There are quick movements at play, but the locomotion is sort of listless.

What makes C'est ça such a triumphant return for the band lies in just how damn listenable Fly Pan Am make it all come off, giving fans something much more adventurous and challenging than simple nostalgia would ever allow.

Even when an experiment fails, it does so in intriguing and unpredictable ways.

For fans that saw the culmination of his artistic prowess in Gliss Riffer, Mystic Familiar will fulfill many of the same needs, but with even greater balance in execution.

While Home lacks the consistency of previous records, it makes a strong case for Rhye as a pop star waiting in the wings, à la the Weeknd, thanks to a voice versatile enough to complement any instrumental choice. Four albums in, Rhye has finally begun to branch out, and not a moment too soon.

Like eggnog, it's excellent in December but probably a little nauseating come January.

With their latest release, Depeche Mode prove they have both the musical depth and strength of conviction to outlast us all.

For Tweedy diehards, these intimate reworks may come off as a nice fireside chat with an old friend, but those less familiar with the singer are better off starting with the originals.

With ten ridiculously infectious songs clocking in at just 22 minutes, Joanna Gruesome are in no danger of wearing out their welcome.

Inner Fire further cements the Souljazz Orchestra in a class of their own on the world music circuit.

This isn't poppier than anything they've done over the past decade or so, but few individual songs stick out like good pop songs should.

Righteous indignation has long fuelled OFF!, but Wasted Years is the band at their darkest and most venomous.

With The Parallax II: Future Sequence, Between the Buried and Me have managed to craft metal that's not just for metal heads, but will excite them just the same.

Yes, on the surface Feels Like Home is a makeover aimed at the parents of every Taylor Swift fan, but the essence of Crow's sound remains intact, and irresistible.

The Shakes is nonetheless brimming with alien sounds and left-field rhythms (culled from objects purchased on eBay), proving that even the most subdued Herbert release is still pretty damn fascinating.

If Whine of the Mystic was the boozy night out, Thought Rock Fish Scale feels like the groggy hangover. It doesn't hurt, but its lethargic haze makes you wish it were still last night.

While casual listeners may find this humour flippant, given the topics explored on Miami Memory, closer listens reveal a mature and surprisingly au courant album that grapples with complex social issues in a commendably fearless way.

On paper this is a solid album, and Plaid have pushed all the right buttons, but they've pushed those same buttons many times before.

It's frankly still a pleasure to hear Lindstrøm masterfully keep everything in check, but there's a distinct lack of the full-throttle joyousness that he's capable of. If it was his intentional choice to temper that instinct, it was sadly misjudged.

Beauty Behind the Madness proves that the Weeknd can thrive in the mainstream, and while the lyrics aren't overtly profound, he's proven that he is more versatile than previously thought, which is perhaps of greater importance at this stage in his career.

With this hugely energetic disc, consisting of eight tunes in 32 minutes, Early Graves have proven that they can survive a horrible catastrophe and continue to make great music.

The Behind the Green Door EP contains some of the most comfortably weird grooves we've heard from Laurel Halo.

There isn't a bad track here, and from the sound of Ibibio Sound Machine, it appears that Soundway is intent on delivering new music every bit as distinguished as its esteemed reissues.

Luneworks is not a lulling listen; rather, the album seems to turn restlessly with sonic insomnia, the songs tracing the arc of some sleepless passage like a night plagued by intense longing.

Spooky Action is an incredibly simple record that's rescued by a primal energy and emotional output that artists half Loewenstein's age wished they possessed.

Sixteen Oceans is a sign of Hebden settling into his well-trodden niche. Occasionally, one can wish for the unbridled eclecticism of his earlier days, but that doesn't seem to be of any concern for an artist who is in complete contentment of his place in the musical world.

The music slides along with a relationship to various genres that is curious and sincere while not making a firm commitment to any one, and with a depth and complexity that underlies the gentle waves on the surface.

Say What? is hardly DOOM's definitive work, but it gives us one last snapshot of a solitary mind that spurted in wonderfully volatile ways.