Highlights the band at its most exploratory.

Kinsella carefully enunciates his lyrics to make sure we hear all the clever references he's making, forcing SAT words into musical phrases that stagger under the weight of their pretense.

And though she may be running in place lyrically, her melodies have never been keener and her vocals grow richer and more confident with each release.

Grand Mal takes a connoisseur's approach to classic rock, and when it works, the best of Bad Timing can stand tall next to its forefathers.

Beggar Boys may not change anyone's view of the band, but it is another strong outing in what is turning into a pretty consistent body of work.

An invigorating mix of spacey dub, seventies funk, eighties big-beat electro, old school hip-hop and even early Prince, Father Divine is Ladd's most lyrically accessible and sonically enjoyable album to date.

They are a lot more inspired-sounding than many of their more contemporary-sounding colleagues.

A shot of raw psych rock that's as adventurous as it is accessible.

The results are not for the faint of heart – beats stutter uncomfortably, disappear without warning, and practically scratch out the walls of your speakers from the inside.

As a bridge over the analog/digital divide, Chapel's a bit behind the curve. But, when they hit their marks, Weatherall and Tenniswood's versatility shines through.

For pure intensity and soul, Damage is now THE album in the Blues Explosion catalog, and essential listening at that.

The album as a whole isn't interesting enough lyrically or musically to hold itself together.

[Disc 1 is] a revealing, if not quite essential, portrait of the artist.... [Disc 2 is] an inventive, rewarding look at the Pixies esteemed catalogue.

Zilla delivers a cleverly orchestrated junket of joyful raucousness and synth whirls.

George has an indistinct voice somewhere between Suzanne Vega and Cat Power. Her lyrics are not mind-blowing, but not at all banal.

More hypnotically dark gems.

With his merely efficient playing, Mould never reaches the highs of electric ecstasy he perfected in his heyday.

Nothing's Lost is heavier, denser and in its best moments, verges on pop nirvana.

The record's glossy sheen and sharp nostalgia give it a calculated, lab-constructed feel.

An interesting, if flawed work.

A puzzling release.

While the structured nature of [Looks At The Bird] is likely to hold your attention longer than the static and hum of Brokeback's last release, Morse Code in the Modern Age, the lack of challenge often detracts from the fulfillment that comes with a difficult listen.

It's all Around You isn't their best -- or most challenging -- work, but it's a sign the band is still making music in a bubble.

In a way CVB's New Roman Times is on par career-wise with Rush's 2112 - well, minus the klezmer anyway.

[They] could have easily narrowed the selections from their debut into a three song EP, or possibly even a single. In nixing eight or more of the songs from Underwater Cinematographer, the band would've also cut down on all the annoying shouting, half-melodies, pompous song structures and garbled lyrics.

The band continuously recycles itself into a feeble mass.

When layers of choir-boy vocals are added to the group's singing ("Hun Joro"), when feeble, naturalistic sounds are used in questing improvisations ("Sigur Ros"), or when acoustic instruments coalesce with a swath of electronics ("Dogun"), you'll find your jaw on the floor, too, stunned as ever.

All in all it's not the noise rush we were craving - and no, it's not as good as Source Tags - but did anyone really think it could be?

The compilation will not alter your opinions of Lali Puna. But between the new material and older cuts previously scattered across numerous singles and compilations,I Thought I Was Over That is something fans old and new will want to have around.

The music is as soothing as a lullaby and as challenging as a modern art exhibit.

Occasionally, Memphis' songs coast on an attractive soundscape rather than going for a compositional or lyrical knockout punch. Nevertheless, I Dreamed we Fell Apart is often quite beguiling.

The Radar Brothers have been called "pastoral," "wandering" and "spacey." Their latest, The Fallen Leaf Pages, adds nothing new to this mix of descriptors.

Throughout, Doe strikes just the right balance. He's confident but not arrogant; laid back, yet full of vitality.

Where Corpse works, it's merely a repeat of past successes. The few tentative steps into unfamiliar territory are marked failures.

Like the band's first two albums, Winchester Cathedral is solid. But also like its predecessors, the album suffers from the "Hey, didn't I already hear this song?" syndrome.

Unfortunately, Pole contains no revelations beyond what was revealed in the prior EPs. With this release, Betke calls his own bluff and loses.

fulfilled/complete is thoroughly compelling, until it reaches its closer, "The Dream," and becomes urgent, essential listening.

What the act does offer - chunky dance music with icy vocals that recall Debbie Harry when Dykes is on the mic - sounds great in terms of dance production.

While Waves is not quite a knockout, it delivers some undeniable pleasures nonetheless.

That Kinski succeeds at knocking you over with noise on one album and then killing with you silence on the next is something to marvel at.

Phantom Planet, although obviously representing a group still searching for its sonic niche, nonetheless manages to entertain, perhaps proving there can be life after "California."

A solid collection of the most talked-about bands in the New York underground.

The found sounds on Digital Ash can seem an affected and unnecessary embellishment in certain places.... But in other places they work.

Those who can overlook this slightly dumbed-down approach will find This Island is not without its moments.

A gorgeous, shimmering 40 minutes of music - a sonic road trip through parts unknown.

Ima Robot mines the dark recesses of metal, glam, new wave and electro, meshing its findings without a stitch to produce memorable choruses that stick in your head long after they're gone.

