The charm of the disconnected, breezy path that starts the album--seeming interludes punctuated by the odd story of a more solid, structured track--quickly wears thin when you realize said path meanders, the tracks mostly underdeveloped, only occasionally rolling into a bigger sound with tangible depth.

Ultimately, the album sounds confidently beautiful. While some may not be as memorable, songs like "Meadow Song" make this album one of S. Carey's best.

Moaning establish their sound while dodging redundancy on their debut.

They avoid mere imitation, but a sense of aimlessness still floats through the record.

Across the record, Malone has not only seemed to forget what makes his music tick, but also who his fanbase is.

For now, it's likeable despite feeling a little too aimless.

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.

On In Sickness & in Flames, the Front Bottoms decided to let their stream of consciousness dictate the majority of the 12 songs on this album, it's harder to decipher what many of them even mean. It's infuriating, but that's what also why band has such a dedicated fanbase.

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.

The Kills' fifth studio album might not bring anything particularly new and groundbreaking to their discography, but it certainly won't disappoint fans.

There's very little on offer to ground the listener here, which makes Maze of Woods a challenging collection; it's the aural equivalent of a 90-minute movie that feels like a 3-hour watch.

Although there are some standouts on the album, like the vocal push-and-pull of "Don't Move Back to L.A.," the soulful "Shelter Song" and the dramatic buildup of "Human Being Song," Sheff sounds rather lost throughout this album, hampered by indecisive arrangements and ambling verses.

The History of Apple Pie have no illusions that they're reinventing the wheel, but Feel Something should silence critics who dismissed the group as another example of record collection rock.

Over seven tracks, Moonface and Siinai expertly pair Krug's iconic warble with instrumental propulsion that showcases a more positive and collaborative side to the team's sound.

It's a late night listening record set in the candlelit environment of the human psyche and a worthy followup to Nathaniel's Falling Faster Than You Can Run.

Melvins Lite at once bring the noise to more mature ears and reignite the fan fervour that petered out around 1996's Stag.

One of the only things missing from the album is flow between tracks. Songs hit a satisfying ending, but then fade out and move to a track that doesn't connect to what the listener just heard.

When a guy comes all the way from Jakarta, that's unique, and you want something unique from him. Amen falls way short of that.

Though the band have toed the line between boyish charm and adolescent callousness for most of their career, this ambivalence has not aged well, and often obscures the more successful moments of sincerity on the record.

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.

After five or six songs, it has a sonic and thematic sameness to it that manages to work solely because of the glimmering moments when he allows other voices to sparkle and the high-quality production.

As their past few LPs suffered from a bout of structural sameness, Wham! Bang! Pow! Let's Rock Out! contains just enough musical and lyrical variety to place it amongst Art Brut's finest work.

Subtly sad, sweetly distorted and at times outright trippy, the result is perfect for long drives under summer skies.

Eucalyptus finds Portner going back-to-basics, taking listeners on a psychedelic but steady trip over 15 tracks with atmospheric and shifting samples ("Lunch Out of Order" Pt. 1 and 2), Sung Tongs-style guitar work ("Jackson 5," "PJ" and opener "Season High") and spaced-out instrumentation (the twisted "Boat Race" and lo-fi drone of "Dr aw one").

The Desaturating Seven finds Primus oddly compelling, as ever.

Black Rock is still filled with McCombs' spacious, isolating tracks ("Tonight at Ten," "Gold!"), which are best for lonely winter evenings.

A frustrating album that manages to both thrill and disappoint in equal measure, which suggests that with some trimming, this could have been an incredible EP.

Cruel Summer has too few of these transcendent moments and is decidedly less than the sum of its parts.