Although "Queen Mary" was a strong showing, At Mount Zoomer--named for the band's recording space--is an instant classic, distancing itself from indie rock's skin-deep quirks on the way to something grander and more enduring.

Like much of Diamond's canon, these songs are rich with melodramatic flare-ups.

Seventh Tree is the inevitable comedown, a pastoral holiday that trades glittery hedonism for quiet contemplation.

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

It's a gorgeous, low-key album, full of musical nuance that unfolds with slow grace and exerts an irresistible pull back to the start after the last note has sounded.

Although Cursive is still one of the best at what it does, "Happy Hollow" fails to live up to previous greatness.

The 58-year-old songsmith shifts gears and lets someone else produce for a change on Sex and Gasoline, but continues to hit the right notes and nerves on tunes with earthy roots charms bubbling over with smartly phrased discontent.

This record is far more cohesive and creative musically, but it's less inspiring lyrically.

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

"Friend Opportunity" is arguably Deerhoof's finest album so far, and it ensures the band remains among contemporary pop's most fascinating and forward-thinking artists.

In the context of such a refreshing, instantly likable album, even the abstract linking tracks work, breaking up the 13 sugary full-length songs and allowing each to be unwrapped and savored individually.

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.

The Kentucky-bred singer builds an ideal showcase for her strengths on Sleepless Nights, unearthing a string of jewels from country's past with a passionate, pure revival of classics both familiar and rescued from obscurity.

Swift makes good on his promise with 10 soulful new songs loaded with heart and smarts.

"Cassadaga" is an insular, self-referential album that strives for depth and profundity and sounds instead like a high-school poetry reading, full of rhyming-dictionary couplets and banal pronouncements about life.

McKay's voice is the real treat as she trips gaily from airy on "Pink Chandelier" to the vocal equivalent of a furrowed brow on "There You Are in Me."

He delivers everything that makes Silver Jews records great, but he's fallen victim to his own past successes: the peaks and valleys that made "Tanglewood Numbers" such a dizzying listen have been smoothed down and filled in, leaving the faithful with an album that is merely good.

This album veers all over the place, but it's united by spotless production, eerie control and a confidence that's well deserved.

They responded with Death Magnetic, the best Metallica album since "Metallica."

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

It's a successful experiment... largely because the differences between Marr and Mouse turn out to be more harmonious than anyone could have expected.

This is decidedly Muhly's vision, and though he plays only keyboards and a few other instruments here, he composed the entire album, which will go down in history as a cult classic for especially adventurous listeners.

"Friend and Foe" might be the first truly great record of 2007.

While the slower, gentler moments are not without charm, large sections of the album land on the wrong side of the drowsy-dreamy divide.

Beck has shown an affinity for retro-leaning styles on his previous records, too, but he's never found a sound quite as consistent or compelling as the one Danger Mouse dials in here.

Wainwright's songs are tight, cohesive and show real emotion.

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

Despite the subtly uplifting message, Lucky lacks the emotional heft of the former.

Carpenter... us[es] image-rich, airy tunes to sweetly embrace positive persistence in the face of adversity.

As on past releases, he mostly celebrates the snap and polish of the sharkskin '60s. His songs crib so blatantly from that era that citing his influences--Sam Cooke, Ray Charles, Van Morrison--is almost redundant.

Soul music impeccably poised between past and future, anchored by a warm voice comfortingly similar to Bill Withers'.

An album so confident in its experimental spirit that its eclecticism seems nothing short of captivating, even though its charms are subtle enough to require a little time before they become apparent.

It's a loose, easy-rolling centerpiece to an album that shows, after several fussier efforts, how effectively the Decemberists can make use of open space in their music. The King is Dead--long live the king.

Longtime fans may accuse the band of losing its edge with age, but The Lucky Ones is still an exciting and efficient bridge between the Stooges' growling ruckus and Nirvana's noisy pop anthems.

It's provided great fodder as devotees of celebrity gossip speculate on who, exactly, she's singing about, but with Swift's endearing appeal as a singer and ever-growing skill as a songwriter, Speak Now makes for great listening, too.

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

His songs here aren't always as memorable as on previous albums, but the good tunes are great.

In some spots, the pacing proves problematic.

Sparse arrangements enhance the material's mood and texture, which range from the chipper instrumental splashes that color a revision of her iconic 'Big Yellow Taxi' to the supple pulse that lends a meandering flow to the hopeful, grounded meditation of the title track.

Deacon is hampered by his boundless creativity. In his mad dash to leave no pathway unexplored, he neglects to chart a course toward anyplace in particular.

White, a Wesleyan graduate, takes the best elements of punk, new wave, dub reggae and electronica and fuses them into an utterly arresting sonic pile-up different from anything else around.

Best of all, though, in these 14 piano-driven, acoustic settings is the pure, lustrous Thomas approach to everything from blues-drenched soul to chic jazz balladry.

There is occasional resemblance here to the drowsy Memphis vibe on Cat Power's 2006 album, "The Greatest," but Sykes' tour [of] the soul is both grittier and spookier.

Proof of Youth can be awfully fun and should go over like gangbusters live, but listeners seeking depth or clarity in this hyperactive pastiche will come away disappointed

The album is loaded with arresting musical touches.

