TBD, on the other hand, wrangles with value-laden mindlessness in a manner that is both fun and endearing. TBD succeeds, in other words, on the merit of its recontextualisation of current trends into a project that is equal parts soapbox and sellable product.

Overall, I is an interesting record, mainly due to Follakzoid’s uncompromising efforts to cross boundaries between electronic music and psychedelia. Nevertheless, it might be too much to take in in one setting, unless you really are in the mood or on drugs to drift away while listening.

The sheer joy of hearing the guitarist back and fully committed to blink, giving his all to the style of music that was his first love, is more than worth the price of admission here. Kicked off by the "Always"-nodding synthpop "Blink Wave", Hoppus takes the reins for a more experimental back half where the album really comes to life.

Most of III/IV come off as what you'd expect; a massive talent messing around in the studio and crafting some perfectly serviceable rock tunes.

All in all, Sand + Silence is an accomplished blend of rock, indie, and pop.

As a result of their indulgence, The Night Creeper feels somewhat forced to be something it isn't. The mindset is far from what we heard on Vol. I and Blood Lust, although the ideas are the same. Recycling is good, however, 4 albums later it turned against them.

Unfortunately, Beacons Of Ancestorship may leave listeners concussed; as there are only a handful of memorable musical fragments.

Off With Her Head is a solid album, well-produced and with occasional moments of brilliance, but ultimately it’s the singer’s blandest effort to date, its best moments offering little more than a bittersweet reminder of what it could have been.

Ufabulum is perhaps not a terrible album in any respect, but at the same time it simply is an incredibly boring one.

Overall, The Gaia II Space Corps is the most focused Motorpsycho album yet, crafting a truly cohesive listen from start to finish.

Arch Enemy seem content with resting on their laurels, and while that may please the kind of fans who are upset that In Flames haven't be repackaging Whoracle for the past ten years, it ultimately lacks substance.

It is something brand new and completely unexpected.

The changes Murder by Death have brought with Red Of Tooth and Claw are a sufficiently demanding and acceptable result.

Though it lacks depth, the music is exceptionally pretty. And rather than epiphany, Samia finds satisfaction in brief, glittery moments of quiet revelation.

The Amulet won’t necessarily bring instant gratification to all of its listeners, and it’s difficult to assess how it will be perceived by dedicated Circa followers. However, it is certainly one of the most well-composed alt-rock/post-hardcore albums of the year, and it seems to bring a newfound sense of maturity to both the songwriting and production aspects of the group’s sound.

Even though the change in sound might alienate the most stubborn of fans, what they gain on their Barsuk debut is a new found sense of direction and a grandiose vision that stretches farther than the confines of math-rock ever could.

Although it's a little inferior to Stars of CCTV, Once Upon A Time In The West is a good album, make no mistake about that.

It's a whimsical exercise that allows the Melvins to test their limits with an agenda that pushes them to break away from typical patterns and artifices. Yet, even as they explore what it's like to take on the personas of their influences, the Melvins still manage to sound surprisingly natural throughout.

It’s all very Ryan Adams-esque, and the overall quality of the songs here live up to that comparison. Caretakers is at its best when it leans right into its own clichés. The more romantic, summery, and spellbound the music is, the more successful the album becomes.

Their self-titled LP is diaphanous and elusive, but leaves the listener deeply moved nonetheless.

It’s not all bad, but one can’t help but think that this fifteen-track recording is a long album for someone with nothing to say.

[A] thrilling and possibly definitive album, it's impenetrable, multifaceted, and irrepressibly imaginative.

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.

Kantos isn’t all bad, but it is his worst album yet. It’s somehow both too cluttered and more conventional at the same time, and the lyrics, while pretty most of the time, don’t hit as hard as they did on this record’s predecessor.

Crash Love doesn’t demand the listener’s attention to the same degree as Decemberunderground did, but closer inspection reveals a more intricate and well-constructed album.

In essence, this album sounds like Death Magic if Trent Reznor had gotten a hold of it. They’ve subverted the congenial elements associated with their last record to make some of the band’s darkest incarnations yet.

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.

Stars are quickly carving out their own niche among their peers. And in doing so, they're writing some of the most fluid and organic music of their lives.

Given the great work apparent on the album’s first half, it’s a pity to see the album slide to a close so disappointingly.

Unlike past efforts, however, Ti Amo is jarring for how glossy and smooth everything sounds.

The World Is Yours won't set the world alight with insightful lyrics or experimentation, but that isn't what we've signed up for. This is an LP that just does not let up from the get go.

There are a couple groovy licks scattered here and there which are half decent, but otherwise it's a tepid exercise in mediocrity difficult to even feign interest in.

Estoile Naiant is an invigorating, perplexing journey through the post-modern contextual climate of the information age that has synthesized an almost completely new narrative for the future generation of music, one that is both progressive and retrospective all at once.

