Ra Ra Riot persevered (and recently added West Hartford drummer Gabriel Duquette to the lineup), recording a full-length debut by turns soulful and super-catchy.

Conor Oberst (Merge) is the richest collection of songs from Conor Oberst--via Bright Eyes, Desaparecidos, whatever--in a long time.

Springsteen's latest is very good, and a handful of tunes approach the level of urgency and raw desperation that made his earlier music so compelling.

If Isbell’s departure was the cloud, Brighter Than Creation's Dark is the silver lining.

These are full-band songs, with prominent piano, and it sounds more like guys playing in a room than the careful construct of a recording studio. That's a good thing.

The album holds some pleasant surprises.

Most songs, including the single-worthy 'Come Clean,' are still built on soaring vocal interplay and a childlike sense of wonder.

Ray Raposa's creepy folk explorations as Castanets remain intimate affairs writ in miniature, despite a backing band with up to seven members and a choir of 10.

Adam Duritz and company haven’t sounded so committed, so determined, so tuneful, in years.

The shambling London trio Micachu & the Shapes embrace all manners of homemade noises on this cheeky debut, surprisingly produced by electronic experimentalist Matthew Herbert.

Black Cascade is impressive enough to vault Wolves into the top ranks of the highly idiosyncratic U.S. black-metal scene, allowing them rub shoulders with such standard-bearer bands as Nachtmystium and Absu.

His best so far.

The circuitous path to success has done the band good: it's given Brown and company time enough to develop a winsome country-rock style without undue meddling from the major-label mediocracy, and it shows on You Get What You Give.

Whatever the sound, his songs are unfailingly catchy, and his smart lyrics and lovely melodies make them stand out even when they're understated.

The enigmatic nature of his music aside, Oldham invariably sounds like he's having fun making it, which makes Beware a warning only to those who place too high a value on simplistic clarity.

Editors show they're ready to take over with the spacious, stately love-conquers-all tune "The Weight of the World" or the pop-philosophy of the twitchy, pulse-pounding title track.

American Music Club return with a quieter but no less excellent addition to a catalog that stretches back to 1985.

Lewis and Staind sound as though they have emerged from a long, dark tunnel, and that kind of progress is more than just an illusion.

It's a very consistent record, with lots of wide-open spaces and quivering quietness, and just about every sound seems to fit perfectly exactly where it sits.

Demolished Thoughts stands strong as an intriguing entry in an already eclectic catalog, even without peeking behind the curtain.

A tight collection fueled by glints of the rock, soul and country that came out of FAME Studios in Muscle Shoals, Ala., in the '60s and '70s.

Matthews finds a skillful balance in his lyrics between off-handed whimsy and deeper reflections, and the others back him with a tighter version of the instrumental interplay that has made them one of the most popular American bands of the past 15 years.

The 46-year-old Kentucky native rejoins the production team from her breakthrough on Little Wild One and spins a broad spectrum of rock tapestries married to warm, personal musings centered on a common theme.

You could say the closing, piano-and-strings showcase 'Heaven and Alchemy' borrows from some of them. But as a whole. Mantaray proves it's much more the other way 'round.

The Hives' best tunes are the ones that race pell-mell through churning guitar riffs and pounding drums while singer Almqvist hollers about, well, whatever.

With its varied sound and subtle optimism, Chrome Dreams II stands in marked contrast to Young’s more strident recent efforts, but at least he got around to sharing these dreams.

A subtler, smarter album with a considerable capacity to get you moving.

Although Donkey has a sleeker sound than its predecessor, CSS keeps its focus squarely on booty-shaking beats and pulsing bass on songs alternately about rocking your face off (opener 'Jager Yoga') and overcoming emotional turmoil.

It's a deliberate album that never sounds over-thought, and it's moving without even a hint of cliché.

In Rainbows, the band's seventh studio album and first since 2003's "Hail to the Thief," is dense and thorny, complex and beautiful.

Whether grasping for resolve in the stoutly punctuated pulse of "Now I'm Gone" or taking a sober angle on the rattling flow of "Shining On," she soul searches with the best of them, even when it sounds like she might be searching one that belongs to someone else.