She saves the best for last, though, layering piano, subtle guitar and synthesizers over a steady four-beat rhythm and singing a lilting melody with strong lyrics taking stock of life and love.

There are plenty of worthwhile moments, such as the banging soul romp of the title track, but Weller surrounds them with exhausting filler cuts and showboating genre change-ups.

It’s a strong album, but The Big Doe Rehab grows wearying by the end, like pounding Red Bull to stay up all night debating whether there ever were any weapons of mass destruction.

Where Francis suffers is in the music.

Enjoying the Moondoggies, though, hinges on being able to accept a couple of Seattleites in their early 20s digging so earnestly into the '70s.

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

Pierce hasn't totally rejected quick tempos and piled-high productions, but in the context of the album, the livelier songs are actually the least effective.

An album as engrossing as it is sometimes unsettling.

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

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.

The duo's third album uses its fidgety rhythms and broad palette of synth sounds to create music that's perhaps subtler and more emotionally resonant than any they could hope to fashion using "real" instruments.

There's something of a jukebox feel to Apollo Sunshine's third album, despite the near-radioactive levels of reverb-hazy psychedelia throughout.

It's really not that complicated at all - it's just good fun.

Jumping from Sub Pop to Toronto-based Arts & Crafts, the band is as strong and endearing as ever on Kensington Heights.

Some connect better than others, and the album feels a little front-loaded, but it's still a treat to hear Malkmus get in touch with his inner guitar hero.

It’s an earnest homage to lean guitar rock with bluesy underpinnings.

Although the folk songs fit the theme of the album, they don't showcase Cooder's skills as a composer.

The jumble of languages and sounds gives La Radiolina the feel of a noisy, colorful street bazaar where there's chaotic beauty on the surface and a certain poetic logic that runs underneath.

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

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.

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

The 47-year-old Oklahoma native alters that repertoire somewhat with That Don't Make me a Bad Guy, sticking to accessible, down-home rock even as his singing ranges from new directions to bland drains on his natural character.

With its varied sound and newly expansive songwriting, "Attack & Release" is a bold but entirely fitting way for the Black Keys to prove they know more than one way to make a statement.

With haunted, abstract songs that are about as easily grasped as passing specters or gusts of sea mist, the Good, the Bad and the Queen is a dream collaboration that sometimes feels like a nightmare.

While the overall arc is inspirational, the album takes an unflinchingly dark view of the civil rights struggle.

No one ought to begrudge Tweedy his hard-won peace of mind, but there's less of the emotional, or musical, turbulence here that made for such compelling listening on previous Wilco records.

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

On her fifth CD, Bare Bones, the Georgia native puts her stamp on all-new material, and weaves an alluring tapestry of sonic elegance, vocal character and lyrical bite.

It's the most focused and cohesive album Adams has released in years.

Featuring 10 originals and three covers (including an unlisted version of 'Swing Low, Sweet Chariot'), the album is a showcase for Deschanel’s pipes and Ward’s clever musical arrangements.

The songs on Oracular Spectacular are considered and carefully constructed, and as a result, they’re taut, hooky and highly danceable, in a hipster-dance-party kind of way.

High points are overshadowed by the abundance of filler on Intoxication.

"Whaleheart" is sure to be one of the year's finest releases, which shouldn't come as news to anyone familiar with Callahan's singular, indelible songwriting.

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

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.

Thanks to a certain screw-it attitude and massive, enveloping soundscapes, Glasvegas is a deeply engrossing and relentlessly catchy introduction to a group that's hyped enough in Britain to have already generated plenty of backlash.

Smile is one of the better heavy releases this year, and one of the best in the band's extensive catalog.

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.

The guitars are rough and the lyrics mumbled, but even the most rote garage tunes betray a craftsmanship often missing from the genre. The collection is the Lips' first that would have benefited from some trimming.

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.

Midnight Boom" opens with its excellent first two singles, "U.R.A. Fever" and the danceable "Cheap And Cheerful," and from there things get pretty sleepy until the cheerfully blown-out "M.E.X.I.C.O.," a 97-second anthem so catchy that you'll get a callous on your thumb from skipping back to it.

Essential background music, if such a thing exists.

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.

If the lyrics occasionally seem first-draft rough, the melodies are sharper than on 2005's "Other People's Lives," and the varied musical settings--such as the rockabilly of opener 'Vietnam Cowboys' or the spooky New Orleans blues of 'The Voodoo Walk'--throw into sharper relief the classic Kinksian pop of songs like 'You're Asking Me' and the title track, which show Davies alternately snarling and sighing at the world as winningly as ever.

From this ambitious approach comes an unqualified stylistic success.

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.

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

Here, Eno, who wrote the music, opts for a more familiar sound, mixing electronic elements and acoustic guitars to create cottony, unobtrusive pop songs.

He picks solid songs with themes just about anyone can relate to, and he sings them with a hint of twang in his warm voice. His songs feel like home, and his latest, Twang, is no different.

Parallel Play finds the quartet in fine form.

Like Maroon 5... Fall Out Boy has found a middle ground where its raffish charm is edgy enough to engage teens in love with angst, and safe enough for the mass consumption that's sure to follow.

A moody, stark and hypnotically discomfiting assortment of ruminations.

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.