St. Vincent is a challenging art pop album that convincingly balances the beautiful with the ugly, and ultimately stays human despite its futuristic leanings.

This isn't a slight dip in quality, it's an avalanche.

Sarah and Josh have created a very well-written balance between depth and melody that sets them apart from many pop acts that are around today.

At the end of things, Morning Phase remains exceedingly lovely but disappointedly insubstantial; not a sea change at all, but just another passing phase in a career that’s made a specialty of them.

Their pre-NWOBHM influences continue to reign supreme in the best of ways, but this auditory backlash to all of the technology that we surround ourselves with on a day to day basis takes itself a bit too seriously for what most of us would come to expect from a Slough Feg record.

If you liked the Com Truise of old, you will almost certainly enjoy this, and if you've ever been skeptical about the quality of music that chillwave would be able to produce, Wave 1 should dispel all doubts. Highly recommended.

The Brink is less immediate than all of the band's prior releases and is indeed a grower when given time to settle.

Like the album it constitutes, ["Emptiness Will Eat the Witches"] rarely illuminated, yet beautifully moving and unquestionably engrossing.

At its dizzying zenith, Beyoncé is a loaded fusion of generosity and self-empowerment. or perhaps, more accurately, it finds self-empowerment in generosity.

Gorgeous melodies are ubiquitous, and seemingly every moment has been carefully crafted with immaculate attention to detail.

After The Disco displays a sense of focus that feels like the two musicians finally coming together as a band--although, unfortunately, the album is not quite as sonically diverse as one might hope.

At the end of the day, there is little doubt that listeners will enjoy The Satanist, because it provides in copious quantities what has made Behemoth a staple in the extreme metal community for over twenty years, while keeping their shortcomings to a minimum.

As a soundtrack, it works. Moody music fills the background, and in that respect it is largely a success. Yet as a standalone listen, the record is a weak and almost slap-dash display, with Arnalds feeling regrettably uninspired.

Even with the missteps and occasional ennui, Terrestrials is a welcome merger between two insuppressible forces in the industry today, which should leave us all curious about what their next cloak-and-dagger collaboration will sound like.

Trouble is a brave step forward for a band unafraid to test its limits and a frontwoman unable to see any.

Although Too True is not Dum Dum Girls’ finest hour--that would still be the cathartic Only in Dreams--it remains a commendable shift from an artist on the verge of being swallowed up by memory.

It is only Avron's aforementioned huge-sounding production which separates You Me At Six from hundreds of similar bands, meaning that Cavalier Youth is neither cavalier, nor youthful enough to take them to the next level.

As with the self-titled release, Mind Over Matter front-loads its more accessible tunes.... Unfortunately, the album’s latter half is a little more hit and miss, with everything being competent enough in isolation, but arguably unengaging when amassed together.

It is the soundtrack to every want and desire, and every wish and memory--but most of all, it is simply beautiful.

It is the last two tracks of EP2 that bring a little disappointment.

Transgender Dysphoria Blues might be the most important album of the year, and its message will hopefully seep into music culture and spread till records like this don’t *have* to get made anymore.

As far as simplistic and generic post-rock goes it’s fantastically inoffensive. Yet with the face of the genre ever changing, God is an Astronaut and their sixth are slowly becoming a relic of the past.

There’s something for everyone, and OCS do well to cater to a crowd who are afraid of falling with the rest of us into the future.

Talk of pretension aside, Rival Dealer is an important piece of work, a genuinely astounding and jaw-dropping release that deserves every pair of ears it can find.

Some of it wants to carry on the torch of its predecessor, other parts of it want to redefine Karnivool, and other parts don’t even seem to have any discernible purpose, like those god-awful interludes.

This is the kind of music Shearwater plays best--the it gives the band the space they need. It is a damned shame most of Fellow Travelers opposes this idea, with songs that are defined too rigidly for the Texan reimaginists.

Cupid Deluxe is by no means an imperfect record, but it is still a powerful reminder of how grossly underrated Dev Hynes is as an artist in his own right.

At a mere thirty-six minutes, it’s not a stretch to see Britney Jean as a half-baked effort, more of a commitment to be completed and shipped off than the labor of love it was touted as.

The good thing is that all songs have a character of their own and hence an appreciable replay value.

Too bad it doesn’t come together better as it merely buckles down into a messy heap of proggy tomfoolery.

It’s the kind of music that nobody, perhaps not even Moderat themselves, expected from this record.

On a very basic level Pre-Human Ideas may appear to be the work of an artist diving headfirst into insanity. But at its core the album is one of the most personal and engaging releases of Mount Eerie’s career.

Wooden Shjips succeed in making their material as easy listening and cool as possible, and tread on the trails of acclaimed artists such as Tom Petty.

At once highly inventive and unabashedly fun, the album showcases the trailblazing pop star at her most expansive thus far. M.I.A. adroitly capitalizes on her established style, embellishing it with moments of genuine intimacy.

