For a band noted for their precious aesthetics, their secretly aggressive riffs and jabbing zings are the most essential facets to their authenticity.

Neatly cut and effortless in its melodic simplicity.

Easy Tiger is his most consistent effort since Gold and his without doubt his most assured ever.

A dazzling collection of songs, Putting The Days To Bed cements Roderick's reputation as one of the best songwriters working today.

With OH (ohio), Wagner has crafted a soundtrack of specific detail for that lazy mid-morning melancholy that comes to anyone who feels like the world is turning without them. Enjoy it.

While Young Machetes is a slight slip in quality, it is the first the band has made so far.

Woke On A Whaleheart is a pleasure, and aside from the intro to the song "Footprints," every moment on this record is immensely listenable.

Listening to The Weakerthans makes me feel young and happy and hopeful.

It's a pretty good album if you can get the idea of its dreary additions to their setlists out of your head.

Although the loud tracks are the most immediate, the subtleties of later numbers like "Reptiles" prove nearly as rewarding,; don't even think of stopping play before "Gunman" shows what these pros do with a dance number.

Overall, Hera Ma Nono left a good impression with several notable points, however, there will be no drooling this time around.

A blueprint for where hip hop should be headed.

Mixtapes can be sloppy and scattered, but every Alchemist beat on Return of the Mac works - so well, in fact, that with a little more effort, this could have been an actual album worthy of heavy promotion and radio edits.

The whole of the album is stunning and unique, and if the thematic gender-bending core of the album makes a few people ideologically shy away, then it's truly a shame.

For however much this album is worth berating, there's no denying that Subtle are an extremely talented group of musicians, and ExitingARM is not so much a fuck-up as it is a trial in exploring limitations.

Screw the band name, McBean is a temporal writer, and he channels his unique vision into equal parts regardless of his color-coded outfit. It's a bold and brash move that is working wonders thus far.

This style of mock-rock doesn’t have a long shelf life, as the songs cease to be funny and hipsters will inevitably find a new way to offhandedly make fun of/glorify themselves.

With plenty of talent, the Raconteurs have a unique sound; they only need to spend more time trimming it down.

Acid Tongue has more hits than misses. However, Lewis doesn't realize her full potential on this LP.

Drowaton is as close to an orchestral pop masterpiece as you’re going to get.

Good Arrows tempers its communal, folky feel with tasteful and restrained use of samples and loops, resulting in an inviting environment that feels soothing and organic.

Their songs aren’t radio friendly nor are they mind-blowing in scope or execution, but give them time and they’ll creep into the rotating playlist in your head.

As with other Crooked Fingers albums, Bachmann’s stories really command most of our attention here, and they serve to elevate his songs beyond just being clever pastiches of pop music.

There are pleasant moments, but by any measure Seeing Things as a whole is rather bland and featureless.

Hart’s multiple layers of sound keep his unadventurous song structures from becoming trite; though Our Thickness is pure verse-chorus-verse-chorus fare with no flashy bridges or codas, it will still take months to dive into every piece of instrumentation.

A Certain Trigger is a strong release from its opener on, though it has noticeable shifts in momentum, with a second, rousing tour de force in its closing tracks.

With its mind-blowing dynamics and wounded memories, bandaged up in affecting, mature lyrics that dissect relationships with a therapist's perspective, the wisdom of hindsight and an artist's touch, Let's Build A Fire is almost flawless.

It is certainly fun discovering each new twist and turn on One Way, It’s Every Way, and Clue to Kalo have created a great album to get lost in.

This will definitely please the archivist fan of Cave and the Bad Seeds and intrigue everyone else. [Avg of grades of 7, 8, and 9 for the three discs.]

Although the mid-record change in direction provides breathing space, it begs the question whether the album was truly in need of any.

Thomas' craft is tremendous for a newcomer, especially in an indie-rock moment that needs it.

A sprawling tour de force... It overwhelms you with its brawny rhythms, its artful arrangements and foggy atmosphere, and its thrilling instrumentation.

