Some of these feel like scraps and sketches, others like the B-sides they are--which is fine when the scraps are this frequently exciting--but given the range of his output so far, what would be most satisfying would be to get a glimpse of where MacLean's heading next.

For all its movement, GLAQJO XAACSSO feels a little frozen.

While it sounds like it was taken from the same creative burst that birthed London producer Zomby's recent LP Dedication, here that album's glum funereality gets an almost dance-friendly makeover.

Polymers isn't a total overhaul from the taut and punishing Travels, but it does dial back tempos and lean far more heavily on blaring arcade synthesizers.

Siamese Dream's songs don't blend into each other, but some transitions exist; each stands out in a brilliant sequence, forming perhaps the best concept album they ever made.

Taking the greatest-hits route through Gorillaz's career, it's impressive how few of the tracks sound dated.

These two releases [Gish and Siamese Dream] still resonate, as both a nostalgia fix underscoring how it was so easy to fall for Smashing Pumpkins in the first place, and as the best introductions to their music any newcomer could want.

Dive might not be the most ambitious instrumental record you hear all year, but it almost always sounds good.

Such dedication to an aesthetic means Far Side Virtual gets a little tedious: It's 16 songs that aren't all that catchy but aren't exactly ambient either.

On South Bank--the most vital and essential document of Reid and Hebden's five-year partnership--it feels clear that, at least onstage, they were finally able to go the distance.

There's more movement, more development, more variety; fitting for a trilogy's middle, it's where the sounds get thicker, where the possibilities simply become more intriguing.

Talk That Talk tries too hard to send a more one-dimensional message and ends up falling flat: Rihanna's obviously going for sexy here, but her music's at its most alluring when she's blissed out in her own reverie, not taking the time to spell it all out for us.

Unfortunately, Welcome to Condale is stylistically all over the place and, despite its generally upbeat tone, kind of a drag to listen to.

His admirers will find this record beautiful in the strangest places, while his detractors might choose to see its occasional impenetrable gloom as a kind of desertion in itself.

Bliss is eerie because it takes the seduction of those forms and turns it slightly askew; there's something unsettling about the musical equivalent of a permanent smile.

It's short and intense, and accordingly it hits hard and leaves enough of a lasting bruise on you that you can't help but touch it, just to feel the pain again.

In its pinnacles and pitfalls, Schlungs confirms that, even if the results can be cute, communicating with humans is usually the least impressive talent any alien has.

There are a few moments when all the backward glancing becomes a bit heavy-handed, but in their most inspired moments, Blouse find the connection between the limits of outdated technology and the terrible bliss of desiring something impermanent.

New York duo Sepalcure nimbly incorporate current trends but arrive at a sound-- politely mysterious rhythms put to life by haunted vocal samples-- that's familiar and rich.

Short blasts of distortion leave their mark throughout the album, guitar tones evoking the image of exploding paint cans in a mid-size room, adding to the unruly spirit of the band's albums and live sets.

Basically, this is exciting, skilled, fist-pumping, true-to-life stuff made by good-seeming guys who, in the end, aren't afraid to laugh, goof around, or make fun of themselves.

The record also feels like an important moment in time marked on a door frame--it's an intriguing peek into the restless, youthful development of King Krule.

It might be just a mix CD, but Scuba's DJ-Kicks is a landmark both personal and scene-wide.

In his own dogged, idiosyncratic way, he's keeping a neglected strain of dance music alive here, and while the joys are subtle, the more attention you give the mix, the deeper they feel.

Her best music, this album included, has the effect of putting one in the kind of treasured, child-like space--not so much innocent as open to imagination--that never gets old.

It's not clear what Tanton wanted this album to be... It's a loose collection of whims and desires, unrolled over vast expanses of terrain that Tanton could survey for a while to see how they fit.

It's an album of quiet excellence, one that aims to soundtrack your most idle thoughts while romantically demanding your attention.

The Beets' newfound focus on recording quality could have easily highlighted shortcomings, but instead, the band found a way to broaden its sound by recruiting a member who exponentially adds to its worth.