Run Fast is certainly more benevolent and interesting than the myopic records most people make post-40 about their changing place in the world.

On her debut full-length, the 22-year-old songwriter (see Miley Cyrus' "Party in the U.S.A.") nails a variety of roles: crotch-grabbing punker, '70s soul diva, Kelly Clarkson–style bellower.

Regardless of which indie celeb is on the mic or which recreational drug best suits the beat, each track hints at hedonism without hangovers.

Even the raw stuff has the humanizing detail that keeps Ghost interesting years after we've grown accustomed to his imagesplaying Joycean flow.

Surprisingly subdued. [Mar 2007, p.86]

The effect is like a vaguely remembered, pleasantly low-key dream. [Mar 2008, p.97]

Even at just 42 minutes, Tonight is relentless, yet the comedown is exquisite.

A fond, funky farewell.

Compiled by Stones Throw's Peanut Butter Wolf, this set features singles, club mixes, and unreleased tracks, including the George Clinton-esque electro of "On the Floor," plus mid-'80s synth-dance tracks that recall Prince and DeBarge.

Business Casual's libidinous wit can't quite match 2007's Fancy Footwork, but this day at the office still features booty calls, romantic squabbles, and digitally syrupy declarations of devotion.

Unabashedly upbeat, MC Zumbi compares ghetto life to being a "caged bird," but even when he dismisses haters ("Burning incense, yeah, they tried to call us yoga"), he sounds optimistic.

His quietly unsettling aura perfectly suits these childlike love songs.

At home with a variety of tonal colors, Alpers is a basement Björk, stacking her multitracked voice until it hits the ceiling.

Wayward Fire swoons and grooves deliciously, but the lyrics have a distinctly processed flavor.

While Atlantis sacrifices some of Rebellion's gospel spirit, its collaborations push boundaries with eclectic nerve. [Feb 2007, p.84]

Shorn of its usual grime trappings, Manuva's deep, gruff lyricism sounds playfully inspired on catalog highlights like "Proper Tings Juggled."

They never let math get in the way of a good time. [Apr 2008, p.96]

Elson leans toward both bluegrass and chamber pop--the fiddle-laced "Cruel Summer" is worlds away from the twee, jewelry-box twinkle of "100 Years From Now." Her twangy, echoing soprano recalls Jenny Lewis and Loretta Lynn, aided craftily by husband/producer Jack White.

While the songs may lack the original’s wild-eyed narrative, they still contain some of his most rewind-worthy bars in years.

It's somewhere between the album we've been waiting for Eno to release since 'My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts' and the album we wish Phish would stop releasing altogether. [Apr 2001, p.154]

This record isn't as masterful as the last, partially because they're trying out new things, many of which -- horns, vocals, ska(!) -- are old things. [Jul 2001, p.134]

Bakesale was the catchy, coherent 1994 breakthrough--a missing link between Nick Drake and Sonic Youth.

Ruins mostly sticks to compelling, pretty surfaces and leaves the demons in the background.

A perfectly pleasant contribution to the mysterious forces driving indie pop these days.

Bernard Butler, hipster rock's Jerry Bruckheimer, produced this impressive debut, a tsunami of galloping rhythms, lightning-charged guitar lines, and choruses that immediately infect your brain.

The fifth album from this Portland, Oregon quartet (recently expanded from a married duo) is swathed in misty silver-and-blue atmospherics, but it's the songwriting, hooks, and escalating thrum of a capable rock band that pull listeners from each twinkling vista to the next.

Taken as an hourlong whole, though, Noctourniquet really does feel like the band's most accessible effort in years.

The change in emphasis is jarring at first, but embrace your inner goth and you'll realize that the band's signifiers--frontman Tom Smith's outsize baritone, a penchant for high drama--remain intact.