

This is energetic and essential listening.

A Hound at the Hem has the chance to gain the fervent cult following deserving of its hypnotizing layers of analog bass, fuzz bomb riffs, pensive organs, soaring strings, nostalgic harpsichords and a creepy lyrics.

Without ever being outshone nor outright stealing the show, Ghostface does some of his best rapping in recent years and proves he's still got it.

This is an album that's holiday-ready: safe, inoffensive, pretty grandma music.

Mr. Mitch goes full experimental, recalling the work of similarly minded artists such as Evian Christ and Shabazz Palaces, albeit in a more muted way.

The tracks are far from filler; they're a revealing look at where the band find themselves creatively at the moment.

As a whole, the album solidifies King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard as a truly ambitious band who balance classic songwriting with wild experimentation.

As an experiment in open source sharing, j US t misses the mark; instead, Faust have left the listener with an oddly listenable LP.

A Better Tomorrow never really coalesces into a satisfying whole.

Rather than phoning in the record fans expect, AC/DC made one that suits their own needs.

The London Sessions has a swanky premise, and finds Blige in an artistically intrepid mode. It's also one of her best efforts in recent years.

There's literally no other band that could handle this heady material with such confidence and ease, and Rhyton sound like they love every second of it.

The sparse "Phone Tap" tells a tale of drug dealing paranoia, while the Big K.R.I.T.-assisted "Brimstone" is a remorseful hymnal. These moments are still few and far between, and the rest of Ross' tales of pushing fall short of revealing whether his ascent to boss status is factual or purely fictional.

For the Shady diehard fans, Shady XV is enough. But for those searching for that nostalgic surge of adrenaline-inducing passion and innovative content reminiscent of the Shady reign, it's better to skip the new material and head straight to the classics.

While most of these tunes have been floating around the Internet for the past few years, it's still nice to hear them on an LP that functions as a cohesive record, even if it wasn't designed that way.

Over the course of 11 impeccable tracks, Amos delivers eerily infectious singer-songwriter fare on par with the intelligent and emotionally raw efforts of Nina Nastasia and Sun Kil Moon, but that's polished with studio savvy worthy of Califone or even mid-period Modest Mouse.

It's headphone music for sure, optimally experienced on a slow train with a glass roof so the record's atmospheric elements can aptly complement the passing stars.

Though it feels relatively safe stylistically, Archives is a very much a welcome closer to Stewart's Vapor City vision.

The short, sweet The Way packs enough pop-tinged punk energy and emotion to satisfy Buzzcocks faithful, at least.

Aoki initially carved a niche with this sound, but we have to wonder when a progression from the safety of this oversaturated market will eventually occur.

First Demo is the closest thing to a new release that we're probably ever going to get. It's also the most interesting insight into the band since the Steve Albini demos for In On The Kill Taker leaked.

It is as brilliant. What Faith in Strangers does do is confirm Stott's position as one of the most stirring and explorative producers going.

Banks has managed to pull off a minor miracle, as Broke With Expensive Taste is an artistic success as well as a strategic one.

Still Life is a slick, full-bodied collection that shows that Morby has lots of sonic ideas, most of which are great.

The first half or so of pom pom proves Ariel Pink is still a pretty formidable songwriter.... From there, the structure seemingly breaks away, as Pink indulges in further left-field whims that are often more novel than gratifying.

It's a rare record that serves as an entry point for newcomers while rewarding old fans who've stuck by them since the beginning.

The thing is, despite the strength of the band (which also includes bassist Todd Sickafoose and guest Ivan Neville), much of the 12-song album feels like filler.

For both Bedhead fans and casual record collectors, Bedhead 1992-1998 is a fascinating (and comprehensive) look into one of indie rock's great forgotten acts.

Antemasque isn't quite the return to form that fans of ATDI and Mars Volta might be expecting. As far as fresh starts go, however, it's a promising one.

Pink Floyd's final farewell doesn't deliver anything particularly unfamiliar to those acquainted with the Gilmour years. However, The Endless River serves its purpose as well as a collection of unreleased material can--it remembers an integral band member while reflecting on past glories in a reserved, respectable fashion.

Hell Can Wait succeeds as a reintroduction of sorts, showing Staples as a more focused and forward-moving artist who will surely outlive "them red roses."

Let's Cry and Do Pushups at the Same Time seems to be Wyatt's way of reconciling his vast repertoire of influences and his many interests into one concise package, and on that idea alone, the album is a success.

If All In My Head is a stepping-stone in their sound, there's something great on the horizon from Seaway.

Dream Police take an expert background in far noisier music and strip it down to its bones, offering something that is simultaneously intense and easy on the ears.

It's obvious for his fans he's making the music he's set out to create and when he's taken strategic measures to please the mainstream. But luckily for his avid listeners, K.R.I.T. almost entirely does the former here, upholding the funky, southern-psychedelic rap that his fans turn to him for.

Sonic Highways is an attempt to channel a different musical energy, but it's one that Grohl does a far better job capturing with his camera crew.

Stalley showcases eclectic strengths on this release, but focus certainly isn't one of them.