These are love songs with sharp edges that keep the sweetness mysterious.

Yours To Keep is kinda like an entire disc of that Lust For Life riff. Fun but a bit flat.

When you listen to these gloomy trip-hop jams after their best work of the 90s, the results are underwhelming.

It kind of sounds like classic AM radio interpreted by a very strange garage rock band.

Naturally, the interpretations go beyond mere homage as Marshall uses her mysterious Cat Power skills to channel the spirits of the singers who inspired her, with mixed results.

This is a sparse, minimal and unassuming record that's unlikely to hit anyone over the head with its innovation, but Gonzalez accomplishes much while sounding like he's doing very little.

Pants wraps everything effectively in a dreamy fizziness that softens some of the stranger dark edges, but he doesn't hide his increasing interest in pop song construction.

It lacks the lyrical wisdom and emotional insight we might expect from a band that's been around so long, but you have to admire their fearlessness about tackling such an out-of-character genre and their ability to keep penning such joyous melodies.

This is background music for a mundane clerical job at Medieval Times or cash duties at a fantasy sword store. But why not just pick up an old Jethro Tull record?

The result often sounds claustrophobic, though it's also much fuller than Soft Moon's earlier work.

If the English art-school psychedelic trio had been able to keep up that momentum, their third album would be a solid one. Instead, they stumble and disappoint.

Sure, it's bloated and loaded with overreaching, pretentious lyrics, but it wouldn't be the Pumpkins otherwise.

There's still some banjo-pickin' and fiddle-playing, but The Long Way's clean, soft-rockin' vibe is striking in contrast to the traditional bluegrassy leanings of 2002's Home.

Estella and guitarist/singer Eric Cardona trade quirky elocution and harmonies with twinkling, twangy arrangements that toe the fine line between charming and cutesy.

It’s a masterpiece of uneasy listening but would be a lot more digestible had it been trimmed to a manageable length.

Their well-honed flamboyance has finally given way to full-blown pretension, the lyrics that used to be an afterthought hidden behind a painfully contrived yet musically unimpressive ragtimey veneer of muted trumpets, shoo-bop, shoo-wahs and happily jingling vaudeville pianas.

Treading territory similar to Wilco's and working with producer Thom Monahan, they layer drum machine, vintage keyboard, organs and strings atop acoustic folk-rock textures and Cabic's soothing vocals.

A fairly satisfying collection of disposable pop R&B.

The real triumphs come when beats make unexpected appearances, bringing to mind the left-field electronic music that his new label, Warp, was once revered for. Makes you wonder what Eno would come up with if he ventured into techno.

The album is executed slickly enough that this lack of cohesion isn't a huge problem. The goofy lyrics, though, owe too much to the hippy-dippy era.

The results are exactly what fans of either act would hope for and a pleasant surprise for those who'd given up on both of them.

At her best, Sumie evokes the poeticism of Joni paired with the headiness of Mazzy Star. But given the songs’ lack of variation in tone and tempo, an EP might have offered a more focused introduction.

Irglová’s sophomore release, Muna (Icelandic for “to remember”), still has a delicate, emotive touch, though the overly sombre approach to her cinematic folk tunes makes for a somewhat unvaried listen over 51 minutes.

Working again with pop Svengali Richard Gottehrer and the Raveonettes’ Sune Rose Wagner, DDG find a nice middle ground between their signature detachment and a classic pop sensibility.

It’s a limited palette to be sure, but they do it well. However, cutting out a few songs would have made a stronger statement if they’re going to follow such a tight formula and narrow range of influences.

Accompanying his gruff voice with a bleary-eyed strum, he's probably more potent and alive on Serenade than many would expect.

Jungle’s core members, childhood best friends Josh and Tom, make well-balanced dance tunes--lush, but with plenty of breathing space between slow builds and feverish climaxes.

EX is a proper album of all-new material--composed specifically for that iconic space--and features some of the best work of his career.