This isn't a case of a band branching into a new sound as much as becoming a new band altogether. And this one just doesn't make the cut.

Where's the NoDoz? Chillwave may have officially become too chill, bros.

Young's sandblasting electric guitar sits handsomely alone before eerie rumbling atmospheres.

It's heady stuff with plenty of detours and time changes.

Funstyle's what would happen if M.I.A. joined a musical sequence on Saved by the Bell.

Ultimately, this collection is a series of album nearly-rans. This shouldn't undermine the songs, but it should reiterate how strong Weezer's records actually are (for the large part).

While Senior is sometimes reminiscent of Royksopp's stellar 2001 debut Melody A.M., it also feels like a poor man's attempt at an Air record.

Too often, though, the metronomic guitar-plucking and rainy-day harmonies give the tunes an interchangeable, mid-tempo somberness, which inevitably turns boring.

This ambitious LP is an acid-tinged, ambient headfuck that's guaranteed to blow your brains out all over the couch you've sunk into.

While the piano/acoustic guitar/percussion combo often associated with female songwriters is prevalent, the tracks manage to establish their own identities and not run together. Yet it's ultimately difficult to shake the feeling that you've heard this all before.

It's easily the most focused album of Schneider's career.

From the Midlands to the Midwest, the mediocre couldn't be more on fire.

For all of the thought required, the album is still very natural and accessible.

So it turns out Cuomo was whispering apologies to his own artistry at this album's close -- it was his love of music he would let suffocate in a jar. No wonder he sounded so sad.

On The Lady Killer, Green takes another shape, but this time with a narrow and singular vision: absolute soul impresario.

The simple brilliance that Gold Panda is capable of delivering with this crisp and intricate album stands in sharp but good contrast to the previously released Quitters Raga.

With Queens of the Stone Age bassist Michael "Mikey Shoes" Shuman taking a breather from that instrument-instead, he performs guitar and drums and sings--the L.A. trio's debut is to shimmering Brit pop what QOTSA is to hard rock.

Portner has long oozed an anarchic and, at times, gloomy essence as Animal Collective's alpha songwriter, and Down There feels quite content wallowing in this murky bath.

Another resplendent nonpareil from Eno (and a collaborative improvisation with Leo Abraham and Jon Hopkins), this is veritably a spontaneous soundtrack to an inferential film, one that is essentially revealed in the imagination of the listener.

The Concretes have always been masters of pop and with WYWH the band pushes beyond the current obsession for Euro-beat synth disco pervading everything.

With a hypnotic sound, magical mood and some Cat Power-inspired fairy-like vocals, L.A. based Warpaint has created a debut album to fall in love with-and to.

Sadly, nearly half the songs on the album are bland, boring, and, quite unabashedly, one-dimensional.

Sure, the sound is still post-Britpop, but Fran Healy isn't turning any corners or wrecking any orders here. However, the effortless craftsmanship and wide range on Wreckorder's ten tracks somehow work to perfection.

Yes, the distortion might be heavy, but when juxtaposed with soaring synths and Brandon Welchez's echoing vocals, Sleep Forever creates a kaleidoscopic landscape much more intricate than the duo's previous effort.

Expect talk of his crossover potential, the way he weds a mighty, funny, fresher-than-hell stage presence to the tried-and-true gangsta tropes of stunts and blunts. Expect 2Pac comparisons. Expect, based off this EP, great albums.

With Majesty Shredding, the group toggles between what once was and where it wants to be, bringing back punk and infusing it with a whole lotta pop. [Fall 2010, p.96]

Familial sits in one mood and stays there-it's unfortunately not one you would like to be in for very long.

With less vocals, more warp and looser production, it's a witchier, Midwestern answer to its London, dub-driven predecessors.