It is immediately more slanted than their standard fare - incorporating electronic elements and seething mystery at times - but it still sounds like Teenage Fanclub, which is, on all counts, a thoroughly good thing.

Get Behind Me Satan is the first White Stripes album that sputters because it’s the first White Stripes album that tries to sell their image instead of their music.

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.

A River Ain’t Too Much To Love has more in common with great books than it does with great rock albums; it’s intelligent, introspective, sensitive and best experienced in a very quiet place.

It boasts the asset of versatility, possessing the buoyancy and charisma of a distinguishable party album whilst remaining resistant to the usual temptations associated with the so-called “lap-pop” tag.

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.

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.

This is the kind of headphone or background music that won’t have you looking to change discs, but won’t distract you from whatever else you’re doing, either.

Less accessible than its eponymous predecessor, it creates a darker, less cartoonish world where hip-hop, brit-rock, electronica and Dennis Hopper monologues all seem perfectly at home.

It is incensed, dark with disappointment, and shows a startling new side to Sleater-Kinney; while its intensity makes it one of their best albums to date, it isn’t here to make friends or fans.

It’s weird, (but not annoyingly so), it’s catchy (but not annoyingly so), and it’s fresh (but not annoyingly so). Face the Truth is the work of a songwriter at his finest hour.

Crimson may not be AK3s best album, but it’s a welcome, mature effort from one of Vagrant’s best bands.

Push Barman To Open Old Wounds is a rare species indeed; though all of the songs could be considered “hits,” the album avoids all of the tackiness associated with greatest hits collections.

The Secret Migration has the power to cast a spell over you with its dreamy, wraithlike keyboards. Many won't fall for it, though, and will undoubtedly find them too melodramatic.

Mixing breeds of folk, psychedelica and white bread hip-hop, Why? is genetically predisposed to the same experimental tendencies as Pavement, Grandaddy, Enon, the Beta Band and They Might Be Giants. Each song is a musical Frankenstein, pieced together with live parts of the bodies of all those acts.

The Nein has done what so many other bands have tried and failed to do. And that is that they've managed to make something so unique and off the wall seem ... well, accessible.

Fun, emotional, experimental-ready and personally uplifting.

The band’s ability to sound unforced, unpretentious, unusual, and most importantly, real, is a breath of fresh air.

Nearly every song comes off as unassuming in its rightful place. Each track has a designed role, and for that reason you won’t need to use the skip button.

Some songs are worth a listen, but the overall package sounds and feels redundant and, putting myself at the mercy of =W= fans everywhere, renders itself irrelevant.

Kidnapped by Neptune... finds an exponential increase in her reach while still relying on some of her time-tested tricks; the results are wryly melodic and never ever boring.

Carousel Waltz is an extremely personal album, sublimely disguised as a sweet bit of pop fluff.

It wouldn't be inconceivable to describe 13 & God as the predictable outcome of a Notwist/Themselves collaboration, but, considering the degree of originality demonstrated, this is by no means a shortcoming.

It’s similar enough to past efforts that one can trace his artistic trajectory with a steady arc, but it’s the point in the arc where the slope takes a radical increase, making the name change seem like an appropriate signifier.

This is it, folks - this is the Go-Betweens album you’ve been waiting since the joyous news of their reunion. Oceans Apart captures the lushness of their earlier works, the separate-yet-complementary songwriting beauty of Forster and McLennan and their ability to paint the doldrums in charming pastels.

This isn’t just Almost Killed Me 2, it’s an exploration of what lies beyond that initial surface – and the truth ain’t pretty.

The Wedding is certainly a new direction in some ways, but it’s still the same brainiac rock that Oneida has been dishing out for the past eight years.

Where Soul Coughing was defying specific genres and pushing norms, Skittish was scaled back, raw; Haughty Melodic is plugged in, not quite as downtrodden and surprisingly accessible.

If you’re looking for a roaring, well-executed good time, look no further: the Ponys are practically peerless.

Further Adventures of Lord Quas is a record that can satisfy the cult fan just as it will sate anyone who has an open mind to music that creates its own barriers.

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.

There is nothing here that pushes past what we expect from New Order in their current incarnation, but it is facile, shiny, bright and well-behaved around strangers.

A masterpiece that celebrates life, in all of its horrific, painful, magical and wondrous glory.

The Mountain Goats find a way to bounce back from the psychiatrist-worthy lyrics with strong, vibrant but subtly crafted compositions.

If you’re looking for a record whose smirk is as intoxicating as its smile, or one that proves that pop doesn’t have to be straight-laced to be delectable, Laughter’s Fifth should be sly enough to sneak its way into your favor.

Where inexperienced programmers might collapse under the weight of such complexity, Autechre utilize it with precision. As punishing as it is, it never sounds too cluttered.

Cinematic and purposefully clumsy, coy and cutesy and sprawling in intermittence, this is music to prance to.

On the whole, The Sunlandic Twins makes almost everything else today seem diluted and stale.