The success here of being an album worth mention is derived from its encompassment of the past and present Marshall Mathers.

Artpop is the third album by pop recording artist Lady Gaga. Therefore it has similarities to her previous work but is inherently different because it is a different album.

It’s the sound of the world crumbling from overdoses of exhilaration, and it’s as rowdy and psychotic as we’ll all be in those final moments.

On their third outings most bands attempt to step up their game in terms of consistent songwriting. Instead, there's as many skippable tracks on this record as those worth revisiting. Mere competency is not sufficient to turn heads, especially in the year that abounds in high-quality stoner rock releases.

It is basically the quintessential Avril Lavigne record, featuring the soaring choruses and melodies that made us fall in love with her over the past ten years, as well as the silly (and sometimes stupid) quirks that range from endearing to flat out annoying.

Remarkably devoid of pretensions, Free Your Mind is a dance record boiled down to its most essential, body-shaking elements, and the purest distillation of Cut Copy’s music and their ethos yet.

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

There are enough interesting motifs and musical adventuring on Reflektor that the negatives seem inconsequential on the whole.

Burials is secure in its intentions. It's not looking to push borders or dabble in a misremembered nostalgia. Burials' only goal is catharsis and that is why it succeeds.

Even more than any of their previous outings How To Stop Your Brain In An Accident bridges the gap between efficient noise rock, whip-smart comedy and timely social commentary.

It’s a credit to Cults that Static is such an enticing initial listen; no one now is pulling the retro Spector treatment with as much stylistic confidence as they are. Over time, though, Static becomes more of the same, that doomed relationship that your friend just won’t get over.

This is verse-chorus-verse as pleasantly intuitive as it comes, thematically light yet with enough room for the musicians to show their considerable skill.

So why does every record feel like a Year Zero? It’s because each release comes with a caveat; that being “could do better”.

While each song has a solid musical backbone, it’s Brown’s narratives that make the most profound impact, and move the album forward.

This delusional “growing up is bad” aspect of Bangerz is part of what makes it good, because it means that Miley can pull off things that shouldn’t work.

What makes Lousy with Sylvianbriar a typically of Montreal album is Barnes’s effortless subversion of these classic rock idioms, his ability to distort the twangy harmonies and corn-fed heartland melodies with blindingly vivid, visceral lyrical imagery as deceptive and dark as it is gorgeously enunciated.

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.

DevilDriver put on one hell of a show, and Winter Kills, while not groundbreaking nor particularly surprising, features material well worth blasting from your speakers or seeing live.

The Electric Lady is also a dazzling artistic statement, a fiendishly clever endeavor that oozes enough feminine charm, wit and charisma to endow dozens of regular pop starlets with.

Whether or not you’re a fan of their earlier, grittier material or their newer, more polished recordings, Is Survived By is a massively engaging and surprisingly triumphant record, and you cant expect anything but for them to continue to add to their ranks of love-moshing fans with an album that is just so damn solid.

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

The Bones of What You Believe hits so many high notes with its surprisingly simplistic delivery that it’s impossible not to recommend to even the most jaded of listeners. Yes it is at times sickly sweet, but that’s part of the charm.

The Worse Things Get is a listen that tears and breaks, an album defiant and loud as often as it is anxious and sad.

There's some very remarkable playing and composing found throughout The Vigil, and because of the diverse range of sounds and styles that the album chooses to work with, there's something for every jazz fan to mull over.

What makes Repave different is that it’s the result of multiple creative minds at work, and that synergy is what makes the record so invigorating.

It’s as if Metallica decided to try and court the 16 year old post-mall goth crowd with a bunch of inane Black Veil Bride like lyrics, while adding in a bit of Avenged Sevenfold-lite songwriting.

The record lacks the depth found in Nine Inch Nail’s previous records and the engrossing brilliance of their more experimental leanings. All that aside, Hesitation Marks stands as incredibly solid, perhaps more so than any record put out by the band in over a decade.

Ocean Avenue Acoustic is, not surprisingly, at its best when it ventures beyond what is anticipated.

It’s an album surprisingly even in its delivery, if a little underwhelming in content, somewhat reserved and unquestionably safe.

Colored Sands is exactly what a Gorguts record should sound like in 2013 and will surely breathe for years to come.

While it's possible Pain Is Beauty would have benefited from some more time spent songwriting and fleshing out the overall direction of the album's sound, there's still more than enough impressive songs to make this a worthy addition to the Chelsea Wolfe catalog.

This album is the sound of an excellent singer, songwriter, arranger, and, I’d argue, thinker translating those strengths into some of the most stirring music you’ll hear this year. Loud City Song may not be loud, but the echo it makes is unforgettable.

Carrier, finally, brings that emotional subtext to the front, and the result is a Dodos record that is thrillingly translucent and crushingly intimate, almost uncomfortably so. It’s love and loss, as straightforward as you please.

