I Predict a Graceful Expulsion is not the great record some would have you believe it is, but it is a very good one.

The songwriting is tighter, the hooks stickier and the production crisper as they twist buzzy guitar hooks and driving, rudimentary drum machine beats into seven-minute jams.

The simple production, with Lalonde's untamed vocals clear as a bell and Hamelin's homecoming, lets the joy that played a part in the process of making the short and sweet Uncle, Duke and the Chief shine evidently through.

The accomplishment is that the sound is unique and understated. The unpredictable becomes predictable quickly, though.

Ununiform is an uneven album at best, showing that Tricky isn't bereft of ideas but was lacking the fire to properly flesh them out.

There's no denying the album is catchy.

Innerworld should be their breakthrough album at the very least, and may very well be the album of the winter, a season that fits it well.

Jukka's production style and Boucher's lyrics and singing are strong on their own, but together, their chemistry has led to one of the year's strongest debuts.

We can't help but hope that after eight years, he may have tried something a little more off the beaten path. That being said, fans will surely enjoy more Torske in their lives, and Byen is Bjørn Torske at his most idyllic.

While recent work has affirmed that Tatum's comfort zone is clear, Laughing Gas is a reminder that he is still open to exploration.

Jasssbusters' steady output of blue-tinted melodies make it an exceedingly easy listening experience.

Goodman and Bevan's take does an adequate job of representing the variety that has spanned over the Fabriclive mix series, but unfortunately manifests as being somewhat unkempt.

Take the Sadness Out of Saturday Night, Antonoff's third album as Bleachers, is at best a heartfelt batch of tracks that are nice to experience in the moment, but rarely anytime after. This doesn't mean there aren't a few glimpses of the full potential of Bleachers' musical direction; they're just crowded by much of the same heard on records past.

Junto is yet another solid album of party anthems to--as promised in "Unicorn"--"get your body jumpin'" this Summer.

As with his previous output, regardless of the myriad influences in effect, you never once have any doubts you are listening to a Zomby record.

Dropping two or three songs would be enough to turn this very good record into a brilliant one.

99¢ is an album buoyed by its sonic playfulness, but which fails to shake its playlist sensibility--entertaining, engaging but only occasionally leaving a lasting impression.

The craftsmanship of the album is impeccable, synonymous with the Cologne sound Kompakt has become so well known for.

Gershwin features a number of quirky, intriguing turns from Cyndi Lauper, who on paper couldn't seem further removed from this longtime country outlaw but in execution sounds just right.... Better still are the moments in which Nelson goes it alone, pushing his famed high voice in unexpected directions.

Their self-titled debut LP packs a mighty wallop, matching a brutish, derisive attitude with whip-smart songwriting and compelling hooks.

The highs aren't quite as high as they might have been ten years ago, but Nada Surf are dependable purveyors of indie rock, and on YKWYA, they are as solid as ever.

If The OF Tape Vol. 2 proves one thing it's that Odd Future aren't just a product of the Internet hype machine.

This is outsider music that manages to remain accessible yet endlessly provoking.

Nosaj Thing isn't just a brooding, melancholic minimalist, but an interior designer finding the perfect shade of white — not for some high-fashion contrivance, but for the psychological and emotional effects a colourful sunset will bring to it.

At eight tracks, some might criticize it on grounds of length, but these are robust, well-crafted songs that, even after multiple spins, reveal fresh details between the more obvious hooks.

As their most viscerally intense release thus far, Kiss My Super Bowl Ring has the Garden screaming as much as they are singing, and transitioning between the two within a matter of seconds. Somehow, the Shears brothers are able to make it work.

Despite how thunderous Thatcher sounds behind the drums or how dirty Kerr's bass tone is, unfortunately there isn't a pedal for more robust and compelling songwriting.

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.