It took three records and 10 years for the band to refine their sound within the recent shoegaze renaissance, but The Great Dismal is without a doubt one of the genre's modern classics.

When Royal Thunder pull things in and keep them snappy, they're heading more towards Rival Sons turf, and that's a good place to be.

Stuffed with guitar histrionics, Cheatahs do fall prey to hero-worship, but they nevertheless deliver an album worthy of its influences.

Moh Lhean is a stellar album that serves as a portrait of the artist as a not-quite-so-young man who's still finding weird new ways to pose age-old questions.

On Warmth, Blondes haven't drastically improved on their sound, but they feel at home delivering ten more high-quality textural cuts.

Fans will still recognize his inimitable approach to propulsive off-kilter rhythm and dissonant timbres, organized into fluid yet alien structures, but the sound is deeper, and its inherent joy all the more resonant.

A LA SALA is an endlessly rewarding album. There's always something new to be discovered in its haze, a whispered lyric between the layers, a little pebble of meaning waiting to be overturned.

As much as these songs hit upon Mudhoney's winning elements, there's a lack of swing in the band's step.

While the tracks are still heavily Black Sabbath-influenced, unfiltered doom, they don't live up to the expectations of what Wino-era Saint Vitus should be capable of.

Now, Then & Forever is a more than worthy addition to the Earth Wind & Fire catalogue.

Though the triumph of 1000 Days is its fusion of light and dark, there are some moments that feel out of place: the murky noise on instrumental "Dovetail" is a bit harrowing against the gentle acoustics on the title track, while "Little Dream," a 38-second spurt of woozy punk, appears and disappears out of nowhere.

A very cohesive, if slightly precious, album.

Nostalgia may still cloak OMD's early work in an impenetrable aura, but this album shows a band at the top of their game.

Like any good folk record, The Nocturne Diaries explores timely social and political issues, with songs about troubled youth and abuse survivors, but these pieces lack the raw immediacy that makes politically-tinged folk music work.

On Plastic Anniversary, Matmos make a perfectly indestructible album from pure indestructible chaos.

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.

Planet Her has no skips, not even the previously released singles. It showcases many sides to Doja but remains cohesive — if you don't consume it in its entirety, you'll definitely miss out on truly understanding her world.

As there's been no sign of new material from Paradinas in the past half-decade, Challenge Me Foolish is just interesting and familiar enough to keep µ-Ziq fans satiated, even if it is inferior to Royal Astronomy.

While Unfidelity isn't the greatest or most ambitious album in the Edwards canon, it certainly sounds the prettiest, making it a perfect port of entry for interested listeners with sensitive palates.

With Black's mystifying decision to release all of the material alphabetically (rather than chronologically) alongside the lack of extensive liner notes and the inclusion of a mostly disappointing bonus disc (comprised of outtakes from 2002's Black Letter Days), The Complete Recordings feels less celebratory than perfun

It's still a bit distant and aloof — and ultimately too tame for its own good — but Chronicles of a Diamond finds the band heading in more interesting directions. It is, in every sense of the word, a vibe.

While Big Red Machine lacked immediate standouts, it was intriguing for its ponderous excursions.

Yes, Native Invader is an effectual statement by an artist who has built her career on making them, but at times it feels a little restrained in its tone compared to some of her most memorable work.

Mission of Burma continue to create inspired, groove-laden post-rock that threatens to overshadow the acts they've influenced at every turn.

Long Slow Dance is a record designed to earn them new fans, but also lose some old ones by ditching the scratchy, unpolished production of their previous work.

Realized with the help of Bird's fabulous backing band, the Hands of Glory, the arrangements on Things Are Really Great Here, Sort Of… are ornate and thoughtful, highlighting both the brilliant Americana song writing of the originals and the sweetly soulful execution of Bird and his band.

The band manages not to compromise their sound, but on The Black Market, the formula is growing stale.

Every song justifies its spot: the Allen Ritter-produced "Drippin'" serves as a standout, exhibiting a staccato delivery and manic yelling, both of which are new to his already vast sonic vocabulary.