While Sad Songs was immediately arresting, able to knock the wind clean from those who found it, Alligator conjures the same black magic on a broader scale, readying itself to be known beyond those small circles.

Too familiar, too gloomy and too bland.

Neatly cut and effortless in its melodic simplicity.

Here more than ever, the songs come before the samples; while the samples and sounds still accompany everything, they are now more like a third band member than leading player. This gives The Books a newfound depth of subtlety.

Decidedly unremarkable.

Whereas previous efforts spawned a shrouded sadness that sought engagement by keeping a distance, this work squares its shoulders at once, fervent in its desire to have its audience lend an ear for at least a moment.

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

It's hard not to stare in open-mouthed amazement at the sheer brilliance of Black Sheep Boy, though you're trying to clinically dissect all the elements that make it so.

One must realize that this album was created to be fresh but not necessarily edgy. The difference means that the effort is intended to be highly enjoyable but not breakthrough material.

They are not so much copycats as they are skilled apprentices.

The first three-quarters of Beauty and the Beat stands as something to be admired.

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.”

This is a hell of a record.

There is little doubt that Silent Alarm is stellar, worthy of the praise it has received.

It’s amazing to see how the Decemberists have grown. The songs from their first EP, 5 Songs, seem like a man and an acoustic guitar, where Picaresque feels like a full blown orchestra.

Different and perhaps more mature than S.T.R.E.E.T. D.A.D., this recent release from Out Hud measures out a liquid pulse, fervently paying homage to their antecedents and feverishly shaking their asses.

Where Songs for the Deaf found the perfect middle ground between aggressive rocking licks and experimental flourishes, Lullabies falls to the experimental side.

Hill’s disc captures everything that’s easy to hate about Hella.... Seim’s album, on the other hand, is easily the most fully-realized work to bear the Hella name.

Some of the tracks may be fun, but The Best Little Secrets Are Kept is little more than mindlessness parading as innovation.

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.]

Black Dialogue: a hip-hop classic? Maybe not, but pretty damn close.

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

Kaiser Chiefs manage find their footing early on and this success forgives them their meanderings later on the disc.

Superbly imaginative for someone still considered a "lad."

Exquisite Corpse does little to expand upon Daedelus’ aesthetic; it does, however, explore the hip-hop direction that he’s been moving towards in his collaborative work more thoroughly than any of his previous efforts.

Farina and MacKaye have created a delicate and beautiful masterpiece that transcends their punk and post-punk routes.

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

Whoa, is it ever tough, but wow, is it ever great.

It's a brutal record that changes you the same way prison changes a man.

Set Yourself on Fire is a release of unexpected dimensions.

Although they do show some potential, the Capitol Years do not rightfully deserve the hype they are getting.

The album has a mood that runs throughout, unfolding from nothing into something extraordinary.

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.

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.

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.

Texture and detail separte M. Ward from other solo singer-guitarists, but his general songwriting formula is what gets him to the peak of exceptional list in the first place.

There is a feeling of being sucked into a mid-90s vortex here.

Heart Like a River takes you on a journey, and does not leave until every sight is seen and pathway is walked.

The album is a whole effort, not just one or two overachieving songs that make the entire thing seem better than it really is. Along with Brazilian Girls, one of this year’s hotter electronic releases.

Woman King is a brief and yet satisfying taste for what Iron & Wine is all about.

This is, by no means, Mogwai’s finest hour, but Government Commissions deserves praise for its proof positive of the consistent quality of the band.

There are enough interesting things going on throughout the album to keep it fresh for several listens.

If you like intelligent song writing with killer sing-along choruses, then you desperately need this album.

There is sort of a standard formula from song to song within this album.... They need to vary it up just a touch.

While the album fails as a cohesive and sharp sounding endeavor all the way through, it certainly showcases a creative effort that can’t be faulted.

Every song here, on both discs, is interesting and amazingly well-crafted.

Although Outside, Closer dwells in cheerless minimalism it is a joy to listen to.

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

The bar has been raised for 2005.

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.

Review #1: As pandering as the lyrics may be, they could be forgiven if the songs still brought the rock, and they don’t. [score=35]; Review #2: Worlds Apart is stunning. [score=95]

14 songs focused intently on melody and chord progressions, not licks or repetitive riffs or tricky drumbeats.

Undoubtedly his best and most credible album to date.

While the album is based around the repetitive choppy hook and big beat, some quiet building moments of the heavy songs lack a sense of creativity and movement towards a real climactic edge.

The Great Destroyer is a masterpiece of emotional tumult.

Though the songs eschew familiar structures, their triumphant, readily accessible moments occur with surprising frequency; multiple hooks litter the lengthier compositions, and the shorter pieces usually contain at least two winsome passages.

Perhaps their best outing yet.

Superwolf is collaboration in the truest sense of the word, and the talents of the two musicians involved feel revitalized and meaningful in ways that they may not have for some time.

Its sagging middle aside, Valende may be one of the stronger psychedelic pop releases to come my way in the last couple of years.

A genre-bowing indie masterpiece as gorgeous as anything released since Sigur Rós’ ( ).