It's certainly an all-encompassing, monolithic piece of work, an album that'll make a bunch of people suddenly relieved that there's another Swans album, in a we've missed you kind of way.

It's so smooth, this record, that it's sometimes too smooth, to the point to being slight.

Hurley proves that Rivers still has some gas left in the tank.

With False Priest, Barnes finally seems to be settling into his own skin, cherry picking from his long history and patching it all back together into something that Of Montreal could ride into the new decade. Just no more concept albums, please.

Penny Sparkle's brisk length works to its advantage: music this glacial just can't be endured for too long. But this isn't to say Penny Sparkle doesn't (possibly) foretell a interesting future for Blonde Redhead; in fact, I'd say I'm hoping more than ever before that the band sticks with this newfangled direction, to see if they can work out the kinks and make the kind of record Penny Sparkle could've been.

The thing is, despite their participation in the bustling, creative and innovative 90's scene, Majesty Shredding might just be their best album yet.

What ultimately holds Flamingo together is its consistency; a trait which is not exactly synonymous with The Killers. It could be argued that there is not a single bad song included amongst its ten tracks (although it pays not to closely inspect the four bonus cuts included on the Deluxe Edition of the LP) and all are in some way catchy. It makes for a sound and interesting listen, but one which still leaves listeners a little disappointed.

Lisbon is an album from a band finally using the full palette of their talents to adapt and come out the better for it, and that's a pretty picture to behold indeed.

A Thousand Suns is an extremely well-crafted rock album from a band whose (self-directed) anger is, for once, well placed.

Harlem River Blues is Justin Townes Earle's crowning moment. It's relaxed without being tiresome, vintage without being gimmicky. Most importantly, it's great. The songs are great, the lyrics are great and there's not a weak song on it.

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.

Indeed, Grinderman 2 is actually a far more listen-able record, with far more replay value, and this is what I'll remember when I find myself nostalgic for the dumb simplicity of the first album.

The high points of Pop Negro are where Diaz-Reixa is at his most celebratory and unrestrained and moments like the vocal hooks in "Ghetto Facil" and the stop-start pounding of "FM Tan Sexy" prove it. Unfortunately, the exuberance that bursts out of the clutter of his best songs is a characteristic seen too rarely here.

Airtight's Revenge sounds like he had a lot of **** he needed to work through, but from great talent, and great catharsis, has come great art. It's hard to imagine that this will break through to any major audience, since it's even less accessible than the rejected Love for Sale, but it seriously deserves it.

Personal Life is nothing new for the Thermals, but that doesn't mean that it's nothing to write home about. It still packs enough of a punch to please the most diehard of fans.

While Dark Is the Way, Light Is a Place isn't the album that will make long time fans of Anberlin still holding out for some sort of magnum opus from the band weak in the knees, it is the third straight near perfect album released by them.

Familial plays its cards remarkably close to the chest, much like Selway's work in Radiohead. Selway never asks for attention, but still receives it through his remarkable consistency and precision.

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.

Everything a sophomore effort should be.

All We Grow is still a remarkable debut, a perfect companion for these upcoming leafy fall months, and a huge indication of really good things to come.

I can forgive a couple of transgressions if Teenage Dream redeemed itself with songs that were more than trashy, one-dimensional pop, but, alas, the rest of the album is just as predictable as the VMAs and only marginally more entertaining.

In defence of Surfing the Void, it's certainly not an album I'd describe as 'bad' per se--it's just a massive disappointment.

It's a staggering return from his alleged creative crisis, a terrific addition to his discography, and a wonderful addition to an already fantastic 2010.

The Final Frontier is the kind of record that takes several listens to truly appreciate, but it's definitely worth it.

The music on The Suburbs is as direct and straightforward as Butler's lyrics.

As a comeback album following one of the decade's most memorable flameouts, it reaches all expectations adequately. But considering the late musician you're obviously modeled after (and more disappointingly, the Hella-inspired track to which this album seems to forget ever existed), King of the Beach feels more like an expertly timed marketing ploy.

It's a take it or leave it sort of deal and though I presume that is exactly how it's going to be received among most listeners, there's a fan base here for any romantic fuzz-nerd with a sweet tooth, which considering the success of the inferior Dum Dum and Vivian Girls (of which one plays in Best Coast's live band (with all due respect)) is quite an audience indeed.

Nightmare is a completely different offering; even though it still has highly questionable moments, it's obvious that a genuine effort was put in, and that's enough reason to listen.