Mellow and breezy, Spelled in Bones has “summer record” written all over it, with its warm, gentle pop melodies that would make Paul McCartney proud.

Parish is having fun on this album, and the musicians he’s bonded with enjoy the ride as well.

Despite the somewhat dubious timing of Heavy Rocks' release, there are still some awesome songs to be found here, and the album as a whole acts a great sampler platter of all of Boris' strengths.

This is a heavy-metal record in the classic style, stealing bones from the open graves of Black Sabbath.

Demolished Thoughts is a consistent and strong record all the way through. In the same way Mascis turned his talents effectively to quieter tones, Moore gives us a new perspective on the talents we've seen from him for decades.

We're Animals may not be as mind-boggling as Numbers' 2004 release, In My Mind All the Time, but it merges elements of the precursors to the new wave/post-punk movements with a psychedelic ambiance.

The Dum Dum Girls’ debut, I Will Be, plays like a veritable best-of of current trends in lo-fi rock ‘n' pop. In fact, the disc’s (admittedly exhilarating) fidelity to the budding-but-already-overdone genre nearly weighs it down.

For much of Diaper Island, he hits his sweet spot of raw indie folk-rock, but for others he seems to be bending his personality to fit the demands of guitar noise, instead of the other way around.

The album has no song that truly feels like a single, and thus no particularly strong cuts ground the album.

Highway Companion contains the most clear-eyed and hopeful songs that Petty has written in memory.

Time to Die by itself isn’t a bad album, necessarily, but it’s not even close to the same level as Visiter and what made Dodos different to begin with. I hope that on their fourth album, these guys return to their roots.

Xcel’s production doesn’t stray very far from its R&B and soul influences, but this time it comes without almost any samples, relying sometimes on players from a homebrewed funk band to create clearance-free beats instead. Unfortunately, this new recipe doesn’t always hit the mark, and songs such as “Black Diamonds and Pearls” sound more like smooth jazz than What’s Going On-era Marvin Gaye.

Kicks is less of a cocky triumph, but it still cements 1990s’ position as the torchbearers for no-nonsense Brit-pop.

Twin Sister live up to their advance press here: They're a good band with room to grow, and a couple great songs.

The rest of Wind’s Poem plays out slow, shimmering, and really just classic Phil Elvrum, even if the album’s tone is darker, well produced and generally well executed. But once an experimentalist folk musician, always an experimentalist folk musician, and kudos to Elvrum for experimenting even further outside of the realm.

Not only have Brion’s strings been replaced by an indescribably awkward alt-rock guitar riff and a misplaced drum beat, but Apple’s vocals have lost all of their bite and passion. On Brion’s work, she seemed hungry, ready to get back into it all. Here she retains the emotion that such a talented singer can muster on a good day but none of the rawness that signifies her best work.

Sure, the albums is filled with grand, sweeping sonic statements, but they seem to come from a place in extremely close proximity to the art-rock icon's heart. That's why it works.

People will fall in love to this music, and Coldplay knows it.

The Lucky Ones shows him to be as reassuringly sarcastic and self-deprecating as ever.

It's rich in talent, even if short on crossover appeal. Tyler is gifted enough to do most anything with his guitar, and he'll move you if you let him.

You won't catch every note, every shift--he's never that transparent. But there's a welcoming feel to this record that makes it resonate longer than any jarring shift could.

Mostly Lee Ranaldo has created a mid-crisis record that sounds more powerful than frustrated, more strong in its beauty than reactionary in its power.

Although Cold Roses can get messy in the way of a quickly made album, it marks a notable improvement on Adams's most recent LP.

The one drawback to Les Liaisons Dangereuses 1960 is that, with the exception of “Light Blue”, its déjà vu nature makes it difficult to distinguish it from Thelonious Monk’s landmark albums.

Sleep Forever distinguishes The Big Sleep as a force in its own right, and it’s a testament to the band’s growth. That--as well as the tracks themselves--make Sleep Forever a pleasure to hear.

It was all too easy to brush aside Turbo Fruits when the band was doing straightforward, blues-tinged punk. Echo Kid makes that less than possible.

Instead of complaining about the soullessness of life under the major-label umbrella, naysayers ought to be examining the band's true aesthetic motivations for taking an earthier, more straightforward approach on The King Is Dead.

Sure, it’s nowhere in the same league as the seminal CrazySexyCool and the innovative concept album FanMail, and the absence of Left Eye--apart from a touching brief posthumous appearance on “Interlude”--is still keenly felt. But there are still a handful of tracks here which can sit comfortably alongside their incredible mid-late 90s canon.

