It ends up sounding in love with pop music and longer-form experimental music as well, but the mood captured, and the meditative speed it's captured at, plunge Heartbreaking Bravery into new depths.

Rich and intelligent, it's a welcome blow of muted midnight compulsions, swimming in its own tides against the sea of bombast and extravagance that's taken root in recent years. Underwater dance music at its finest.

It's his freest record, musically speaking, and in its bloodstained lyrics, which run the gamut from cautionary to vindictive to self-loathing, it opens up a side of White that previously has been impenetrable, wrapped up in his own self-mythologizing persona as he was.

A&E is a record that has the propensity to entice fans old and new across the genre spectrum.

What does set this apart from Actress' earlier pieces is the incredibly organic feel that this album seems to thrive on.

Wreck, their seventh full-length effort, is pretty much everything you would come to expect from an Unsane record.

These aren't ferocious songs and they aren't always playing with everything on the forefront, and it's compelling to see that; the band has rounded up the edges of their songs and put them into the ground.

California 37 erases Train's original identity, simply leaving us with a train wreck.

The primary drawback here is that even though the album does occasionally ascend to great heights, it spends at least the same amount of time strolling through monotonous buildups that never really reach their destinations.

Illusion is a decent release, but it doesn't differentiate itself from anything Fleet Foxes would have written.

Disappointingly, Our Version of Events, with the exceptions of "Heaven" and "Daddy", is as flimsy and mushy as they come.

A strong-willed, beautifully composed piece of modern day indie-folk.

While Transistor Rhythm ends up as the superbly-produced album that Addison Groove has always hinted at, it's the uniform sterility and refusal to tread water beyond the reach of his peers that stops it from succeeding beyond anything more that simple idol worship.

A Wasteland Companion at first seems unsure of what it wants to be or where it wants to go, vacillating between various genre exercises rooted in a common retro theme, but by the end it reaffirms what those who've loved Ward's old work have always known.

A great vocal performance and solid musicianship from the backing band result in a record well worth the time.

Rooms Filled With Light is more than an interesting transitional release, it is a bold and moderately successful grower which will reward the patient.

Weapons feels so full, so intentional, that it's hard not to get dragged into the chorus of people that will doubtless lock arms to these songs live.

Wonky is a work full of many flaws and too few shining moments, but as ammunition for the obvious tours to follow, there's enough here to be effective enough in a large enough setting.

It is a ferocious and captivating listen that twists and turns through the deepest darkest depths all the while pushing forward into new sonic territory.

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.

None of these songs will top the charts, and none of them are very immediate, but they work together like a well-oiled machine that delivers a relatively accurate depiction of how you might feel while reading the book or watching the film.

In the end, what we have is a record that pushes towards an extremely promising new direction while still managing to maintain the band's adored personality.

Ultimately Kids in the Street will go down as a solid album that is an ambitious and interesting grower... Nothing more, nothing less.

Sonik Kicks rather helpfully lives up to its name.

Shinedown has the raw talent to keep Amaryllis afloat, but the album is full of holes and it always appears to be on the verge of sinking.

The album is still very much a tale of two cities: for every half-baked wobbly anthem that the rooster-haired cockney thug has in his pocket he still manages to surprise with an occasional outburst of borderline genius.

Ghosts, at surface level, appears to be cut from the same futuristic mold with its uninviting and foreboding artwork and premise, but closer inspection finds album no. 8 to be the artist's most approachable album to date.

By making precise tweaks and adjustments to their sound by approaching Koloss with a new attitude, all the while holding fast to their core strengths, Meshuggah have given us the first truly engaging metal album of 2012.

This is Merritt in designer mood, playing with layers and music. The joy is found in watching it take shape.

All in all, The General Strike is all we can really ask for from Anti-Flag these days: a solid set of tunes for the pinko bastard in all of us.

There are moments here worth returning for time and again, but not much to put Eternal Turn of the Wheel in the same level of esteem as its distant predecessors.

Port of Morrow seems much more a step sideways than forward for Mercer, not so much a dramatic comeback but more a compilation of greatest hits masquerading as new songs.

Even though it can be repetitive at times, it still possesses enough standout moments to keep it from fading into oblivion.

As a band, Yellow Ostrich is in its infancy, and it's forgiveable that they haven't quite found the best way to show their hand both as a unit and as separate entities at this stage.

That decision to expand their sound and focus more on the links between where they were and where they want to go is the true treat of Happy to You.

The end result is a mish-mash of styles that leaves this LP somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean at the turn of the millennium.

'Prisoner' is unquestionably a captivating LP where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, since the cohesive nature of its songwriting is clearly intended to suit a beginning-to-end listening experience and enhance longevity.

Anarchy, My Dear fails because it tries to recapture things that Bemis just doesn't seem to have right now--true discontentment and anger and venom.

While Elemental isn't quite on par with their earlier material (more than a few tracks here are simply nothing more than feedback loops, as if the group were deliberately trying to sound scary instead of just simply being scary), as a whole package it's still a genuinely disturbing yet fascinating experience from two men truly caught up in a dialogue that only they seem to be able to hear.

Though it's a lengthy record, at just over an hour, it's a rewarding one.

For its new fond feeling and its quick animal stride, t offers something that we can all be swept up in, and all from the moment "Animal Life" gets close.

A phenomenal record by a band at a creative peak that's as fully realized and as utterly terrific as the myriad other peaks they've hit during their brief but already illustrious career.

The album's production is without needless fanfare and benefits from it immensely. It allows the weighty three-piece to shine without trickery.

