A Sunny Day in Glasgow have shown that no sea is big enough to slow unabashed creativity--in fact, the sea seems less absent and quite fruitful in their case.

It’s as though Dacus’s best parts have been filtered through a focus group--just imagine what it could have been with the patina scraped off.

Granted, the band's debased, arhythmic songwriting sounds a little obnoxious, if deliberately so, but they sure know how to translate their disarray into compelling expressionist noise.

The result is easily one of the more intriguing and overlooked releases of 2009, and an infinitely disturbing meld of visceral semblance and quiet complexity.

Even with today's technology, harvesting emotions as such is perplexing and strenuous. But Kirby does it with a special kind of grace.

THE FILM is a showcase of intensity: SUMAC ably matches that of Irreversible Entanglements via alternate delivery, while Ayewa’s passion and spoken outbursts meet Aaron Turner’s guttural howl. Looking at the essence of both entities and their respective creative signatures, it’s somehow both remarkable and obvious how natural each of them sound together on this LP.

It is precisely due to the band’s finesse that It’s Blitz! is so refreshing, despite being an old sound wrapped in glitter veneer.

His manipulations have gotten more patient, his sketches have become full tunes, and half-obscured melodies have received a lighting from the lamps.

Listening to it can be exhaustive, particularly during its clumsier second half, in which the narratives are duller (particularly Dossier), the musical progressions more stagnant (422). It’s undeniable, though, that this is a very original, fruitful record

What I find so satisfying with this album, is how Four Tet envisions the lushness of a song, and sonically creates a buoyant, lighthearted blend--a complete album for the lively and lighthearted.

There is no doubt that it takes several cycles through the album for things to start to click. That’s if you find yourself willing to give in to the album’s concepts and approach.

Brothers doesn’t break new ground for the band, but it continues to affirm the band’s soul, further demonstrating the unlimited power of blues music.

Stephan Babcock is a determined performer, and his bandmates are suitable harmonizers, but even at a tight 30-minutes the album’s lack of strong melodic direction quickly turns tiresome with its stilted, colorless sonic onslaught.

A stunning collection of songs, in the grand Brit-pop tradition.

Regardless of classification, Japandroids have created something pure, something without pretense and without any concern for how smart or cool they will sound.

Chelsea Wolfe captured the essence of the album title eloquently, succeeding in making an album that is frighteningly honest, poignant, and graceful.

The result, when it flows, is music that verges on the transcendent.

Ha Ha Sound is occasionally brilliant, often adequate and, on some tracks, so bizarrely irritating that the mind boggles at who Broadcast imagine would actually be interested in hearing them. So, in summation, an almost essential album of largely inessential tracks.

The Horrors instead set out to redefine the band and its purpose, their second album an exciting result.

What it lacks in polish it all but makes up for in immediacy—and lots and lots of raw power. She didn't just get out of a potentially sticky situation; she thrived and found a way to turn it into an advantage with great songwriting panache.

It’s a heavy, at times uncomfortable listen, but one that feels intensely relatable. It finds strength in the somber and the morose by paining it in bright colors and wonderful riff work. Once you’re drawn in, you won’t want to turn away, no matter how dark the journey becomes.

What makes Beware the Dogs such a fun and engaging listen is how Donnelly expresses her opinions with such imperfect candor. There's not a second where you doubt that she's not amusing herself, relishing the creative side in her intimate space with her tongue firmly in cheek.

Matching thoughtful lyricism with heightened arrangements, they're building on what they've learned, and all their efforts are clicking at the right time.

Love Remains has no established coherence, disrespects the meaning of creating a full length from scratch by (reworking?) rehashing material, and frankly, relies too much on Krell's scorching falsettos.

The overall effect is pristine and seamless, and the work of a supremely talented composer and producer.

The Next Day is the best Bowie album in 33 years, but it’s perfectly reasonable to not even call it a top 10 Bowie album.

[Banga] may be the songstress's most ambitious statement yet.

Holy Ghost just resonates because it’s so deeply felt and passionate--with hardly a wasted moment throughout its brisk 28 minutes--to such a degree that it’s easy to dismiss its songwriting flaws.