It is overbearing, pretentious, huge, and begrudgingly catchy, but most importantly, it unveils a band without direction.

Quite simply, Mechanize corrects all of the band’s past missteps including those made prior to Dino’s departure. It is a collection of everything that made them great without any of the extraneous influences that came later.

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.

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

Although it might not be his most cohesive or strongest collection, the man manages to cater to every fan. He sticks what he knows best and that's how we want hi

The point is to not look at What a Time to Be Alive as any sort of triumph of ambition and music, but rather as a solid assortment of irresistable bangers from two artists for whom that shit comes easy. It's not the accomplishment, it's the victory lap.

Felt, in turn, is not Suuns going through the motions; it's Suuns putting down their guitars and dusting off the synthesizers and scrounging up less than stellar material.

Timewave Zero isn’t going to fuel everyone’s jet, and those looking for another slab of progressive death metal madness are sure to be miffed. Comparatively speaking, this little group from Denver set the bar dizzyingly high with their death metal albums one and two, but regardless of preference, Blood Incantation continues to impress—resetting the timeline as they go.

In its simplicity lies a uniquely Eels beauty, realistic and wise. It may be unsure, yes, and there’s certainly some fresh horror around the bend, somewhere, but perhaps that future is more promising than what came before.

Time Team, while displaying shades of true brilliance, is simply an album that doesn't know what it wants to be, and makes the adjustment to compensate for its lack of identity far too late; which is odd, given how well it was doing up until that point.

Mean Everything to Nothing is an excellent record, but no better or worse than its predecessor. It’s just different.

Queen’s greatest asset is Nicki’s dual propensity for virtuosic verses and catchy pop elements. She skillfully blends them on the album’s best tracks.

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 very fun listen.

Temporary Pleasure is a glitterball of an album, shining just right when the light hits and falling where it doesn’t, but like any party, it’ll get you moving if you’re in the mood.

Despite its long gestation period and pristine production, it sounds as though no one believes in What Matters Most less than Folds himself, and this bleeds through every single vocal performance and instrumental arrangement on the record.

Of Monsters and Men use Fever Dream to reject the expectation that they’re nothing more than a “made-for-radio” indie folk band, and based on these results I’d tend to agree with them. This could be the group’s strongest offering to date, and it’s a noticeable few steps outside of their comfort zone. Here’s to hoping that they continue to wander astray.

PP&DS is self-indulgent, silly, messy and heartfelt. It's Cudi at top songwriting form, and the songs on it are arguably the best he's ever written.

It will be bettered, as surely as night follows day, but there might not be another album released in the next 12 months that offers the same delirious, sugar-coated enjoyment, let alone one that matches it with Kapranos' casually whip-smart lyrics.

Nothing feels forced, the tunes’ order plays like a summary of a night long DJ set that starts slow and ends at the crack of dawn with downtempo/trip hop. Some are highlights, others fly by making less of an impact, yet they are not throwaways. Despite being released as separate singles, the LP plays very well as a whole.

Pop music this shiny and smooth always captures our ears but rarely captures our hearts. Even if the same is true for the sticky sweet Good Grief, it provides a silver lining for Lucius to aspire towards.

Minaj’s latest release is a complicated being, one that might never sit easy, but the layers she provides for the listener to peel through provide for an engaging and ultimately satisfying experience.

The bookends of this record show flashes of potential--with gems sprinkled in between--but far and wide, this is a disappointingly vanilla offering from a group that has already proven itself to be capable of ensnaring our minds and ears. If you’re looking for a silver lining, though, at least these guys have matured.

There is no time to make sense of preceding chaos, probably because there is nothing worth making sense of.

She’s always had a knack for writing both flashy and tender pop melodies, but on her latest album she knocks each number clear out of the park. It’s a delightful smorgasbord of all things Regina, complete with the richest selection of music she’s ever offered up on a single album.

On balance, Lost Worker Bee simply does not do enough to distinguish itself from the rest of Elbow’s oeuvre, and therein lies its greatest failing.

III is acceptable only to the loyal fans, as it ultimately does little right and sees Periphery at an all-time creative low, failing to improve on any of their faults. For all the instrumental complexity and quirky songwriting choices, it will just sound forced to most.

They are an emotionally rich dialogue that is so easy to relate to, it's hard not to get lost in his sentiments.

Sparks is an album containing its share of diamonds, but only if you’re willing to sift through the rough in order to find them.

In all honesty, For All Kings is great, but it is definitely front-loaded. It could have used a few more thrashers down the line to really push it to the next level, but it is still the best thing they’ve done since Persistence of Time.

Although there's nothing innovative about it, at least they brought the guitars back, offering us a handful of groovy tracks among all the kitschy bonanza. The LP is stagnant in the grand scheme of things, but that's good for them. It could've been much worse.

Everything a sophomore effort should be.

