It’s a pop record, a history lesson and--for those uninitiated in the funky UK house tradition--a gateway drug all in one.

No sophomore slumping here.

Whitehorse's sophomore effort signals that this is one musical marriage that's only getting better with time.

he band has already built a mystique with their live show (frontwoman Jehnny Beth’s penetrating glare and righteous wail transfixed a packed Horseshoe Tavern at this year’s CMW), but Silence Yourself proves they’ve got the songs to back it up.

They're all talented musicians, so it's actually a pleasure to hear them go off on the occasional jazz fusion tangent, which they approach with the raw enthusiasm of a garage-punk band (except that they sound closer to King Crimson).

The album also hints at bossa nova and jazz but never abandons the post-rock sounds that are the band's forte. The most inviting Mice Parade effort to date.

The hype has reached a dangerous level. Which makes it oh so sweet that Sore delivers.

It is a strikingly unique take on soul music in a year when there's a lot of competition from other R&B artists pushing the genre's boundaries.

Musically, it’s quiet and reserved, making for a subtle but satisfying listen.

Lamar is as cutting as ever in his rhymes, and adjusts his flow to great effect.

While the record is a solid listen front to back, standout moments include 'Princes,' which features Ghana-London rapper Tinchy Stryder, and the breathless vocals on the ghostly 'House Jam.' Watch for this album to pop up all over year-end best-of lists next month.

If you’re not up on that stuff, Microcastle may seem like a more impressive creative breakthrough than it actually is, which could explain the gushy reviews.

Like many of Romano's meticulous creations, it possesses all the hallmarks of a classic: a compelling, twisting narrative that bends the music to its shape.

The Owl City duet is a bit of a misstep, as is the Justin Bieber collaboration, but two just okay songs and 14 great ones is better than most acts can manage on their greatest hits packages, let alone their second album.

Even though the chords are minor and the mood sombre, there’s something pure, clean and uncluttered about the record that prevents it from being altogether sad. It breathes.

A smooth and beautiful listen.

Converge create art-school hardcore while still delivering on metal’s basest needs.

RJ puts aside his cinematic loops to deliver his roughest and toughest beats, over which Blueprint spits the party and bullshit blues like a man watching his most celebrated contempories fiddle with iced-out jewellery while their country burns before their eyes.

While it doesn't mine new territory, Restarter is the sound of Torche getting comfortable and digging in their heels.

There might not be any outright smash hits ready for radio and curated streaming playlists, but it’s a well-paced album with strong replay value. Cole doesn’t sacrifice any inch of rhythm or melody while detailing his cautionary tales.

The Empyrean, is an engaging collection of brilliant soundscapes, fancy guitar work and some intriguing electronica flourishes.

Classic unrequited love song, and Karshøj sells it so well with her sultry authenticity, you’ll swear you’re in the throes of heartbreak, too.

On their ninth studio album, the veteran Philly crew adds indie rock to its formula, and after two straight downer albums, it has them sounding positively re-energized.

With its haunting risks that resonate, Love Remains is a perfect fall record.

All in all, a bewitchingly beautiful debut.

There is something especially poignant and inspired about his 12th studio album.

Every element is given space to shine--a nice break from the overproduced bedroom-recording sound that's become standard in indie rock.

The middle lags a bit, but that’s forgotten when ninth song Cold brings the breakup album home with simple piano and Brooks’s wounded singing.