In its very best moments, to me, Paracosm works as a stunning reminder as to why, perhaps, some of us find chillwave to be so uniquely addictive and therefore worth segregating from other forms of music: it’s a celebration of life, and a bitter reminder that our best days may have long passed us by.

Hobo Rocket is definitely an overall fan-pleaser, and one that compensates for Beard, Wives, Denim by mutating its 'flower power' whimsy into an erratic display of mood swings and horror-show theatrics.

At its core, Embracism is a full-fledged artistic statement that's at once endearing and wildly eccentric.

For fans of Pretty Lights, A Color Map of the Sun is an acceptable recreation of his wild live show, if nothing else. For those looking to get into the real contradiction of Smith, the album makes for a wonderful primer.

Hedvig Mollestad Trio have stepped up their game in every aspect, coming out with an instrumental album that's dexterously performed, often inventive and always compelling.

With a fan-pleasing alteration in style and 'no-filler, all-killer' logic, the outfit have churned out one of the their most widely appealing efforts thus far, not to mention a staple release for stoner rock in 2013.

On The Living Infinite, Soilwork have simultaneously stepped back to their past while maintaining their current sound, but they have also diversified their formula more than ever before--and they did so without a single filler track.

It may be difficult to listen to, and even harder to stomach, but there is great reward in focusing on what happens in this deceptively hushed landscape that Hval has built, because for all its use of soft atmospherics and gentle, eiderdown-laced vocals, the album ultimately betrays the implication of a lifetime of misuse beneath its soothing dulcet tones and restrained palettes.

The two biggest problems with BE are thus; the energy that made their first LP a surprisingly decent effort has been removed completely, and Liam’s lyrics have plumbed to new, previously unassailable depths of self-parody.

While Empty Days and Sleepless Nights offered songs that were entertaining enough without lyric booklet in hand, Letters Home is much more dependent on its story for emotional impact.

What the album lacks in refinement and songwriting polish, it gains in the unflagging energy these tunes emanate.

Even though this LP may not be a complete game-changer, they are certainly on the right path to come out with one sooner rather than later.

Adroitly oscillating between creepy and seductive, the album makes for a ravishing piece of occult-rock revival that draws from its retro influences with great artistry and aplomb.

Songs on Fake History sometimes sounded like they were simply vehicles for Butler’s frenetic performances instead of complete songs. That isn’t the case here, which means that most of these songs aren’t as immediate, but lack of immediacy is generally a good indicator of an album’s longevity, especially in post-hardcore.

So while AGBPOL haven’t exactly reinvented the indie rock/pop wheel with their sophomore release, they’ve still managed to come up with a collection of songs that are more than deserving of your attention.

Killer Mike and El-P release a short, 33-minute record absolutely brimming with ten of the hardest bangers known to man.

There’s absolutely no way Queensryche’s self-titled album will disappoint long-time fans that have been clamoring for a return to what initially made the band special.

All of The Migration’s greatest moments showcase a band at the top of its game, quelling the anxiety fans possessed during the record’s inception.

Comprised of bass-driven pop turns (see the hooky backing vocals of ‘Formaldehyde’) and evocative mood pieces containing occasional flourishes of Americana (courtesy of American co-producer Jacquire King), nothing in the album’s solid latter half will reach out and grab you. However, there is just enough diversity evident in these tunes to stave off indifference and reward repeated listening.

Immunity presents itself as the missing piece of the puzzle, the catharsis we were conditioned not to expect. In this very moment, our preconceptions of Jon Hopkins have been entirely undermined--and there’s little to do but enjoy the hell out of the twist of events.

Magnetic generally lacks the catchiness and vitality of past efforts, as the band tries in vein to reinvent the wheel but fails to accomplish anything as impressive as ‘Iris’, ‘Here is Gone’, ‘Black Balloon’, ‘Let Love In’, [insert hit single here].

While Half Of Where You Live is structured remarkably well, its definitive moments lack that particular magnetism that’s always been at the heart of Gold Panda’s music.

Yeezus is a challenging album. Usually when people say that, they imply that there will be a reward for closer listening, but I’m not sure that there is with this album.

Re-Mit, while able to hold its own in some quarters, is not the best of The Fall by any stretch. However, some of the strange humour and twisted narratives, sorely lacking from their last release Ersatz G.B., are back.

Permalight was an unacceptable rocking of the boat. Nightingale Floors is an all too predictable response, then, safely ensconced as it is in the warm, reverb-heavy sound of beloved predecessors like 2005’s Descended Like Vultures and an atmosphere far more organic in tone and mood than Permalight.

13 is primarily a journey into familiar territory, one that yet again focuses on Black Sabbath's acumen for vintage heavy metal.

It’s easily the most charming she’s ever been--she's no master hunter, but she doesn't need to be.

OneRepublic’s latest effort proves that they are at the top of their respective genre, and it may be time to stop looking at them as the prince waiting-in-the-wings and finally hand them that goddamned crown.