The result is a stunning balancing act between ingenuity and accessibility.

The focus is the production rather than the songs, and Ultramarine is sadly missing the killer choruses required for a great pop album.

The Diplo-directed record is a somewhat sloppy mish-mash of reggae cuts that rarely attain an authentic air.

Wait to Pleasure is a marked improvement on their debut that demonstrates No Joy's capacity as sonic adventurists capitalizing on the advantages of a studio environment.

Pre-interlude, Bankrupt! is trekking along the right path; it's a futuristic journey into a foreign place for Phoenix, akin to a soundtrack for an updated Lost in Translation. But things quickly go off the rails once it spirals out of the dizzying interlude of flashing synths, losing its sense of melody and purpose.

Indicud won't work for everyone, but if you're a Cudi fan, this album finds him sounding better than he has in some time.

The classic heavy metal and surf rock elements that made their debut so appealing are intact, with some additional psychedelia and more driving, intense guitar riffs.

Although Simian Mobile Disco have the ability to give each track its own distinct personality, Live is a mere curiosity for even the most refined technocrats.

With an exceptionally dismal sound, and artwork by Anthony Lucero to match, Dragged Down a Dead End Path is set to be one of the best aggressive releases of the year.

While Ghost on Ghost is outstanding in places, it's too uneven to hold up to Beam's best work.

Most of the album feels too much like a work-in-progress.

Ghostface's usual penchant for free-associative wordplay is a bit hemmed in by the structure, but he gets plenty of help to ensure the storytelling remains compelling.

The album is ridiculously fun and surprising, in that it sounds like much older UK electronic rooted in the present. What's quite out of place though are the distinctly lagging tracks that dawdle across the album.

Sure, there are slight variations on the formula and some additional instrumentation (namely strings and harpsichord), but this is still Thee Oh Sees being the very best Thee Oh Sees they can be.

By daring to show a bit of personality, the Thermals continue to prove themselves in today's musical landscape.

Birthmarks might throw off some, maybe even lose them, but the gamble has paid off, and will undoubtedly result in producing more new fans, as well as reassuring old ones.

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs are back, better than ever and ready to "suck your blood."

The star power of the record's guests overshadows the album's best moments.

Rainbow Arabia attempt to pay tribute to the heyday of synth pop, but overlook the small details that could have made FM Sushi a pleasurable, Technicolor retelling. Instead, the listener is left with black-and-white new wave Cliff Notes.

Let's Face the Music and Dance displays Nelson in his natural element: a small combo playing songs as timeless as his wonderfully idiosyncratic voice.

At turns noisy, wistful and dark, The Terror is a beguiling record that's as beautiful as it is frightening.

Steve Earle doesn't make the same kind of hi-test outlaw country he used to, but The Low Highway shows that his swagger hasn't completely disappeared.

For Professional Use Only's long run time and failure to effectively sequence and transition between instrumentals for a more cohesive experience hamper its impact on the casual listener.

You Are Eternity is a remarkable accomplishment in sound design.

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.