The rambling nature of Finn’s delivery adds to the immersive storytelling, where listeners are focused on Finn’s lyrics--and what’s going to happen next to the characters in these stories--rather than worrying about hooks, riffs, or even the music at all. That isn’t to say that the album offers nothing in that area, but when Finn decides to figuratively dot his i’s, it feels like you’ve arrived at a momentous occasion.

At the end of the day, Parker proves good songwriting can hold the basis of a band’s sound, and despite the lack of guitar here, The Slow Rush does just that. It’s not as pristine as previous entries, but it certainly holds up Tame impala’s incredible reputation.

The old gang is back together, and they’ve cooked up a project that’s compelling front-to-back, a clear progression on their established styles both separately and as a unit without a bad track in sight.

In spite of its occasional eccentricities, shapeless is daine’s most accessible project yet.

It’s a humble but heartfelt effort which manages to tap into a font of cosmic beauty, and a delightful gift brought to you from these aging rockers.

While Addison isn’t the essential listen that it clearly wants to be, it’s an intriguing start to a career that just might one day get there.

Lost on You does a fantastic job of embodying this scene’s classic traits in a way that feels authentic and true to themselves, even if it doesn’t need to take any bold risks to do so.

Drake's pop music con job is just too well executed despite all its obvious flaws to not be enjoyed.

Miss Anthropocene takes everything about Grimes the musician – her uncanny ability to build a song out of parts no one ever thought to put together before, that idiosyncratic voice, her ear for a classic melody – and concisely packages it into her most penetrating record yet.

Fans of the band will have a blast for as long as this one lasts, feel proud for the old boys, and probably revisit it very rarely in the future.

So while Velociraptor! takes us to a few different destinations than we may have expected, it is ultimately going to elicit the same divisive response which its three predecessors did.

The music is, as ever, varied and interesting. The Satanic Satanist is a guitar-centric album and it is all the better for it, as Gourley has a unique knack for riffs and leads.

Tropical Fuck Storm's latest record simply reproves their enigmatic worth, and then doubles down on it in a way that no other artist comes close to emulating.

Lungs is one of the most exciting, compelling, fearless and ultimately promising debuts of the year.

He trumps his incredible debut in every way without resorting to drastic tactics in order to avoid some sophomore slump, instead subtly perfecting his approach to great effect.

Coupled with the fact that his synergy of indie, singer-songwriter, pop, and trip hop is never quite realized, renders Resurgam a few steps below the 2008 hip hop releases that have already proven themselves to be superb.

The production is solid and his voice retains that smooth edge that still carries with it the slightest sense of vulnerability.

What's right here is awesome, and I for one have got a lot of joy out of listening to it.

Whether he’s steering the band into uncharted territory or showing off his roots, it always sounds undoubtedly like a Woods album--and that’s perhaps the greatest achievement of all.

It's an exhausting listen, but what A Church That Fits Our Needs does so well is how it makes this loss palatable--the grief is real and heartfelt and sometimes overwhelming, but in its honesty and the warm instrumentation that Picker has mastered, it's thoughtful and all too easy to get lost in.

At this point in time, Act IV marks the pinnacle of a storied career for The Dear Hunter, and places them squarely on steady ground with nothing but bright lights on the horizon.

These Swedes know how to groove like they know how to make modular furniture, they know how to lay down a black resin-caked nastiness that reeks from each and every one of their guitar solos they, in short, know how to make a good psychedelic album.

Album of the Year certainly makes a case for his continual progression into one of the best producers in the hip-hop game. Maybe next time out he'll release the 'Album of the Year', but for now we just have one of the best of 2010.

Dedicated is good, but it doesn’t whirl with the same destructive force; in that sense, it is Carly Rae’s first genuine failure in a decade.

For This We Fought the Battle of Ages doesn’t feel like it surpasses space and time, or bridges a gap between consciousness and dreams. Once it’s over, it’s forgotten fairly easily, save maybe a couple of Vernon’s stronger melodies. It digs its nails into your scalp, but doesn’t truly grab at the psyche.

