The overall effect is a more diluted sound, in keeping with the watering down of Skinner's diatribes.

Offend Maggie’s mellowness is not a lessening of Deerhoof’s strangeness. In fact, the emotional intensity of these songs may be even more pronounced than in songs from the past.

Consistency is not Yo Majesty’s strong suit, and Futuristically suffers from an uneven and unfocused approach. Despite this there is plenty to enjoy here.

Such Fun is the type of record Annuals were always going to make: a slick opus, epic both in sound and messiness, that just never comes together.

City of Refuge offers the refuge that comes with being aware of your surroundings and trying to make sense of both good and bad emotions without flinching. It is the refuge from ignorance that makes these songs timeless.

The conviction in Stern's direct, bare voice is what turns the album into the kicking, clawing, emotional frenzy that we get.

Molina has created a genre all her own, and Un Dia is its pièce de résistance.

The Chemistry of Common Life is not a technically proficient album despite its epic leanings. Like most albums primarily consisting of anthems, its impact tapers off slightly on repeated listens. But the sheer power of the album is key.

The wonder of Some Are Lakes is the fact that such arguably masculine instrumentation goes such a long way to buoy Powell's lady vocals. Neither takes a backseat, and the combination feels way natural.

He's here to entertain, and to interpret the memories of his childhood. As such, the music is a gentle stroll, like an idyll walk through the Rothaargebirge, the deep green mountain range adjacent to his hometown for which the Ferndorf is named.

Another World is under 20 minutes long, but it’s more than a placeholder. It’s the portrait of an artist as a changeling, moving above and beyond his former skill-set.

The choice tracks, the tracks that redeem an otherwise eternally frustrating album are 'Cannibals' and 'Modern Dislocation.'

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.

Public Strain improves on Women in every way, which is no small feat. It's 13 minutes long than its predecessor, but Women doesn't use the extra time to spread out. The band keeps the tension up by building the various lean sounds of that record into new, more muscular variations.

Although the album does lag a bit toward the end--not due to a lack of quality but to the inability to match the album's earlier dazzling heights--it's a very respectable addition to the Swedish canon.

By trying to define they’re own specific legacy, they’re actually ramming it down their listener's throats, and daring the music world to question them.

By paying just as much attention to sonic details as ever, Ejstes and his pals have put forth another refined effort, from the piano on back to the drums.

On what has been for the most part an impeccably executed commercial rap album, TI again reminds us what he’s really capable of.

They reproduce, even with simple materials and simple words, complex emotions and ideas. And at the same time, they just make you want to sing, freak-out, and play beach-blanket bingo in a basement.

Wigflip feels like the type of thing Madlib could churn out on any given lazy Sunday afternoon.

It's worth listening to with the hope of getting lost in some strange other world where children spew ether ghosts and spirits tap out love in Morse code.

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 songs are classic Mogwai, only more sophisticated--and, as such, startling different.

Essentially a funhouse mirror of 2007's far superior "Because of the Times," Only by the Night stumbles under the weight of its ambitions by lacking the songs necessary to support them

Dear Science is another highlight from a band whose career has essentially been an extended one.

The members of Cold War Kids have deepened their sound rather than expanding it.

The album is boastful, vulnerable and witty, usually within the course of a single song. It may be a bad man’s world, but a bad girl’s record makes it that much more tolerable.

The songs never sound cluttered despite the cavalcade of divergent sounds that make up the album, and Pearson’s vocals are adeptly deployed as just another instrument.