Otto Spooky is designed not so much to be enjoyed as to be a spectacle.

A disarmingly beautiful album.

It's a bit of a disappointment considering the rich subject matter, though Trans Am prove themselves once again masters of their own oblique domain.

The record... is able to maintain a thrilling tension between bright, dream-like songs and an encroaching darkness.

The first pleasant surprise of 2004.

It's funny and smart and a little annoying in large doses.

That's not to say that Love & Distortion is a bad album, just that it's thoroughly average.

The harmonies aren't as blissful and the songs more conventional than those of previous releases.

As hit-and-miss as its 2003 predecessor.

Garnier displays an ability to approximate several genres, yet betrays his fellow travelers by failing to infuse any of them with individuality or innovation.

The punk dominates more than it ever did on its electro-tilted predecessors.

In recasting these wilfully off-kilter tunes and investing them with his trademark warm and inviting melancholia, Mark Kozelek need not be modest: Tiny Cities is a big success.

Filled with zesty pop confections, sing along choruses, and plenty of attitude.

A set that flat out refuses to be ignored.

Second disc Chirpin' Hard is the crowd-pleasing Speakerboxxx to Hill's less-accessible Church Gone Wild.

The concept is difficult to follow and the music occasionally unpleasant. But the band’s willingness to stretch in new directions is refreshing.

What strikes most is a sense of uncomfortable suspension, and what keeps the album afloat remains a true mystery listen after listen.

The album has a sonic cohesiveness that makes for a consistently pleasant listening experience.

The one thing that holds the whole record together stylistically, though, is that Shipping News play Very Serious Rock Music.

People tend to like Joan of Arc when they play songs, but get all worked up and annoyed when the band stretches out with the experimental stuff. This record is a bunch of the stuff that would have pissed off that latter group of people had the music been bunched in with So Much Staying Alive...

Bumblebeez brings loose, frenetic energy to a mash-up of likely and unlikely sources.

Forget Tomorrow is a record of two exceptional ideas that would sound better as separate records.

Battery is an album of diminishing returns that sputters out of steam halfway through.

The group has obviously lost whatever touch they once had for making unique, interesting music.

Despite the relatively spartan proceedings, there is a substantial amount to latch onto here.

The lack of distinctiveness is what ultimately makes All Years Leaving utterly forgettable.

Often dreamy, sometimes rockin', but rarely more than pedestrian.

As long as they continue to compose such memorable material, there is more than enough room for Mono in the post-rock pantheon.

It's not that Kannberg has somehow "sold out" with Preston School of Industry, but for the time being, he's clearly lost the urge to take good risks.

The songs are likable, but lack a core.

The punk-informed material on Blitzkrieg Pop sounds like the missing link between Ministry's earlier, sensitive electro material and its later and more well-known incarnation as the nihilistic buzz-sawing and bile-spewing industrial unit.

There is some irony in following up a record called We Fight Til Death with one titled (and as vital as) Giving Up The Ghost. However, Windsor For The Derby doesn't sound as if it has succumbed to anything save for its singular atmospheric pop tendencies.

Songs is heavy on romantic longing, but the music is so coy and smart that it rarely feels mushy.

Sparta earn points for thinking big and penning deeply-felt songs that break the five-minute mark, but ambition alone isn't enough.

Marrying a knack for hummable melodies to a much-needed dose of sincerity, The Hiss hammers their tunes home with a sense of urgency on par with their classic rock and Brit-pop idols.

If the fifties rocked this hard, we'd be dead now.

Surprisingly, the time frame covered by the collection does not detract from the listening experience, rewarding Cursive-completists with moments of power punk and the angular guitar work the band has come to be known for.

The album's production, particularly the insistence on pinning Brown's hazy croon way on top of the mix, too often dulls any punch the music would otherwise have.

The Catheters do little to distinguish themselves, instead offering formulaic rock rebelliousness in a nicely packaged, repetitive form.

As a hip-hop record, Headset's Space Settings fails to hit the mark of its influences, but it is successful in its own right.

The '80s idolatry is far too forced and distracting, and VHS or Beta comes off as trying too hard to imitate admittedly great, but definitely dated, pop music.

Behold 2004, your kings of yawn-rock, Son, Ambulance.

This record is a high-quality package of music that will keep most DM fans happy, but is not exactly earth-shaking in any way.

Solid, if unspectacular.

A buzzing, raw jewel of a record that hints at seemingly limitless possibilities for Beckett's songwriting.

To be sure, there is nothing on Often Lie that is revolutionary - for the most part Dalley delivers straight ahead power pop.

The spoken-word Sonny and Cher act of Chains and Sue does gets tiresome at moments, lyrics like "you be the follower, let's kill the leader" aren't as clever as their authors believe, and the record does run on a fairly consistent mid-tempo bounce.

The album feels half baked, as though Morrison isn't quite sure which direction to take his nascent solo career.

Amber Headlights has clear thematic and structural parallels to the Afghan Whigs' excellent 1996 rock opera Black Love.

The outcome is alternately brilliant and awful, adventurous and boring, incisive and pretentious, over-wrought and subtle.

Despite the wailing vocals and insipid lyrics, the rhythm section nearly saves this album with its tensely coiled, ready-to-explode grooves.

It's hard to think of any reason to buy this album, and if you do, it's hard to imagine any reason for listening to it more than once (unless you hate your neighbors or your cat).