Mostly it is simply an impressively touching and intensely human affair--right now, it seems, nobody does melancholy quite like Girls.

Ghost Blonde brings a glimmer of hope to those who feel that noise has remained stagnant, past overdue its last hurrah. As these set of songs pinpoints, there's still plenty to discover in a genre that has always shown itself as deviously minimal.

Tao of the Dead finally channel their indulgences, creating a heroic symphony that sounds wholly constructed.

People Problems is something the band can be proud of, and it's a great point to move forward from. It's not a breathtaking album, but in the end, it doesn't need to be.

With Stay Home we not only get that genuine approach, but we get songwriting that's been notched up a bit. That alone is worth the cost of admission: The Beets are clearly good songwriters, even if they do happen to get their feet a bit muddy when they stray off the well-beaten path.

Yeah, Minks has churned out an enjoyable full-length debut, but there's an ever-present possibility that it'll get lost in the mess--much like the standout moments on By the Hedge, there's always a haziness enveloping everything like a dense fog.

When an album's main faults are that its too upbeat and lyrically too ambitious, it really is one that deserves to be talked about.

As it stands, Deerhoof seems to have lost its footing a bit with this one.

City Of Refuge is an album which manages to be raw yet transcendental and simple yet layered. Inquisitive ears should find plenty of interest here.

If you're looking for a catchy voice amidst the sea of bedroom outfits, Cloud Nothings is a strong contender for someone to continually keep an ear open for.

Adele and her team have crafted an album that's both full of songs that have the potential to reach the upper reaches of the charts, and also a collection of songs that hang together as an album.

It's got a great tonality and texture to it that gives Adams' voice just enough room to rise above it. There are some songs that are right to be outtakes here, they toil that middle ground that Adams can on occasion slip into, and it's when he's at his 'nicest' sounding that often leads to the most uninteresting work.

The anthemic choruses largely remain but are endlessly unsatisfying and constrained. Given the unmistakeably grittier and less atmospheric qualities of this album it was the right to attempt to temper them; I'm just not so sure they pulled it off.

The overall sound may be modest, but in context, will most likely relate with those fortunate enough to live an affluent, fanciful lifestyle.

Digging into Robert Pollard is an invigorating bit of fun, and it's what's made the man a success. By all accounts, Space City Kicks is more of exactly that.

It's laudable that The Decemberists are still prepared to try something different, still prepared to break away from what they're known for. There's a tiny concern that they've lost something which set them apart from the pack, but as long as they're still capable of writing such strong material, they'll retain their deserved reputation.

Is this record the cure to the ails that is the sophomore LP? Yes and no. Yes, it's new and fresh and spilling over with more of their unique brand of high-energy rock; no, as there's some missteps and growth is often traded out for immature jabs.

It ebbs and flows, and in the end, Native Speaker is a satisfying, invigorating listen.

The equivalent of changing radio stations in his more youthful days, Kiss Each Other Clean is the result of Beam uncontrollably turning the radio knob until finding the right tune in his head.

With Arcade Dynamics, a bit of that moral fiber is lost, resulting in a pleasant number of hooks that hone the psychedelic tag a bit too conventionally.

Graceful, inviting, and evocative as ever, Dan Bejar's assembled the necessary parts for an early-year success.

The band stays true to their rhythmic minimalism and bouts of art-infused modernity and Red Barked Tree has a consistency that its predecessor lacked to some extent, though 47 seemed more prone to experimentation and risk.

They're always willing to invest on either side of the coin, driven to earn their place inside the majestic hall.

With Outside, Tapes n' Tapes have it really tough because, frankly, they're questioned by those who originally praised them in the first place.

Lyrically Wake Up The Nation is largely inscrutable, while sonically it remains a shambling and ungainly listen.

Grinderman 2 follows with more of a racket, still the full-throttle guitar-driven rock meant to separate men from boys.

In lengthening the song lengths and trimming the tracklist, No Mas jettisons the spontaneous, off-the-cuff energy that made their debut so incredibly fun.

In many ways, his music is more punk than punk music is nowadays-stripped down completely to only the most basic and bare of instruments, the tiny Kristian Matsson manages to live up to his name as The Tallest Man on Earth.