One of the best hip-hop records of 2013.

His greatest strength is his storytelling: lyrics are never expected or trite, not annoyingly inscrutable but just obscure enough to be intriguing.

Iz and Bobby Avila (aka the Avila Brothers) produced and co-wrote the bulk of the tracks, and those are the most successful. It would have been smarter, though, to use them for the whole album, as the smattering of generic blues jams and guest showcases seem tacked on and out of place.

Smith Westerns have proven themselves adept chameleons and excel in their new style. It’s just tough not to miss the old one.

He’s a competent emcee, especially when speaking about the struggles of young African Americans, but he’s in need of a good producer to rein him in.

The songs aren’t as lyrically cheesy as Kroeger and Co., not as overtly retro as the Sheepdogs, more fun than Theory of a Deadman and most interesting – by far--when harnessing prog rock, as on The Giant. Too bad the latter only happens once.

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

It’s a nice record, just not a great one, though it seems like the kind of thing that’ll age gracefully.

The more nuanced approach is less immediate but stands up better to repeated listens.

Yeezus isn’t his masterpiece, but it's an integral piece of an eclectic collection that will one day provide a window to an artist who will either become an insane Howard Hughesian eccentric or mellow into reality TV Kardashian fatherdom.

Like his debut disc, Cole World, Born Sinner displays an astute understanding of the male-female dynamic--or at least his contributions to the demise of his relationships.

Where the band’s double-drum rhythm section was once their most forceful sound, here it’s just another element in an impressively rich palette.

All their hallmarks (choral crescendos, swooping melodies and stately horns) and a few curveballs (The xx-esque 4/4 beat on Yfirbor∂) are present, but the songs reach their emotional climax quickly.

Frontman Bobby Gillespie’s lyrics still don’t sound as effortlessly cool as his breathy delivery (see Culturecide), but it feels like the band is back on the pulse of something.

You can spend hours dismantling Sunbather and cooking up a neat sub-sub-genre for it (post-black-metal-gaze-death-dreamcore-whatever). Or you can just call it one of the year’s best records.

Short of pumping dry ice through your speakers, The Eldritch Dark captures the throbbing, gloomy energy that has long made Blood Ceremony one of the city’s finest live acts.

While the mixtape features strong guest spots from Ab-Soul, Action Bronson and a rare appearance by veteran Twista, none of them overshadow Chance, whose distinctive drawl, rapid-fire delivery and keen ear for experimental beats--ranging from hometown-grown juke to piano jazz--will have a bunch of labels tripping over themselves to sign him.

Occasionally a lick of whimsical Irish poetry sneaks in (Earthly Pleasures), but lyrically O’Brien’s going for something more vague and profound.

The squelchy playfulness in Ewen’s arrangements that marked FBH’s most memorable tunes is now cloistered by cynicism and studiousness.

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.

If neither the lyrics nor bass lines break your heart, you might not have one.

Song for song, however, this is the best QOTSA album in a decade, delivering all the swagger and skew of their greatest work without rehashing it.

The production has a pristine, streamlined quality, with Grant’s vocals high in the mix, so the album’s blend of orchestral and squelchy electronic arrangements mirrors the clarity and grace with which he delivers his crude, self-lacerating ballads.

Dreams In The Rat House isn’t as diverse or ambitious as its predecessor, Sleep Talk, but it shows an increasing ability to balance winsome harmonies, raucous drumming and jangly guitar riffs while maintaining the unvarnished punk quality that makes them irresistible.

IV Play is a collection of sexy jams that falls somewhere between Usher-type bedroom music and the progressive R&B The-Dream’s great at.

Though there are clear highlights--the druggy, danceable Egypt and the dreamy Anomaly--the album holds together as a larger, unified statement.

Other Life isn’t too polished, which means it will appeal to Savage’s pre-existing cult fan base but not the wider audience it aims for.

Gravez is a unified listen whose influences serve Hooded Fang’s greatest strength: infectious hooks.