Cameos from pop princess Kimbra and Bloc Party guitarist Russell Lissack are the delicate icing on Mew's richly satisfying prog/pop cake. [No. 120, p.59]

A howling, blustery, white-knuckle ride that is nothing less than astounding. [No. 119, p.59]

The single-minded pursuit of a sound that was fresh about the time that Melkbelly's members started kindergarten makes for an album that's competently executed but easy to forget. [No. 147, p.55]

Watt's voice may not be quite as preternaturally stunning as that of his partner, Tracey Thorn, but it's eloquent and expressive, and fits beautifully with these 10 unflinching, autumnal ruminations, character sketches, pastoral travelogues and reflections on loss. [No. 109, p.61]

No Wow is mechanical yet sexy, and a soulful, grinding groove is key. [#67, p.102]

Burnt Offering resembles nothing so much as the soundtrack to a '70s exploitation flick. That's no dig. [No. 116, p.55]

Recommended for those who long to hear Radiohead make a post-aughts indie-pop record, A Different Ship is without a doubt one of the most impressive and enjoyable efforts of 2012. [No.87, p.60]

Even in the more sedate moments, there's an underlying insistence that ties the 11-track set together in a typically neat package that sits comfortably and appropriately in one of rock's greatest band catalogs. [No. 141, p.58]

Somber early works by the Cure and Joy Division read like knock-knock jokes by comparison. [#46, p.66]

She once again raises the bar for her personal best... [#50, p.85]

There hasn't been a set of pretenders this convincing since Interpol. [#61, p.107]

While things get a touch unfocused in the final stretch, the Hot Chip chaps are always god for a grandly uplifting closing statement. [No. 115, p.53]

They've managed to write one the hookiest, most satisfying albums of their career. [No. 119, p.53]

LP2 is certainly worthy of standing next to a genre classic. [No. 137, p.53]

I Can Feel You Creep Into My Private Life is merely very good. [No. 150, p.55]

On par, quality-wise, with the triumph that was last year's Stereo/Mono. [#61, p.110]

The sound is more polished than the old bedroom-pop days, but four albums in, it is getting a little same-y. [No.87, p.52]

With two exceptions, he avoids the obvious hits, choosing to shine a light on Haggard's often downhearted love songs with arrangements that avoid country-music conventions. [No. 143, p.55]

II is looser and fuzzier than its predecessor.... one of 2015's standout records. [No. 120, p.56]

Seeds finds an adventurous art-rock band embracing accessibility. [No. 116, p.60]

Gone are the moments of meditative brooding that made up much of Quarter, replaced here by a bold, tenacious resolve across eight taut, meticulously detailed tracks. [No. 133, p.59]

The fantasy and the fantastic continue, and his soft sculptural Dadaist lyrical sense of romance will always go with DevBan's trembling, lilting melodies like cheese and chocolate. [No. 136, p.53]

Traversing this much musical terrain without a hitch is reason to believe it's showtime for the Apollo. [#69, p.86]

It's yet another solid Lanegan album, although it lacks the harrowing edge of 2004's Bubblegum or the lascivious humor of his collaboration with Isobel Campbell. [No. 114, p.59]

His best since 2001's The World Won't End. [#73, p.104]

The entire thing was tracked in just four days, and the pent-up, wind-tunnel sound and throat-shredding vocal runs that drive its 11 tracks reflect a renewed sense of urgency. [No. 133, p.61]

Tortoise makes like Herbie Hancock wandering through the '80s, all lost at the jazz-fusion supermarket. [#49, p.95]

At its best, Bewilderbeast promises pastoral beauty.... At its worst, the album's faux-jazz workouts, painful disco homage, sappy ballads and pointless instrumentals stretch a decent EP into a bloated, hour-plus opus. [#47, p.84]