The Way I See It doesn't break any new ground, but it's a very well-executed homage that serves to remind that classic soul is timeless.

The simpler arrangements suit Isbell on songs with an understated but unmistakable Southern rock flair.

The album is a refreshing reminder that, in the right hands, the blues is very much a living genre that need not be stuck in a formulaic 12-bar past.

Waits is fearless in generating atmosphere and relentless in avoiding polish.

Pacific Ocean Blue makes a strong case for Wilson's skill as a songwriter and arranger.

She boils songs down to their bare essences, and colors them in simple, evocative ways.

Throughout the CD's 10 tracks, Wino lets his personality show.

Womack's natural balance of tasteful and evocative shapes each tune it touches, carefully stretching the likes of 'Solitary Thinkin'' to make it sweet-sounding and substantial.

Situation actually represents Terfry at his razor-sharp best; it's a disc that should appeal to any fan of good hip-hop, indie or otherwise.

A savvy storyteller with an acid-tipped language, Newman packages yarns in a voice that is the sonic equivalent of an Emmett Kelly clown face, naturally hangdog while subtly playful as he reminisces about life's rough patches.

The album is a credit to all involved; if merely pastiche, it's a marvelous one.

Aesop's fables still require a decoder ring, but the plainer settings make them more effective as post-Beat poetry.

The band's latest, Reunion Tour, appeals directly to your brain.

She has blossomed into one of contemporary folk's most enchanting voices.

Some of those changes have been for good, and some haven't, but the former wins out on Hiatt's 20th album.

A freewheeling stylistic brew.

Produced by Wilco leader Jeff Tweedy, Staples' latest is a joyous celebration of life and faith on traditional gospel songs and tunes by Tweedy, Allen Toussaint, John Fogerty, Randy Newman and Staples' father, Roebuck "Pops" Staples.

The result is a wealth of different musical imaginings, which provides a fascinating glimpse of his creative process on Tell Tale Signs.

It's a record full of deep, freaky grooves.

The collection presents Big Music on a manageable scale, and even if the songs reference fire, water and sky, the long-running Aussie quartet forgoes the kind of sonic grandiosity such subject matter tends to invite.

Though understated compared to their predecessors, these songs are smart and catchy.

Aside from standout individual performances, what makes this vibrant session click so naturally is the collaborative spirit bonding these two great American artists tapping into the rich, varied legacy of our popular music.

Outside Love offers up the best and worst that life has to offer, with love and hate locked in an eternal struggle. It makes the Pink Mountaintops the perfect complement to Black Mountain's lyrical and musical heft.

They strike a forceful balance between elemental and ornate.

Pro Tools surprises because it features consistently powerful backing tracks, several built on the strings-and-scratchy-soul brilliance of Wu mastermind RZA.

Far from easy listening, the tune, like the album, remains oddly accessible. Harvey is a tornado of anger, lunacy, and regret, but her punishing wind is something to behold.

It's Street Sweeper Social Club, pairing guitarist Tom Morello with rapper Boots Riley on a self-titled collection of striking, strident songs that take aim at the status quo with devastating riffs and searing lyrics.

Kala is pop music without the vapidity, and political music without the condescension.

This time, the strong songwriting and astute musical arrangements combine to make Mann's latest her best album so far.

It hits hard without sacrificing any of Lerche's classic pop appeal.

Even the songs that seem simple have greater depth than is at first apparent, and the band's skill at crafting complex music in an increasingly accessible way makes Veckatimest a rich listen.

The emotional outpouring on display dwarfs what most vocal "emo" bands do.

But at its core, the album is no great departure. It's the same seamless amalgam of pop, folk, country and R&B Sexsmith has perfected, like influences and admirers Elvis Costello and Nick Lowe, as poetic and thoughtful as it is tuneful.

Calling on producer Steve Fisk, current Wilco guitarist Nels Cline, and members of Vetiver and Evangelista, Toth conjures a down-home vibe that sinks in slowly but surely.

He has done what few hip-hop stars (and precious few pop stars) have the inclination or ability to attempt: make an album with a consistent vision, which will play convincingly five years later, when its novelty is long gone.