In a career full of perfect miniatures, Mountain Battles might actually be the Deals' best. It's certainly their most even-flowing.

So when Era Vulgaris comes as a bit of a disappointment, well, that's all relative, since it still rocks mightily.

Despite it’s pitfalls, Mo' Mega has great entertainment value.

From start to finish the album is well balanced and well fueled, and while it isn't quite the total package it is certainly a step in the right direction.

Garden Ruin is good, but there are a bazillion alt-country Coors rockers who could pull this off, and coming from an outfit with such a remarkable past body of work it is a disappointment.

Song by song, all of it melts into your head, relentless, narcotic and detached, yet ultimately positive.

While Ringer may not be his most towering achievement, his expert navigation of yet another new world of sound maintains the (hopefully) growing belief that for better or worse, a Four Tet release is always an interesting and rewarding listen (at the very least).

This is rousing pop distilled down to its molecular structure, executed with confidence.

Smalldone's solemn and controlled croon, though subtly emotive, amounts to dismal verbosity. The Red River is a serious, introspective project that, like the narrating wanderer, shows no signs of its roots.

If you’re looking for music to make heartfelt love or fall asleep to, this here’s your record.

Their trademark wit is still present but less forced; instead it is more intelligent and reflective, and as the band produced this album themselves, the reward is apparent: they sound more self-assured and strong than they ever have.

Bolstered by the sound of a full band, with Heretic Pride Darnielle has created one of his best releases yet.

Everybody might be less than lustrous in their own catalog but tops most group's bests.

Challengers stacks up against the pillar of "Twin Cinema" just fine; it is the more restrained of the two, equally as satisfying, and more stylistically varied.

It's only now though that Patton's fully manifested his passion project minus the avant-garde overlay--and ironically scoring an unheard-of #2 debut on the Billboard classical chart in the process, possibly the strangest highlight yet of a strange talent's career.

If this is Lytle’s last musical missive, he’s left us with a complete, if unfocused, dossier of his genius.

Real Close Ones will likely leave listeners dumbfounded, but the album should nonetheless be lauded for its break from convention.

I'm prepared to defend this as hip hop's frontrunner for best album of 2007 thus far.

While the Raveonettes do little to shake things up on Control, they still have the unique and eerie ability to sugarcoat the most serious of songs with their infectious brand of music.

These songs are gorgeous and the band knows how to milk the beauty for all it's worth.

The one unique thing about Stewart's lyrical style (a sort of homage of shallow, U.S. suburban vernacular that paints a very specific picture to those of us from the suburbs) seems to be missing on Dear God, I Hate Myself. Sure, maybe it's even tongue-in-cheek, but I sure hope he's not joking.

Folky, orchestral indie-pop that's surprisingly effervescent and hopeful.

It is clear Holopaw know how to unearth beauty when grounded in the harshness of reality; they also have the wisdom to leave the indisputably beautiful moments just as they found them: ready and able to elevate the soul.

I can't remember the last time a popular punk album sounded this simple, lean and ready to conquer anything in its path.

The Rapture sound amazingly fresh right now.

In a way, re-releasing brand new material automatically canonizes it. You Are the Quarry received moderate praise, but listening to Live at Earls Court, you’d think his latest songs were some of his best, sitting comfortably next to Smiths classics like “Big Mouth Strikes Again.”

When the Going Gets Dark taps into a new kind of power for Quasi, giving them the opportunity and ambition to skronk and smash.

Once through, we realize Ideal Lives does not feel unified, which is exactly what makes it so interesting but also so difficult to fully embrace.

It's good to hear our man Aes no longer forgoing pleasure in the pursuit of ambition.

Asking For Flowers is the work of a musician freshly settled in to the rhythm of her creative seas, and from here it is the horizon where her true potential shines.

Archer and friends deserve praise for making an album so rooted in its locale so appealing to a wider audience due to the never-ending amount of catchy hooks and melodies on display on Stars Of CCTV.

Catastrophe Keeps Us Together is the most Rainer Maria has sounded like themselves since the Atlantic EP and is more daring than we could have hoped.

