Plague Park shows him mostly nailing the fine bristle of “Modern World” and “Same Ghost Every Night.”

It’s the most lush, symphonic pop music since, well, Wilco’s Summerteeth.

One of the best and most refreshing albums released in a long time.

This material is as inconsistent as anything off their past few records, but when they do hit upon a good moment, it tends to be really good.

Hotel Morgen finds To Rococo Rot with a modestly updated sound, the sort of slight seismic shift that may take millions of years to have its say. They understand what classical composers knew: the next symphony won’t bring utter revolution, but as long as it carries the emotional impact of your intent, it’s a grand success.

Load Blown does more than enough to keep "very" and "awfully," respectively, in the mix.

The Kings of Convenience don’t stray too far from their basic formula of guitars, upright bass, twinkling piano, viola, cello and soft percussion in the background. It’s consistent and it works.

The impeccably crafted Different Days is at its best when it exploits the vocal strengths of Anderson and Costa.

The Fratellis are beyond infectious.

Young for Eternity is the record that US labelmates the Von Bondies should have made to follow-up Pawn Shoppe Heart, and the album that the White Stripes should make period.

Whether the songs are merely half-developed or the sugar-sheen production simply washes them of any potential grit, it seems apparent that the dreaded second album curse hath struck again.

The little things are annoying, of course, like the “that'll do” pointless pop culture punnery namedrops that litter (“Starz in Their Eyes”/”Alicia Quays”), or the way they take up so much time with vocal samples from (old documentaries/self-help tapes) in the same way that a struggling student quotes increasingly large and irrelevant passages of text in a desperate attempt to meet a word count.

Whether it’s the end of an era, the beginning of a new one, or just a lucky break in what looks to be a still-incessant deluge of output, From a Compound Eye bypasses the earlier seven LPs-plus released in his name to mark the emergence of Robert Pollard as a solo artist proper.

Their best album since Dubnobasswithmyheadman.

Hocus Pocus is comprised mostly of fleeting moments of brilliance where it all just coalesces for a moment, and then returns to its MOR state of undeveloped garbage.

This is North London collection-plate-pub music of a very high calibre.

Honeycomb proves too rigid and self-serious to make good on Black’s strengths.

It certainly doesn’t stand up to Dig Your Own Hole or half of Exit Planet Dust, but Push the Button is much better than I’d hoped it would be a few months ago.

Another Day On Earth is more blank than frank, a journey through a hollow land, more discreet than it needs to be. Imagine a recording in which every human error has been scrubbed, like coffee grounds off a formica counter.

The Horrors aren’t horrifying and Strange House is nowhere near strange enough.

Cuts Across offers a surprisingly persuasive clutch of rock ‘n roll that beg for barnstorming live performances.

She’s found the perfect collaborator to match her voracious appetite for all things pop.

The areas where Try This falls down are those where P!nk eschews the eclecticism of the stronger tracks and instead produces bog-standard pop-punk or R&B tracks.

A more straightforwardly uplifting listen.

They sound like little else you’ve heard before.

It's not bad; it just feels like a stopgap to hold fans over until Enon has recorded enough material for a new release.

News and Tributes is a solid album, and its high points are worth listening to over and over. Unfortunately, some of the weaker tracks were given primetime slots.

Certified may be a cinematic holding pattern but it’s a holding pattern in a place--both geographically and artistically--that we can’t hear enough of.