With its simple riff and typically anthemic chorus, the immediately indelible "The Birthday Democrats" amply proves that Pollard's unprecedented creative spark shows no signs of going dark. The rest of How Do You Spell Heaven confirms that notion. [No. 145, p.55]

It's the sound of Griffin at an intriguing crossroads. [No. 104, p.56]

{Awayland} is far more confident than 2010's Becoming A Jackal, its vision more ambitious, its poetry more conflicted, its melodies more complex, its execution more polished. [No. 98, p.61]

Williams’ themes here aren’t new for her—love lost and found, mortality, the struggle to get right with God. But thanks to Frisell especially, the settings for Williams’ cracked, world-weary voice and vivid songwriting are indeed new. [No. 128, p.60]

A sameness of style makes things feel a little redundant, but taken in discreet portions, these tunes are unimpeachable. [No.92 p.55]

Somewhere beautiful documents a fantastic 20-song set by this long-adored, seminal New Zealand band that makes you wish you'd been invited to the bash. [No. 104, p.53]

He's created a burbling paint pot of a record, one teeming with ideas, styles and reference points as diverse as Double Nickels On The Dime, but wholly recognizable as Tweedy-esque. [No. 113, p.60]

Though there’s nothing too saccharine on Emotional Mugger (even the line “I want your candy” on “Breakfast Eggs” is more of a threat than a statement of desire), the melodies are some of the strongest Segall has ever turned out. [No. 128, p.56]

Buffalo Tom provides a warm blanket on a cold, dark night of the soul. [No. 150, p.51]

The dramatic new music made by Bobby Womack - a true survivor - is an important listening session for any serious music lover. [No.89, p.60]

The album preserves--even perfects--the spirit of its delirious debut, while fashioning something even bigger: brighter, tighter, better, more. [No. 95, p.55]

Freedom ultimately finds cohesion in Refused's continuing mission to punish your ears, move your feet and rage against the Man. [No. 122, p.58]

Most of these 10 songs in 40 minutes are lovely, peaking on one of her sexiest tunes, crunchy wedding toast "Love U 4ever." [No. 111, p.51]

It's Newman's ability to paint such a scene [narrator's wife, on her deathbed, defending him against their concerned and/or churlish offspring] with humor, affection and honest humanity that makes his albums so thoroughly worth the wait. [No. 145, p.60]

Even second-tier tunes (by comparison)--like the silly "I Love Kangaroos"--are indelible. [No. 150, p.54]

His voice wafting in as it from across some great, wide divide, he drapes heavy-lidded seductions and portending cautionary tales over several decades of occultish folk, ritualistic rhythm and acoustic blues, from Bron-Y-Aur stomps to paralyzed lullabies. [No. 101, p.51]

The genre's sonic touchstones are still mostly intact here, but More Faithful is full of unexpected turns. [No. 122, p.59]

More than enough to make this probably the finest dance-party record this summer will have to offer. [No. 121, p.55]

This is a soul singer's album all the way.... And it's a happy throwback in other ways, too. [No. 122, p.57]

Its palette remains expansive. [No. 123, p.61]

It's his best work to date. [No. 109, p.61]

A thoughtful pop aesthetic that few others even shoot for. [No. 101, p.55]

The Wasted Years finds Fish polishing his legacy with work resembling what Syd Barrett might've sounded like if his voice was closer to cross-tops than sugar cubes. Revisiting these years is the sound of some of our undergraduate degrees. [No. 148, p.57]

Historian is another triumph. [No. 150, p.51]

[A] gorgeous concert recording. [No. 111, p.54]

The best cuts here happen to be those hewing closer to Major Lazer's wake-and-bake dancehall origins. [No. 121, p.57]

Morris sounds even more infuriated than he did 34 years ago on Black Flag's Nervous Breakdown. [No.87 p.57]

As potent and timely as anything it released during the Reagan era. [#64, p.83]