A few tracks here sound less like fully developed songs and more like a college-age kid tinkering with a four-track, but overall, Williams hits more than he misses.

Like every live album ever, this is pretty much for fans only. A newcomer isn't going to learn much from coming in this late, and casual observers won't find anything here they can't get on LCD Soundsystem's studio albums. But as Murphy seems content to head into retirement after this touring cycle, he's entitled to a victory or lap or two.

Taylor doesn't get caught up in making his sounds too big, too large, or too much. He could, but he doesn't. He maintains control, doesn't get lost, and the result are nothing short of terrific.

It's more like easy listening with a funk flare, and, like all easy-listening, there are times when it falls decidedly flat.

Girls are, at their most basic, a solid band of rock ‘n’ roll reappropriators.

Kelis is one of the mainstream's most exciting artists right now, and she continues to defy expectations with Kelis Was Here.

The album is likely to find favor with clubbers looking for downtempo tunes to soundtrack their comedown. But Clayton’s knack for unearthing wildly disparate compositions, and seamlessly melding them together, will likely induce a few smiles in the blissed-out warmth of the post-club hours.

It is totally listenable and, to relay a personal anecdote, sounded highly appropriate at a recent social gathering.

It may not have the knockout highs that Dual Hawks or Flashes and Cables had, but it is just as consistent all the way through.

The free-for-all collective sound can lend the music a cutesy air, but the intensity of the songs rescues the album from juvenility.

This collection of rarities is a window into the mind of a restless but inspired talent. She isn't for everyone, but she is a break from safe.

Paper Tigers proves the Caesars are capable of releasing more than one memorable track.

It has a known start and finish, with a middle that's tied together cleanly enough.

The Blue Depths can be a mesmerizing album to listen to. Tapscott's voice creaks with emotion, haunting these songs with a vital humanity that keeps their cold feel from being mechanical.

Save for the unnecessary interludes, the strength of Press Play is in its ability to employ so many different styles, sounds, influences and mold them into one extremely coherent package.

Show Your Bones is much more accessible than its predecessor, but there isn't really a "Maps" to serve as a gateway.

At times Melted falls into the familiar lo-fi production trap: lack of variety in sound and tempo. However, at its best moments, Melted's songs employ playful riffs and weighty guitars to create textures as varied as the ones in Segall's sweet treat analogy.

It may play a little too closely to everyone's strengths, but in the moments here where those strengths are at full tilt, that's not a bad thing.

Dear God, I Hate Myself packs enough of a wallop that it is worth sitting through some dross to get at the choice bits, which, as is the case with any of the best work by Xiu Xiu, are uncomfortable, uncompromising, and easily hummable.

On this album she proves herself as something more (way more, in fact) than an eternal scenester and competent drummer.

The album's midsection gets bogged down in songs that sound too similar: more lovely piano, more soft cooing, too many gimmicky studio effects.... To Espinoza's credit, he gets Mentor Tormentor back on track.

This tribute has a back-to-the-future quality, a sad wave at a sensibility that has slipped out of our reach: lost, indeed.

Like many of the instrumentals on this record, a New Age gauze covers most of these productions. It may not be every listener's particular cup of tea, but An Album is a dazzling song suite for an autumnal release.

Although it's firmly in the commercial-R&B camp, it's got much more energy than those slickly produced records, and at times, the record's production verges on dirty.

Thankfully, on Live a Little, he... sticks to what he does best: creating lovely, literate pop-rock.

Parastrophics is a capable release that can soundtrack a Bacchanalian night in the city.

Think Au Pairs or Delta 5, but filtered through Bikini Kill and the Rapture.

Svanangen has a wholly human presence on Loney, Noir, easy to invest in and equally easy to reap rewards from.

With The Camel's Back, Psapp grows up while successfully eluding categorization in the quest for catchiness.

You'd be forgiven to not have the hooks of these songs stuck in your head, or worse, confusing them for some other band.... Ignoring this, you have another quality catalog entry from one of modern indie rock's somewhat more surprising career bands.

B continues to acquit himself admirably on purely technical terms, wrapping a slow, slithering tongue around the quick stabs of his guitar.

The album complements each situation differently, and new elements become apparent with each listen.

The older songs blend well with the more recent numbers; Helm and his menagerie of backing musicians use bluegrass instrumentation throughout the album and ably blur the lines between traditional pieces and modern songs by the likes of Steve Earle and Paul Kennerley.

