Baby Teeth's gentle delivery and textured production creates a world in which listeners have an opportunity for reflection, situating their own experiences within the band's storytelling.

There are few surprises in Roosevelt's brand of dance music, but that seems decidedly the point; the synapses it triggers feel like the most welcomingly comfortable sort of sparks, firing on familiar-but-welcome cylinders.

Sore feels like the culmination of something that's been bubbling under in the city, the perfect marriage of pop craftsmanship and violent anger.

It's her relentless musical alchemy that anchors the album, which finally finds Rose being herself, rather than attempting to sound like someone else.

Black Moth Super Rainbow's fifth release may not be their most resourceful work to date, but it's undoubtedly their most sublime.

There is a catchiness to the song structures that occasionally brushes against an industrial influence.

Social Cues not an overly adventurous record, but it's the sound of a band who know their niche in contemporary alternative rock and how to deliver every time.

While Until In Excess lacks a genuine revelatory moment, it's their most overall consistent and accessible album thus far.

This year's Club Nites is more approachable than last year's Seeing Green, but that doesn't make it any less loose and unfettered.

The record succeeds when the band give into the temptation of pleasing their crowd with ramshackle tracks that will work well in a live setting.

While still an immensely enjoyable record, coming from someone who never shied away from mixing it up, it's hard not to walk away from the last song thinking, "Has Tillman lost his nerve?"

Content Nausea reasserts Parkay Quarts as talented musicians able to deliver successive releases that are far more accomplished than many other big label garage-rock albums.

Ciani and Smith's exploitation of the Buchla's possibilities is exemplary, and worth looking into for fans of ambient or experimental music.

This EP is more sketchbook than fully realized piece of art, a placeholder between full-lengths designed to keep the band in the cultural conversation.

WAX is filled to the brim with equal parts sing-along sensibility and raspy vibrato--with a style and sound akin to late '90s Chantal Kreviazuk.

An original record blending beauty and brutality.

While the project does have a mixtape feel to it as opposed to an album, it delivers a lot of heat.

While it can be hard not to yearn for more massive and cathartic songs like "Reflection," Light We Made is still a quality effort, even if it's an adjustment.

Due to the first half's measly runtime (half of its high octane songs clock in at under three minutes) and heavy as hell ending, listening to Clone of the Universe kind of feels like visiting a tapas bar with a few friends, only to drunkenly venture off at the end of the night to slam down a whole duck, solo (and no, that's not a euphemism): it's a journey most would avoid making, but a compelling one for those willing to roll the dice and ride.

While the album could be described as moody, and there certainly are dramatic shifts in mood throughout, there is also always the feeling of sunny skies above. The music conjures up the grit of the beach, the flow of the ocean, and the hot concrete below the unrelenting sun of the Pacific coast.

Fans of We Are Scientists will appreciate the new direction in crafting a new upbeat dynamic sound, and for new listeners, Megaplex is the perfect introduction to one of the band's most notable releases to date.

Waiting Game is a smooth and smart shift for an outfit that was doing just fine prior but could stand to switch it up. Whether soft reset or brief respite, it's definitely Junior Boys' most tasteful and interesting album.

One wonders what could have happened if Moroder explored a little more, rather than playing it safe.

Erikson falls in-line with dreamy progressives like Caribou and Four Tet, generating ten new compositions that sound as beautiful as they do bouncy.

Ruminations isn't exactly a stunner--it's too low-key for that--but as a humble mood-piece, it's an engrossing listen. Its best moments are also its darkest ones.

The album is not without its bright spots, as much of the Brooklyn duo's soundscapes waver somewhere between engaging and downright daring.

From the Vaults is a collection of b-sides presented and packaged as a full-blown studio release, and it's worth the effort.

Few would mistake White Stuff for golden age Royal Trux--the vocals are more subdued, the songwriting is more straightforward, and anyone looking for something as confrontational as "The Banana Question" won't find it here. But hearing Hagerty and Herrema stay true to their ethos after 30-plus years offers its own satisfactions. Consider the comeback complete.