Missteps aside, Magic Time delivers that familiar blanket on a chill winter’s day vibe, and Morrison fans will thankfully bury themselves under it.

It's a pleasant surprise for those who feared that the group's glory days were long gone.

Another almost-but-not-quite entry in a catalog full of near-miss gems.

Room on Fire is the sound of a tighter, more focused band.

The Runners Four is simply another interesting collection of tunes from a group that refuses to curtail its trespasses across musical boundaries.

The band's formula for its high-energy, rock-dance mélange is quite simple; take youthful exuberance (average age: 19), add an exceptionally-tight rhythm section, and let the superfluous, over-indulgent jams flow, as they most certainly do over the course of ten songs and just over 55 minutes on this most promising debut.

Chutes Too Narrow proves the Shins have more on their minds than singing the perfect harmony or writing the ultimate couplet, and it's that deeper sense of introspection that makes it a keeper.

Stylistically, In Case We Die is like a Jackson Pollock drip painting, chaotic and bustling.

Instant 0 finds Stereolab upbeat and sounding more vibrant than it has in years.

Shifts into a cruise-control comfort zone, blissfully coasting on what has come before.

All Of A Sudden I Miss Everyone is not that perfect album that reinvents the genre, but it is a primer on everything good about it.

You want back-to-basics? This is it.

Happiness in Magazines is the sound of a former sideman confidently flexing his muscles for anyone who's interested. More people should be.

The Understanding is one of those bold sophomore efforts that will most likely split fans of the duo into two camps, with the Air/Boards of Canada downbeaters lamenting the new direction and the dance-oriented, Basement Jaxx set reveling in the unexpected vibrancy of Röyksopp’s present sound.

This promising notion of marrying the overly pensive, doomed-romantic Billy persona with orchestral-sized studio ambitions is a wash, the cumulative effect being undeniably gorgeous, in a rainy-day internalized apocalypse kind of way.

It demands the right frame of mind, temperament and that ideal rainy-day traveling environment, in which nothing works out. When you're in the middle of such a moment, Hood's there to provide the soundtrack for your emotional nosedive.

A promising debut from a band more clever than it is musically accomplished.

A more shaded, musically expressive version of the continuing story of [Karen] O.

Mostly he just wants to make big, fun, Bowie-esque declamations or work out a nervy punk jones.

Ghost remains one of the more chaotic and interesting outfits working today, and Hypnotic Underworld proves another worthy addition to the group's idiosyncratic catalog.

This is a subtle, whispered scream of a work, one that demands nothing of a consumer’s time but pays decent dividends for those willing to make the investment.

Perhaps an unrefined but fiery bar band would have been better suited to accompany such nakedly raw material.

Possibly Hatfield's best work since her solo debut.

Ultimately, those enamored with Walker's infrequent but peculiarly expressive post-'70s work (from Climate of Hunter on) will find much to enjoy here.

Think Tank, then, is neither the best Blur album nor the worst; rather, it's a unique creature, guaranteed to be the oddball in the band's catalogue.

Blue Eyed in the Red Room doesn’t quite congeal, primarily because Hollon’s two collaborative efforts are the most impressive moments. Reverse the 8:2 ratio of instrumental to vocal cuts, and we might be talking a long-striding keeper.

Another solid addition to Jurado’s commendable catalog.

Separation Sunday isn’t quite on par with Almost Killed Me, primarily because it won’t stun listeners with its freshness.