It's on these longer, wide-angle tracks that the album really shines, and fans who thought the stricter pop playbook Gonzalez has been using recently was perhaps too strict should find much to like in these more open-ended pieces. For the rest of us, DSVII should prove a likable enough diversion until the next standard studio release.

Exo would appeal to fans of the aforementioned Amon Tobin and, at times, Exo is also evocative of Plaid, or even Aphex Twin in the midst of his most acidy madness.

To call Shout! a mixed bag is redundant, as being able to assemble your favourite version of the album is part of its intrinsic appeal and quite possibly a way for non-Mule fans to get introduced to their wide-reaching approach.

King's Mouth is a light album, one that — in its best moments — ties the fantasy of its central conceit to a studied sense of reality

On Treasure House, Cat's Eyes continue to forge a unique path, as Badwan and Zeffira blend the old with the new, pop with classical and melancholy with drive.

At its best it's far closer to the sort of comeback album that reminds listeners why they loved the music in the first place, instead of the hollow nostalgia of past glories.

On first glance one might mistake it for a kind of "playing the hits" trick that many artists rely on as they revisit their origins. But digging in, Time Is Glass feels more like a progression of ease — 20 years on, Chasny is able to reach the astral plane the way most reach for a light switch.

There are some great tracks--a standout being gorgeous opener "Don't Wake Me Up"--but, at times, it veers a bit too far into the saccharine, with the playing, unlike the singing, lacking a bit of soul.

It's questionable whether Chvrches' sound can survive and stretch any further for future material, but for the time being, The Bones of What You Believe is an impressive slate of sonic pleasures from a young band still experimenting with a room full of synths.

[An] engaging Sold Out.

The Portland pair embrace vitality and exploration, but their polarized approach to psychedelia overcompensates at times.

Poppy Ackroyd chooses to move at a efficiently percussive pace throughout (best highlighted by the fertile and aptly-named "Time"), giving the album a post-modern atmosphere rarely explored on many classical-inspired albums, making Resolve an album hard to pin down and hard to categorize, but easy to adore.

It's certainly not the culture-shifting force that The Fame or Born This Way were, but it does recapture some of that former glory after some years where Gaga's biggest contributions have been blockbuster soundtrack ballads.

Between appealing beats and this discomfiting tone, Silver Eye sits in a middle zone--and while it could give listeners some better-defined emotional content behind the android-y veneer, it's by no means borin

While its 'realness' likely won't win Roc too many new fans, it's sure to satisfy those down with the brand, and fans of that underground aesthetic he's become known for.

On V, the Budos Band give fans a new, granite dimension to their craft, while keeping things head-bobbingly and anthemically familiar.

The Pool feels a tad disconnected to qualify as one of the year's major releases. There's a kind of connective tissue missing; the groove is there, but it lacks flow.

The trio's intent is crystal clear here: make hypnotic murder rap that evokes a screwface and head-nod. If horror movies aren't your thing, though, Without Warning might not be the rap project for you.

The 47 minutes diced into 17 tracks that consitute Breakthrough demonstrate what Gaslamp Killer is capable of.

Stylistically, White may be a one-trick alligator, but it's a damn pleasing one.

It's not game changing, but Saigon's fanbase will love it, and sometimes it's better to stick with what you know.

The whole collection works to move beyond predictable conclusions though, and as a result, each listen holds a new discovery.

With 12 tracks and a run time of just 30 minutes, much of Tobacco's fourth solo LP almost sounds incomplete at times, but Fec somehow makes it work to his advantage.

The album peaks when Cyrus finally delivers retro rock-inspired collaborations with both Billy Idol and Joan Jett. These two champions of 1980s rock bring some grit to the album, taking Cyrus into the heavier direction she's been teasing for years.

The highs on How to Socialise are meteoric while the relative lows are kept afloat by its members' musical prowess and McDonald's ability to wring tension and drama from personal adversity. Far from the stand-offish listen its sarcastic title suggests, expect the album to win Camp Cope plenty of new friends and admirers alike.

It ends with a breakdown and is littered with weighty riffs. However, these aren't forced or the focus of the band's sound, instead complementing the incredibly polished rock.

The band have never been run of the mill, and their latest is no exception--it's definitely interesting. And really, that's Pussy's Dead's greatest strength: a fearless sense that evolution always trumps repeating yourself.

Fun and compelling as such high points can be, nothing on this album reaches the strata of the title track.