Ultimately, Dross Glop cements the versatility of the second version of Battles, establishing them as both a powerful singular and collaborative force.

Dipping into heavier rock elements can make emotional lyrics seem misplaced at times - it almost seems like the band is intentionally aiming to present a man's record - but even the album's rare moments with jagged guitar are tastefully executed.

Though he's still in the spotlight, only time will tell if these more brutal, free-jazz brass tendencies will alienate Stetson from the melody-seeking set.

Polysics is not cute. It is rock and/or roll.

She may not excel on her solo album the way she has with Broken Social Scene or Metric, but it's still a rainy-day listen.

Tightened and more focused, Just To Feel Anything wouldn't entirely jar the listener out of their headphones. Still, it shines when you hold it up to the light.

B'Day is a joyous uptempo album full of vibrant vocals, fierce production, and boundless energy. The only complaint is that it's over too soon.

The Blueprint 3 starts well enough. Its first half is good to great....But around the time we get to the Timbaland-produced, Limbaugh-dissing, Drake-featuring 'Off That,' a song about how far ahead of the curve Jay is, the album's quality falls off considerably.

It's all there in those opening lines: Your familiar arms, I remember.

Young Hunger is a solidly crafted album that manages to give hints at what Chad Valley does best while musically supporting a bunch of his buddies.

The album's lyrical shortcomings are easy to overlook, especially when most of its best parts occur when the words drop away entirely and the crisp handclaps come in. It's that sort of giddy, emotional, inarticulate pop that Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin does best, and Walla does his part in bringing that side of them out.

White Bird Release is a solid, completely contained work.

Even though not everything Mould tries on Body of Song works, there are enough gems to make the album a worthwhile destination.

The record’s overwhelming scale cuts both ways. There are so many artists, voices and instruments begging to be heard that trimming is as much an injustice to the collective nature of the group as leaving in the excess is to the final product.

While Lioness may not be the perfect Amy Winehouse album, it's all we have, which seems to be enough.

Svennson was noted for his freethinking mixing of pop and jazz genres and styles, which is why the work on Leucocyte feels fresh and enticing for just about any audience.

The Beautiful New Born Children is the rawest of the Stokes mixed with the youthful punk energy of early Replacements.

As you listen to it more and more, the music begins to make sense, the hooks come into focus and everything appears in sharp resolution, manifesting itself in a giant pop animal created for your indulgence.

Much like that of the band's previous albums, the value of Ma Fleur is in its exploration of how to grip an emotion out of simplicity.

The more conventional tracks prevent the album from reaching a true fever pitch, but even they are elevated by Maria's primal wail.

There is nothing to dislike about Classics, but I get the feeling they're holding back.

If that score at the top of this review seems unfriendly, it's not because they've grown boring or predictable; it's just another step in an ongoing process.

Explosive, mysterious and refreshingly strange.

Chunks of Temporal will be inessential at best for casual fans, meant to appease only the diehards.

Norman Cook’s concern for the state of his trade, while veiled in ironic drag, is hard to ignore. It’s what makes The BPA tick, but also what keeps the BPA’s debut album more in the theory-not-practice side of respectability.

Roadkill Overcoat is a thorny album, one that doesn't give itself over easy, and definitely not on first listen.

You can't knock the songs, but it's hard to swallow whole.

While the rawk portion of Meek Warrior... is a bit of a letdown, Akron/Family hasn't lost its knack for making pretty with the acoustics.

My central beef with Cease to Begin is not really its lack of variety, but the fact that if it just took a few more chances it could've been great.

There’s certainly something to be missed in this simpler direction, but not too much.

These original songs have been influenced in many ways by what's come before (what isn't?), but they're inventive, catchy, and kick-ass enough to stand on their own.

Despite the occasional moment when Garden Ruin sounds like a garden-variety alt-country-rock album, its moments of pure Calexico charm outweigh its missteps.

Ross is better when he's more ambitious, when he goes beyond the tired hood-rap/pop-rap divisions.

The result is album of beats and grooves, alternately plodding and engaging, punctuated by the occasional bursts of Black Dice's signature sonic playfulness.

At times, Life is Good is Nas' most satisfying album since God's Son, and at times it is just as flawed as its predecessors.

Another Country, whether in rock or country mode, is an album built on the voice of its artist.

Like their creator, the 10 songs that make up We Live in Rented Rooms won't demand you listen to them. But the more these songs play, the more layers they reveal.