Final statement Funeral Mariachi is a showcase of their lush, accessible side while remaining as peculiar as ever.

A confident and assured debut proving that home address aside, he fits squarely into the Black Hippy aesthetic.

Dose attempts to go everywhere and do everything. Opener “None of Your Business Man” is classic Abraham ascendancy (and the perfect anthem to quit your job to). “Torch to Light” introduces the double LP’s first moment of psychedelia, a new-ish venture for the band that’s sprinkled throughout. Mascis’s contribution on “Came Down Wrong” is, unsurprisingly, fuzzy, lackadaisical indie rock. “Dose Your Dreams” is disco. “Two I’s Closed” is a Beatles ballad. “The One I Want Will Come for Me” recalls shoegaze-y Cure.

Women’s Rights has its share of more complex situations as well, not to mention the occasional fourth chord.

Minogue delivers bliss like no other (wo)man or machine.

These parts slide and slip through and around one another, creating a shifting matrix that consumes your attention for as long as the band wants to play.

It's an album designed for playing late at night; even peppier tracks like the popping-piston "Burn The Pages" and the jittery "Hostage" have a darkness to them. That darkness might not make Sia the world's hugest pop star, but it sure makes her one of its more compelling ones.

Everything in Between is nearly 40 minutes long, which is epic for a band whose last two full-lengths were triumphs of brevity. And while 2008's Nouns alternated between rave-ups and bliss-outs, here the band spends more time, well, in between.

On Head First, the singer's bandmate-producer Will Gregory creates a pitch-perfect neon-lit '80s wonderland with Hi-NRG bass lines and plenty of that fat synth sound made famous by Van Halen's "Jump."

Although Feast comes packed with Europeans and expats (Butler currently calls Vienna home), the rhythms strike with Yankee assertiveness, the vocals now direct yet far more diverse.

The pink-slime pop of Mature Themes is made to epoxy itself to your ears for days on end.

Alright's sparkly high-life beats... all gleam with upmarket panache. But strong medicine always requires a little sugar. [Feb 2007, p.82]

Gone are the prior albums' "tasteful" (i.e., boring) slow-burners; El Camino's 38 minutes are pure thrust.

Recognizable shapes of jazz and post-rock often accompany Gira's baritone croon, but they're always delivered between passages of fastidiously crafted clamor that's as cauterizing as ever.

The man could turn a Sesame Street sing-along into a deathbed confessional. "With piranha teeth / I've been dreaming of you," he moans here with typical cheeriness on opener "The Gravedigger's Song," a throbbing, reverb-heavy swirl that... feels like the sort of love song someone might write just before pushing their lover in front of a train.

Here, on the band's first album in seven years, he returns with the profoundly playful shrug of a cosmopolitan busker.

Like Lifted, Once Again offers a mesmerizing blend of canny sample science and Stevie Wonderful life-band R&B. [Dec 2006, p.96]

The result is one of Cave's hardest-rocking records, but also one of his funniest. [Apr 2007, p.86]

From bracing opener "Precious Stone" to the chugging fan appreciation "Rock Crowd" to a heartfelt version of Gram Parsons' "Wheels," Yorn emerges with his most purposeful, affecting album yet.

Nouns evolves gradually, with 'Teen Creeps,' 'Sleeper Hold,' and 'Cappo' adding Superchunky pop riffs to their relentless punk vigor. [May 2008, p.109]

Deeply felt, gorgeously rendered folk-pop songs.

For Belong, they step up in class with producers Flood and Alan Moulder, who have overseen alt-classics from Depeche Mode's Violator to PJ Harvey's To Bring You My Love.

Her voice and her lyrics are just a part of what makes Sleeper such a gripping listen. The record evinces a rumpled bohemian chic resembling a Purple Fashion editorial come to life, but behind that effortless cool is an impeccable sense of craft.

Few of the album’s 11 ensuing tracks are quite as barnstorming as “Devil,” but the album remains gigantic throughout.

Rancid doesn’t venture too far outside of its sonic comfort zone on Tomorrow Never Comes and 30 seconds into each song, it’s not difficult to guess their structure and how they’ll likely resolve. Rather than being a weakness, this is one of the album’s strengths.

Occasion opts for Kanye-esque stadium-status beats, merry lyrics that include perhaps the only rap reference to a "bar stool in Poughkeepsie," and a joyous closing cut called "Walk on Air."

Easy Tiger plays like a tightly focused best-of compilation from Adams' past six or seven efforts. [Jul 2007, p.96]

Mixed Emotions falls right into place, then, indulging both musical and emotional nostalgia without falling victim to any particular trend.