Spiral is a swoon worthy record, and one that cements Darkside as one of the brightest glowing acts of its kind.

If Fiasco could take the energy captured on the breathtaking second verse of "Ms. Mural", a truly fantastic trilogy-capper, and stay there for an entire project he might finally make his masterpiece; this time around, though, unhurried and easy is a suit that he wears well.

Modern folk fans take note; it’s not every day we get the pleasure of hearing such an accomplished debut.

Spike Field does an impressive job of reflecting upon Maria BC’s recent musical endeavors while also advancing their sound.

For the die-hard Four Tet fan who jumps over every release the man has put out, Pink isn't really going to offer much outside of a rather flash piece of packaging that coincidentally happens to store all of his recent tunes in one convenient place. For others though, it's simply going to be another Four Tet release, which is a lot better than a whole lot from everyone else.

CRASH might not be up there with her best, but it's still a good pop album, and worth trying for any fans of the genre.

The Eternal is simply just another confirmation that Sonic Youth is one of the most essential---if not the most essential---indie collectives of the past thirty years.

Los Camp have never sounded better or more essential, even if it’s all a little Motion City Soundtrack-ish.

“She Shines” displays fleeting snippets of raw emotion over chunky guitars, while “In Time”’s surging, punchy, melodious hooks bring some recognition of greatness to the forefront, but overall, the majority of the album seems pretty content with functioning on passive, prosaic ideas with little staying power.

Defense of the Genre is the best major label release of the year, and the most surprising album to boot.

Perhaps the greatest compliment that could be paid The Rocky Road is to say it can easily be recommended alongside the best in the Dubliners and Luke Kelly’s catalogue, a distinction both Dempsey and Kelly would no doubt be delighted with.

It finds the heart of everything from "The Reak Damage" through to "Glory Hallulejah" and is content to let that heart meander at its own pace, and a result it rivals his more deliberate studio releases, breathtaking as they are.

This is Jollett and his band accessing their very best traits while achieving a sense of resolution, and it’s a gorgeous thing to behold.

The Historical Conquests is astonishing for its depth of exploration in the folk genre.

The Loveliest Time is the most B-sideular ‘album’ experience I’ve found in my paws so far this year: its consistency is gaseous, its stylistic hopscotch is even more erratic than that of its sister album, it is a product of the same sessions, and - most importantly - it contains a large chunk of the weakest Carly Rae Jepsen tracks to date.

Graduation is consistent, yes, but it's consistently boring.

Awesome record.

Phoenix is much more than what floats to its surface, and far greater than the sum of its parts. It's an album of stories.

It’s been five albums now with this formula, and I’m not saying I’m looking for a New Coke version of Tiny Moving Parts, the formula is very good, but it’s holding the band back from being anything more than pretty good.

The main problem with In Our Heads is its musical anonymity.

Animal Collective is a completely different beast on Strawberry Jam, and it’s beautiful at times, it really is.

Eery other song on the album has great lines that are now more easily understandable to boot. Pig Destroyer may have switched from a chainsaw that cuts quickly to a hacksaw that takes a bit longer, but they’re still creating phantom limbs, and the blood and viscera are still present.

The first three songs will undoubtedly hook any listener into continuing the album, but the listener will find nothing as impressive as that opening statement.

On an album this long, there is equal room for good and bad, and you’re always equidistant from either one no matter what track you’ve reached.

The only real thing separating this from Some Rap Songs is the lack of duration and inter-song flow; Earl's last album deserved those slightly silly Abbey Road nods as much as Jeff Rosenstock's WORRY. did, whereas FEET OF CLAY plays as self-contained little musings that seem to flutter in and out as a radio channel changes.

It’s that vital connection between Lorde’s present-day ruminations and the uncanny way her music hits on such a fundamental level with all that dirty, romanticized nostalgia that makes Pure Heroine such a success beyond "Royals'" ostensible aim of looking down its nose at the Miley Cyruses and Taylor Swifts of the world.

So once more, the Dodos feel fresh, a little bit more thoughtful, and every bit as happy to get us tangled up in ourselves. Of course there's color to No Color. It's just this time there's black and white and grey as well- colors they've never used before.