They have blended the sensitivity of classical and the sensibility of rock into something far greater than post-rock.

With Living Well, Rob Crow has created some of his finest work.

Aha Shake Heartbreak surpasses the previous record by leaps and bounds; it is a triumph over the dreaded sophomore slump as much as it is a worthy feat in and of itself.

Mr. Beast is by far Mogwai’s most accessible album to date, teetering between epic hard rock and a melodic, driven vocal delivery.

Here Come the Tears fits nicely in Anderson and Butler's catalogs and certainly beats anything they've done in the last five years, but it makes matters clear that all they'll ever do is release clones of what they once were.

For every hit, there exists a miss.

It's Frightening kicks into high gear from the get-go, and never looks back.

Far removed from the desolation I feel surrounded by, Land of Talk's first full-length album's sense of hope, grounded in realism, is at once reassuring and encouraging.

Despite the similitude of both discs, their respective modesty and muscularity present variety without overreaching. To put it into trite punny terms, Well has some depth.

Ladd’s drive and focus throughout the entire album keeps the listener’s ear, as each moment is unexpected, even after multiple listens.

Darkness at Noon is the most exciting record to be put out this semester.

The best part is that nothing feels forced or overtly formulated; every bout of vocal scatting, jazzy electric guitar coloring and organ chord arrangement seems to be the product of gradual mixing sessions.

Decent and decadent, Good Apollo is still ultimately the least of the band’s 3 full lengths. It continues the band’s tradition for experimentation, with melodies breaking through the chaos but it is less successful and equally disappointing with no new tricks.

Everything goes smoothly on In the Clear, with no real highs or lows, so to speak, and as such it unrolls without much fanfare or energy.

What it lacks in standouts it makes up for in atmosphere and starkness.

It's a shame if Dark Night of the Soul ends up relegated to a cult souvenir; it's truly exceptional as music.

An hour or so later I finally succumbed to my bed, content. I can only imagine Riceboy does so in kind.

Lost Channels is still comforting, except now instead of misery finding company, Great Lake Swimmers have made an album that reaches down, and pulls you out of the darkness and into the light that was always there.

A well-rounded and passable product, both old fans and newcomers to They Might Be Giants will like this release.

Cansei De Ser Sexy is an intriguing group with a lot of budding talent and real potential.

Intricate and ever-changing in style, The Sea and Cake give further proof why they've had such staying power.

Casting off songs entirely for 17 parts that to their cult make a sum, I was sure this would be the one where I could finally take my other foot off the doorstop....[But] the fresh voices and staged character interplay keep Meloy's pretensions from boiling over, and loathe as I am to admit, two of the four title tracks culminate in something like hooks.

The album can be charming and downright catchy at times and, depending on your present mood, that may be just good enough.

Rollie has yet to find his voice, though.

It may seem disappointing to those looking for further progress in one of the best American bands of recent times, but in the end it all comes down to the songs, and most of the ones here are little gems, perfect for a summer morning.

When they hit even small strides, like the album's murky single 'Gila,' the relief is like a breath of ocean air. Otherwise, for the most part, the admittedly pretty songs simply fade away, like footprints in the sand.

8 Diagrams is intricate, inoffensive, interesting.

Getting used to the lethargic pace of Beach House takes some doing, but it's well worth the effort.

Futures is the sound of a band playing it safe.

Its precision in sound and spirit can’t be denied; Under A Billion Suns is a triumphant, wild mess.

The songs are emotive, and yet have catchy hooks; they are at times unrestrained and at others, calculated.

Numbers tout themselves as a dance-punk outfit, but they won’t get you on the dance floor anytime soon.

Ben Gibbard has shown growth which each successive release, and made the jump to hooky pop-songsmith with the Postal Service's (apparently) one-off collaboration, but Narrow Stairs feels stagnant, devoid of even the superficial pleasures present on Plans.

The album embodies the highlights of the band's past work, and is imbued with the progressiveness that has made each successive Ladytron release a step above its predecessor.