In sticking close to home, Vanderslice has crafted his finest album yet.

The back end of the album trundles along, failing to rival the opening energy or offer anything as interesting as the non-anthemic detours.

Comfort of Strangers is a more confident record than 2002’s Daybreaker, exhibiting an economy of craft and unvarnished execution that might glide by less attentive ears but rewards the keen consumer with a warmth and depth worthy of the artist who created Central Reservation.

It’s one thing to strive for the primal truth of a particular sound; it’s another to vainly bludgeon a thoroughly pulverized style in search of unsullied beats.

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.

Tyrannosaurus Hives should add up to more than simply a tighter record with gaudier production values. That it doesn't could spell trouble for a band eager to avoid being sent back down to the minor leagues.

Clearly, what we’re dealing with here isn’t a new Modest Mouse, but one with a few new, calculated tricks.

A Healthy Distrust reinforces Sage Francis’ standing as one of the most verbally gifted rappers currently in the game, but it lacks the cohesive flow of Personal Journals and complains about a host of worldly ills without offering much in the way of a positive solution.

The approach Welch and partner David Rawlings bring to the material feels crafted for private enjoyment rather than public consumption, and the end result is not only Welch's most personal work to date but one of her most emotionally satisfying as well.

While there are unmistakable traces of that swampy, sweaty sound, particularly in the three-guitar sturm und twang of the title track, at other points the Truckers openly embrace their rock and punk roots, as if hoping to stomp that nettlesome Southern Rock label into the ground.

Unhurried, smooth and easy on the ears.

As with Carrabba's earlier work, though, the problem with A Mark is the utter lack of personalized context in which his heart-on-your-sleeve songs operate.

While such diversity isn't necessarily a bad thing, it does tend to break the rhythm of his albums.

It would have been nice if Kidwell had stuck to his white-schlep soul man routine throughout, instead of gesturing back to earlier electronic or acoustic-based instrumental work.

It's [Kim] Gordon's tracks that make the strongest impact.

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

Everything Ecstatic doesn’t come together as solidly as prior Four Tet releases, but it unquestionably contains the blueprint for far greater explorations to come.

We Shall All Be Healed emphatically proves that Darnielle can create compelling, dynamic music beyond the comfortable confines of his living room couch.

While the results aren’t exactly groundbreaking, they're undeniably loose, spirited and just plain fun.

Leo hits a few bull’s-eyes.

Even at a svelte 33 minutes, Chain Gang wears into a well-defined groove pretty quickly, and its breathy affectations too often congeal into pastiche, note-perfect homages lacking in depth.

In the Reins will please fans of both Beam and Calexico, and perhaps bring crossover business to each.

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

A blithe, energetic and wholly likable album.

The results are competent, if unsurprising.

Shadow simply holds together better than recent Jurado efforts.

A dewy dream-pop affair that favors vaguely defined lyrical sketches of people, places and things over concrete foundations and specific arrangements.

Magic and Medicine reveals a tightness of strong structure and definition of purpose (still all things '60s, but more folkie than psychedelic) lacking on the group's debut.