It's an important album for Scuba, as a means of transition, of mastering his new craft. It's just not a terribly important album for the rest of us.

Dream pop, goth, shoegaze--call it what you want, but what School of Seven Bells have ended up with is a genuinely gorgeous record by any standard.

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.

While Dark Adrenaline doesn't break down any barriers and won't win any points for originality, it is still a very solid release and probably the best thing Lacuna Coil have done in almost a decade.

While it contains next to no filler, includes a sufficient amount of enjoyable anthems, and is musically accomplished (Ben Jolliffe's drums are especially impressive, the dual guitar attack is competent and the sparingly used keys are wise), Bones is predominantly a consolidatory release.

What results is another quality release that cannot help but make music fans excited for what this gifted outfit are to bestow upon us on their next offering.

To put it simply where Treats was the party soundtrack, Reign of Terror is the entire party.

Essentially the best debut album of 2010 thus far.

The energy and personality which flood out of every melody give this album its own stamp of authority.

The result is something that feels like an exotic journey and a familiar stroll all at once, and the comfort-to-exploration ratio is perfect.

Like a pang of guilt does he sample his former self, like a torch carried to its final flicker of illumination. And to hear all that, to be able to almost feel that happening, is to bear witness to an artist working at the apex of his talent.

The main problem with most of the songs on Grand Hotel stem from The Explorers Club's inability to moderate pretty much anything.

[Maybe for] the first time, A Sleep And A Forgetting gets at the heart of an artist who, over years of project changes and name switches, has remained frustratingly opaque.

Though it never explodes, No One Can Ever Know comes to its unnerving climaxes at just the right points and feels in its own right like a totally cohesive recording of something dark and unforgivable.

Awesome record.

As a whole, Sharon Van Etten really hits the nail on the head with her third try.

All of the material here is passable, with a few highlights that will surely leave a positive impression on listeners.

Love What Happened Here is still another compelling listen from perhaps the biggest sensation of 2011.

Scars & Stories may be nothing more than a pleasant retread of The Fray's established style, but it does a commendable job of delivering quality in lieu of novelty.

For much of Paralytic Stalk's first half and even for most of the more unhinged second act, Kevin Barnes strikes a near-perfect balance between pop mastery and a delightful sort of weird.

It's by no means the work of art that it accompanies, but it's almost as endearing and charming as that begrudging look of acceptance on the countenance of the moon at the sight of its unwelcome guests.

A Different Kind Of Truth is ultimately an accomplished, hard-rocking record that somehow manages to not sound too dated.

Fantastic songs that have an uncanny ability to lodge their way firmly into your head.

Le Bon is doodling, but as she refines it, CYRK becomes a clear piece of work with a well-clarified core.

One of 2011's premier releases in alternative rock.

Visions often feels suspended in the best way possible, both in time and space.

The worst thing about Born To Die is that even its great songs contain problems.

It is far from perfect yet could never possibly get there.

The problem with MU.ZZ.LE is that, as a self-produced effort, it blatantly lacks the restraint that might otherwise have seen this become something truly extraordinary.

The artificial sense that permeates as a result of the album's forced nature may be its largest detractor, and it is one damning flaw whose shadow Human Again can't seem to escape.

It's a nice project that might have been put to better use as a one night only concert, because it's certainly not the crucial next step in the continued evolution of this otherwise fascinating duo.

Slightly more reserved (nothing on the record quite reaches the energy of "When I Write My Master's Thesis"), it is nevertheless capable of things a Weakerthans record might not always be.

Resolution stands tall as a heavy metal record that flawlessly combine technical proficiency with sheer songwriting talent.

Clear Heart Full Eyes is entirely at ease with itself, rarely forcing the issue beyond the gently affecting, but affecting is definitely the right word.

These ten mostly filler-free tracks prove, Nada Surf only look to be growing more confident in their old age.

Thus when taking in Attack on Memory as a whole, it sounds as if Cloud Nothings are, despite their best efforts, a pop band at heart.

Is it a question of [Moore]simply not caring, or does he actually believe that his fans are too stupid to not realize any clear lack of progression and that they're simply being force-fed the same half-assed bass trends again and again and again?

An ethereal but slightly disappointing album for the masses.

For those who don't mind a slight drop-off in substance, Future This packs all the energy needed to fill arenas and get people jumping and swaying in a U2-inspired trance.

Another drug-induced and psychotic chapter in the kaleidoscopic and perplexing saga that is the life and times of one Quentin Dupieux.

For its obvious melodic strengths, though, EP is a tease, slowly removing one layer at a time until its heart is revealed.

The record's ADD can be felt with every unbridged leap between ideas to its shocking lack of transitions, and the whole time there is this pervading sense that Heritage doesn't really have anything to say at all.

A completely brilliant beginning to what hopes to be a long and bright career.

It's just a sludgy, grumpy record from a band who once knew pop music needed whimsy.

Any halfway interesting endeavor is either quickly discarded or frustratingly bereft of further exploration and expansion.

Common's latest shows him with his head in the clouds and addressing the same tired crowd with the same speech he's been writing for years.

Most of the tracks emulate what could be B-Sides of a post-Lemons Ant, doing nothing so groundbreaking as regurgitating mid-90's soul.

When they are on, they are very good, as their relaxing – yet strangely dance-worthy – grooves seem almost effortless. Yet, way too often, the duo simply bite off more than they can chew, meaning that when they are off, a 2nd listen almost seems like a chore.