In terms of overall quality though, it has to be said that things noticeably pick up in the album's second half, as any traditional indie rock sensibilities that Gibbard may have initially had start to recede and are replaced by a grittier, slightly more abstract edge.

To be blunt, Tesseract are entirely too reliant on ambiance as their "secret sauce." Where a proper use of ambiance can add a pensive tone or an opportunity for emotional reflection to a song, Tesseract rely on it both as cohesive glue on nearly every track on Sonder and as a melody replacement. It's simply not enough.

Danger Days definitely isn't worth it. If nothing else, it makes me interested to see where they'll go from here, but I find it saddening that the most likely future for them seems to be a breakup after this uninspired mess of an album.

The strength of The Ridge isn’t really in how it evokes emotions, or even to showcase Neufeld’s maturing skills, though it accomplishes both. Moreso, it succeeds in how it makes an indeterminate landscape worth trekking.

As it stands, Earth is a subtle and enjoyable little singer/songwriter album that highlights Ed O’Brien’s songwriting prowess.

This is an album that might be best digested in smaller doses, in order to avoid the feeling that all these songs sort of just wash each other out--but there’s no denying that Blaqk Audio have stumbled onto something really entertaining here.

The good thing is this second record, Born Pink is a slight improvement overall, feeling a tad more cohesive, despite its modest runtime of 24 minutes. Their debut was simply a mixed bag of tracks thrown there to please the horde of fans who insisted on a full length release.

Unfortunately, Wolf fails in the very same manner as Goblin, albeit with slightly more class.

Soulful and bluesy in a way that still acknowledges the existence of the various strains of cutting-edge electronic music emanating from the UK, Mirrorwriting is one of 2011's most assured and confident debuts.

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.

Subtly exploring pop, soul and contemporary R&B, the nineteen year old recalls everyone from Lauryn Hill to Alicia Keys, and Lorde to Rihanna, on this thirty-five minute record... Often within the same song!

From Zero is a tale of two halves. The first half feels like pandering to what people miss from Linkin Park. .... However, by the time “Overflow” rolls around, a switch flips. Though it’s more of a Shinoda track, it sets the stage for a strong second half, with its dark and captivating atmosphere and simplistic instrumentation that makes it a powerful standout. From this point on, From Zero maintains momentum.

It’s still a strong album with several standout moments, but these great moments are often hampered by the inchoate themes and parched ideas surrounding it, making the album feel at times unfinished.

With its return to a more straight-forward approach, ‘This Addiction’ does hark back to the likes of ‘Goddamnit’ and ‘Maybe I’ll Catch Fire’. Unfortunately, while not being a bad album, it is not a patch on those seminal earlier releases…. Simply a solid recycling of their much-loved sound.

In keeping with Givers' multi-dimensional aural assault, it only makes sense that vocals would also come from multiple sources. While drummer Kirby Campbell occasionally lends a hand, it is predominantly Guarisco and Lamson who brilliantly deliver the boy/girl dynamic on show here.

It has all the enjoyable little quirks of New Found Glory's earliest material, and most of the songs have the potential to stay lodged in your brain for days.

And it does seem that way here[on this album], that Gold Panda has made some kind of discovery that will be looked back on in a few years time as a defining statement to the turning tides of dance music extravagance.

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.

There's pure pop gold to be found here, but also envelope-pushing alchemy that turns these songs into unforgettable aural expressions of joy.

Even if a few songs don’t quite leave a lasting impression, Dreams of Being Dust on the whole does.

More often than not (and this is the kicker, ladies and gentlemen), Pretty. Odd. is just pretty dull.

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.

Dense, satisfying, and fun--this deserves to go down as one of the peaks of baroque pop in recent years.

Get Awkward, as an album, is a step up, and it certainly has highs and lows, but what I’m really missing here are things like "Bicycle Bicycle, You Are My Bicycle" or even “October, First Account,” songs that really stick out.

Overall, this is unmistakably a Banks album, so if you've liked anything she's done so far, this is definitely worth checking out. Despite some of the shifts described above, her darkness is still there, and it is still equal parts inviting and off-putting.

At its core, The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here is a rock solid record that sees Alice In Chains settling in the confines of their own style.

Liturgy of Death is still a decent slab of black metal, but for a band that has released so many classic albums full of banger riffs, hellish drum performances and demonic vocals, this album just doesn't measure up.

The new outing from the Nordic rockers may not be as essential as Sister Faith in the long run, but it certainly makes for a highly pleasurable listen.

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.

Everett has stated that Tomorrow Morning is an album of redemption, and being so it beams with a warm and understated jovial jaunt that never outlives its welcome and is omnipresent throughout the album.

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 is a hodgepodge of stupid ideas that one will either find brilliant or, well, stupid. However, it is hard to deny that it is a pop album of massive ambition and yet, suffers from none of the pretentiousness that plagues most of the Killers contemporaries in that aspect.

The flow of Times of Grace's debut is so jagged and stop-start.