First Demo is the closest thing to a new release that we're probably ever going to get. It's also the most interesting insight into the band since the Steve Albini demos for In On The Kill Taker leaked.

It is as brilliant. What Faith in Strangers does do is confirm Stott's position as one of the most stirring and explorative producers going.

Banks has managed to pull off a minor miracle, as Broke With Expensive Taste is an artistic success as well as a strategic one.

Still Life is a slick, full-bodied collection that shows that Morby has lots of sonic ideas, most of which are great.

The first half or so of pom pom proves Ariel Pink is still a pretty formidable songwriter.... From there, the structure seemingly breaks away, as Pink indulges in further left-field whims that are often more novel than gratifying.

It's a rare record that serves as an entry point for newcomers while rewarding old fans who've stuck by them since the beginning.

The thing is, despite the strength of the band (which also includes bassist Todd Sickafoose and guest Ivan Neville), much of the 12-song album feels like filler.

For both Bedhead fans and casual record collectors, Bedhead 1992-1998 is a fascinating (and comprehensive) look into one of indie rock's great forgotten acts.

Antemasque isn't quite the return to form that fans of ATDI and Mars Volta might be expecting. As far as fresh starts go, however, it's a promising one.

Pink Floyd's final farewell doesn't deliver anything particularly unfamiliar to those acquainted with the Gilmour years. However, The Endless River serves its purpose as well as a collection of unreleased material can--it remembers an integral band member while reflecting on past glories in a reserved, respectable fashion.

Hell Can Wait succeeds as a reintroduction of sorts, showing Staples as a more focused and forward-moving artist who will surely outlive "them red roses."

Let's Cry and Do Pushups at the Same Time seems to be Wyatt's way of reconciling his vast repertoire of influences and his many interests into one concise package, and on that idea alone, the album is a success.

If All In My Head is a stepping-stone in their sound, there's something great on the horizon from Seaway.

Dream Police take an expert background in far noisier music and strip it down to its bones, offering something that is simultaneously intense and easy on the ears.

It's obvious for his fans he's making the music he's set out to create and when he's taken strategic measures to please the mainstream. But luckily for his avid listeners, K.R.I.T. almost entirely does the former here, upholding the funky, southern-psychedelic rap that his fans turn to him for.

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.

Stalley showcases eclectic strengths on this release, but focus certainly isn't one of them.

The impressive thing about the return of the progenitors of Swedish melo-death isn't the time elapsed since their last album; rather, it's how much it sounds like none has.

While we wait to see what lays in store for Röyksopp's future, we can be thankful that they've offered us such fully realized package, one that reminds us of the power of the full-length and of what has made them such singular figures in electronic music.

Content Nausea reasserts Parkay Quarts as talented musicians able to deliver successive releases that are far more accomplished than many other big label garage-rock albums.

On Faithfull's latest album, Give My Love to London, the collaborations work best when they contrast with Faithfull's signature weathered chanteuse persona, giving a new background for her unmistakable voice.

The strongest moments on IX, like on any of the band's albums, are those that manage to create a vast rock sound by building elements up to impressive climaxes before bringing them crashing down.

It's dreamy eccentricity; a little crazy and courageous, and a strong statement.

Complètement Fou is filled to the brim with catchy electro-pop tracks about shaking your hips, going crazy and road trips.

It's an album that has a nice enough groove throughout, and again, the quality of the production really cannot be overstated.

Although "My Last Nerve" also falls victim to mid-tempo meandering, the remainder of the album serves as some of the best thrash from thrash's best band, who sound like they play their music with a shit-eating grin and a machete hidden behind their backs.

The band have once again found their sweet spot.

On Black Metal, Blunt's style is still very difficult to classify, yet a hint more inviting and amicable than his last.