Mainstream baiting notwithstanding, With Light & With Love is the best Woods record yet, a tinkering of the charmingly sincere folksiness of Bend Beyond into something even more muscular and full-bodied.

The Most Lamentable Tragedy is the product of one of the best punk bands of our time making music in their prime, and when you factor in the level of ambition present, you’re left with a rock opera for the ages.

It’s a consistently, gorgeously understated record.

AFI’s latest offering is a good one, but also one that seems to hint at a promise that it never quite fulfills.

All in all, An Imaginary Country is probably Tim Hecker's most accessible album. In a way, the record bridges together the elements heard on previous albums, only without regurgitating old ideas.

What a pleasure to have a songwriter and singer of this calibre making albums like this, with seemingly limitless texture to dig into and infinite potential meaning for every listener. Just so long as they give it the time.

Accelerate’s songs are generally well-constructed, almost to the point of being formulaic- eleven alternative pop songs with no excess fat around the edges.

I’m sure, at a certain time (or high), these songs work more than they let on; they’re risks that seek rewards. Credit No Age for making Nouns still pretty great.

is is (yikes) a low-stakes and contented release, quite enjoyable for what it is and wholly inessential.

Astro Coast sounds like an honest representation of four gifted songwriters writing what they know and how they know it. What they know is a refreshing change of pace for the indie rock narrative.

For anyone interested in the world of contemporary analog synthesizer music, Ishi should be a welcome addition to any collection.

There’s a lot to unwrap lyrically and thematically on Show Pony. It offers a layer of depth that simply doesn’t exist in certain pockets of country music, and brings all of this to the table while stretching the genre’s sonic boundaries.

This is an album for coffee and rainy Sunday mornings. For driving your kids to the park on an unseasonably warm February afternoon. For unwinding at the end of the night with a glass of red wine. The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve found beauty within rare moments of calm. Hen’s Teeth is an album that matches that mood, and perhaps you can chalk it up to a personal aligning of the stars, but right now it’s everything I need.

This album's initial impact and discog-relative quality may be nothing short of a wonder, but it only takes a few songs for all-too-familiar snags to make themselves felt. Though the mix places him appropriately low, Corgan is still one of the worst singers in all rock music.

Grandaddy’s latest feels slightly remote but wholeheartedly nostalgic, the synthesis of deeply personal loneliness and some kind of cosmic greater meaning, and all three of my theories seem perfectly suitable. Weary but still imbued with plenty of heart, Blu Wav is all you can ask for as the return of Jason Lytle’s long-running indie project.

It’s not the worst approach they could have taken, but again, there’s nothing super about adhering to the virtues of pop – and in turn, Bonny Light Horseman is a marginally decent record; nothing more.

2011’s Prologue was a high water mark that The Milk Carton Kids struggled to match throughout their discography – a classic case of peaking early. However, fifteen years later, I can safely say that they’ve finally eclipsed it.

In reinventing and giving a modern twist to timeless but overlooked folk gems, Sam Amidon has concocted something entirely unique that nobody else could, or arguably ever would, have done...in itself, a form of inspired creation. There’s an undeniable magic to this thing. I highly encourage you to check your reservations at the door and dive in.

Take Care is equal parts dick-waving egoism, emotional wreckage, and mature understanding.

What it lacks in punch it makes up for in being a more focused effort than its occasionally mixtape-esque brother, and thus, Oxymoron isn’t so much a backpedal for Q and TDE as it is a solid side-step.

Wasting Light isn't a masterpiece, nor does it see Grohl really reinventing the wheel as far as the band's sound goes, but it's clearly painted from a broader pallette of colours and it's clearly their first consistently good set of songs.

Synthetic synapses spark and crackle via the Boston 5-piece’s revered fusion of nu-metal revivalism and modern mathcore shenanigans, each track adding another glorious jerking movement to their macabre, digital death rattle.

A Kiss For the Whole World remains eminently-listenable low-calorie fun despite its intermittent slip ups.