The collection's mood is occasionally bleak and her penchant for amusing vivacity never rears its head, but the soothing comportment of her introspection makes for pleasant listening in even the darkest of corners.

Helm’s voice is still poignant even if it’s nowhere near as strong as it once was.

The Pennsylvania native delivers another pleasant assortment of precocious pop country on Fearless, a set that keeps her natural polish in the middle of the mainstream road, and sports uncommon refinements for a singer her age.

The husband and wife team's fourth album with both of their names on it, Written in Chalk, makes the most of its rangy sonic palette with subtly soul-searing, rough-edged tunes that are equal parts savvy and haunting.

The Philadelphia group's fifth full-length release has a musical richness and depth of songwriting that weren't fully present on Dr. Dog's somewhat less-focused earlier music, though there were hints on "Easy Beat" in 2005 and "We All Belong" in 2007.

The band's previous entry, 2006's "Destroyer's Rubies," was impressive enough, but Trouble In Dreams is even better.

Play It As It Lays is a satisfying, engaging album that deserves to stand apart from the Boss-related madness that's sure to overtake it.

With its poignant beauty and powerful songwriting, Adams' latest is, well, the latest in a string of ever-better sad-bastard records.

The real difference between this album and past Dears efforts, though, is not so much musical directness as Lightburn's lyrical attempts to become the spokesman for the dispossessed.

A wide-ranging sampler of female compositions on which Moorer mostly provides subtle touches and an abundance of cool presence.

The New Milford transplant has released a slew of solo albums, including the excellent new collection Man Overboard.

Metric is back with its strongest collection of songs so far.

The Winnipeg band's fourth studio record, Fast Paced World, is a juicy mixture of components from across the musical spectrum melded into a quirky but cohesive whole.

It’s as entertaining and theatrical as the music is rough and compelling.

Built with introductions and interludes as if it were a live performance, the 25-song set is an exercise in community that employs friends and family wisely, enlisting a choir to fill out the jaunty 'Wonderful Friends' and making Seeger's quavering yet impressively vital voice the centerpiece of his again-relevant Vietnam-era protest, 'Waist Deep in the Big Muddy.'

If you haven't discovered him yet, there's no better time than "Time Being."

If Hot Hot Heat try a little too hard here, they still pile on infectious charm and solid songwriting until resistance seems futile.

Between the grounded sweetness of her singing and the quirky naturalism in her lyrics, songs like the throwback-style 'Anyone but You' develop a naturally appealing sophisticated country.

On 'Sensitive Boys,' one of several standout ballads, he articulates the album's thematic truism: Done right, rock 'n' roll is a reason for living.

It's a far-reaching and ambitious album, stronger than its predecessor and full of gallant wordplay and vivid imagery.

It's been a long time since Radiohead made records with an eye toward anything more than satisfying the band's own creative impulses, if it ever did. Those who are prepared to stick it out, though, may well find The King of Limbs worth the wait.

It's dark and harrowing, but "Year Zero" is the most compelling and fully realized album Reznor has made since "Pretty Hate Machine."

The duo’s modern take on a classic sound runs throughout the new record, a worthy 13-song sophomore effort.

For as combustible as they are, the songs are catchy and conducive to repeated listening.

It's a record with a folky, sometimes psychedelic edge, but it's never self-indulgent or less than focused. In fact, Smoke Ring for My Halo is persuasive evidence that Vile has come fully into his own as a songwriter and musician.

Merritt dials back her soul-shouter instinct on her third album, a collection that finds her balancing restraint with the vivid emotionalism that has driven her music from the start.

This is a more sophisticated record that manages to keep intact the brash sensibility that helped attract all those fans in the first place.

It's an assured effort from the very start.

Despite a slew of hit singles and eye-popping sales figures, Britney Spears has never released an album as coherent from start to finish as her latest, Femme Fatale.

The Crawling Distance, Pollard's umpteenth disc since officially going solo in 2004, offers more of what listeners have come to expect.

Auerbach shows his vocal range again and again, actually singing instead of just howling at the moon, and his knack for warm production is impressive.

A delightful album designed to sink in over repeated listens.