The theme is relatable, and relevant because it encompasses more than that one side of desire we all expect to hear about. This exploration and focus is what held together Eels’ 1998 masterwork, "Electro-Shock Blues." It does the same here.

This one is probably the closest rival to Merriweather Post Pavilion we’ve heard this year.

Very few dance albums are, and in the end, that’s what Phoenix created--a dance album, possibly the most enjoyable one since "Oracular Spectacular."

Monoliths & Dimensions, present O’Malley and Anderson’s sonic murk as something to delve into, their inescapable walls of low-end suddenly beaming with purpose and a million and one instruments.

Harmonium is as sunny and affable for outdoor get-togethers as it is sexified for one’s swinging bachelor pad.

Everything about Arrivals points to it being a landmark release for both post-rock and IDM, two genres that seem to be well past their prime.

Now he's making albums about recovering from addiction, sounding worn out and uninspired. Dude needs to find a muse or something.

It’s Frightening isn’t a bad album in its own right. There are certainly worse things than making a record that’s frequently catchy but not terribly exciting.

Initial listens may lead you to believe it’s a little non-descript, but there’s reward in perseverance.

Yesterday and Today is a brilliant sequel, one that retains the strongest elements of its predecessor whilst bravely pushing forward into new territory.

If the new direction disappoints some old fans, though, it’s hard to escape the fact that Vanderslice is an original songwriter with a vision for his material, even if that vision isn’t clear.

Melodic pop-punk is the point, after all, and on that level it’s a success. Even with a muddled message, credit is due for the ambition it takes to vent these modern frustrations and break free from the shackles of verse-chorus-verse.

There’s an unshakeable feeling that they’re going through the motions a bit too frequently and that this represents a step backwards for a once fresh and exciting band. Unfortunately, it seems the curse of the third album may have struck again.

If this was a band’s debut album, it would be a nice, pleasant first shot. But with the knowledge of what came before, too much of it sounds toothless or neutered.

As with The American Analog Set, the music here is too quiet and specific to appeal to all, but I don’t think this is a bad thing.

Bricolage is as a sometimes fun but mostly ambitionless and unnecessary project.

Quite eponymously, the album is a grand performance, and one whose stagecraft is the sole work of a brilliant ringmaster in Clark.

Cream is a victim of the times, no more than a mere face in a pop culture marketplace crowded with sexual aggrandizing and salacious controversy. The kind of antics Peaches has built her career on--pushing and pulling at the accepted boundaries, tongue-in-cheek shock value--are now a common rite of passage for artists pushing their edgy shtick.

While Outer South may represent a step back from last year’s work, it is perhaps another step forward for Oberst in terms of his evolution as an artist.

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

The lethargic energy of 'Come Down' precedes the smartly sequenced title track and country twanged 'And I Thank You,' Outside Love’s duel highpoints the perfect culmination of its previous output.

As snobbish as that may sound, you have to lose yourself in Wavering Radiant to hear and feel the big picture.

Overstuffed and a little undercooked, Lions suffers from the fact that Hatebreed’s influences aren’t terribly diverse, and many of the short, hard, and fast numbers tend to blend together in a way that won’t appeal to anyone without a working knowledge of the American hardcore canon.

Each track in its own right has nothing inherently wrong with it, but put eleven of them together and it’s all a little one-dimensional.

Colonia has an awful lot of ideas, but doesn’t really know what to do with them and the majority of tracks end up sounding messy and--like the rest of us following Christmas--carrying a little too much extra weight.

Only a few songs ('Beyond Here Lie’s Nothin’,' 'Shake Shake Mama,' and 'I Feel a Change Comin’ On') really jump out of the grooves and the rest sounds like our greatest living songwriter coasting a bit--which is a whole lot better than not giving a shit ("Self Portrait") or flailing around aimlessly (pick an 80s record).

Due to awkward, clunky sequencing, Dark Days/Light Years takes longer to reveal its charms than maybe it should. Despite this, it’s still a marvellous record and evidence that despite their increasing years, Super Furry Animals are a long way from being out of ideas.

Art Brut vs. Satan is somewhere in the middle; good enough to be worth a couple of listens but enough bad at times to frustrate and make you wonder what might have been.