To Drink From the Night Itself returns to the peak of At The Gates’ creative side by delving into a more moody, nuanced and diverse set of songs that shares more in common with their first few releases than the one everybody seems to remember. In the process, they very well may have released the best album in their history.

This record does nothing to convince Kurt Vile skeptics to jump on the bandwagon, but for the already-converted it will also do nothing to drive them away. Indeed, this is certainly one of the singer-songwriter’s stronger efforts, even coming eight LPs into his solo career.

The bloat of Transcendence seems to be a problem inherent to post-2011 DTP, and appears to be symptomatic of a group trying to deviate around a winning formula of the past rather than one keen on developing the innovation they were built to achieve.

This is a dazzlingly euphoric and utterly stubborn album.

From the first minute till the last, this is enthralling, invigorating stuff, and because of that it's comfortably the duo's best album yet.

Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars fears not experimentation, and has the chops to occasionally shine through with awe-inspiring beauty. It’s worth it to not have a front-to-back ear pleaser when the peaks are this brilliant.

Love in Shadow is a startlingly unique addition to the band's catalog, and the most dynamic and interesting album that Aaron Turner has ever created. It's easy to see the multitude of cracks and smudges that besmirch this messy record. It's even easier, however, to just sit back and enjoy one of metal's weirdest and most fascinating releases of the year.

At some point or another, we all feel as though the electricity of our existence is being trapped in a confined space, waiting to break loose. The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us pops the lid, vigorously releasing that energy into the atmosphere. It’s liberating.

Diamond Eyes is wild and serene, and I can honestly say its Deftones' best album to date.

The union between the two musicians (one entrenched in Cretan folk and medieval music, the other in instrumental rock and post-punk) is the alchemy which makes this record both structurally cohesive yet subtly and, somewhat contrarily, diffuse.

The album musters such little excitement from its arsenal of dynamic guitar solos and yells of self-affirmation.

Ma Fleur is a triumphant return for The Cinematic Orchestra.

The only concern with this LP is that it doesn’t really explore new grounds. It somewhat recapitulates their experiments, albeit in a tighter, more experienced manner, instead of taking steps forward. Despite this setback, the record is arguably their hardest hitting in over a decade.

The end result is an album that passes by without any significant misfires, and at least a handful of headshots. It's probably a stretch to say that he's met the potential signified by the queue of people within the industry that have recognised his talent and reached out to him, but TYRON's best cuts provide further unequivocal evidence that there is something special about Tyron Frampton.

Earth Patterns approaches “atmospheric masterpiece” status. It’s full of colorful and refreshing music which captures the essence of beautiful outdoor spaces in the summer or fall (with this sense perhaps encouraged by the gorgeous album artwork).

For the average Goat acolyte, I would say that Medicine successfully takes the band forward, with balanced experimentation and enough psychedelia to make you have an outer body experience while you do the dishes.

You will hear the first song five times on this album and the second song twice. Some might argue that mellow synthpop brain-emptiers of “The Darkness” and “Lifeline” constitute independent third and fourth songs, but these are such bland re-re-ree-renditions of A. G.’s longstanding crusty pop Cookbook that flattering them as autonomous entities demands a greater creative effort on your part than the man himself was ever minded to put into them.

PQ are at their best when they’re short, sweet and erratic.

While it certainly has a few weaker tracks, the core of the record is truly breathtaking to behold. It’s a moment of self-discovery and commitment to growth that eschews the lavish tendencies of Star-Crossed for something more personal, honest, and vulnerable.

The witty anti-gangster taunts of A Little Bit Cooler and pretty much everything else on the album, makes for a fun, but still quality, Hip-Hop record.

Laugh Track makes several welcome adjustments to their present-day formula, but it’s hardly a wholesale reorientation – and make no mistake, the National are still very much in need of one.

With the progressive-pop-doom hybrid that Ghost have crafted on Meliora, with the occult aesthetic running in parallel to the music--is a resounding victory for the Swedish sextet and is assuredly the band's strongest album to date.

Sun is a rewarding return to a new Cat Power, one who seems more at ease with her music and herself than ever before.