Only a music fan obsessed with the rules of authenticity and the requirements for lyrical profundity could find fault with the 11 odes to overload that make up Hot Mess.

Spirit If . . . takes plenty of time to revel in the beauty of its surfaces.

A no-frills, consistently engaging album with heart - and hooks - to spare.

F*ck Hurricane Irene - Hurricane Grace is this year's force to be reckoned with.

Despite all these lyrical dalliances, there's one of the best house albums of the year somewhere in these songs--you just have to agree to their terms.

Special note to the freakazoids who think "Starships" killed hip-hop: the rapper who rhymes "fri-vo-lous" with "po-ly-ga-mist" is X-Acto sharp as ever.

These songs (which include settings of three Shakespeare sonnets) are so well-tempered with raw, emotional moments that the album never seems dour or austere. On the contrary, this is one of his most personal, sanguine releases.

Heart of My Own amplifies guarded things, a tuneful prototype of new-century folk intent on having its voice heard.

It's infectious, and though the album is heavy in inspirational debt, Passive's highs are tantalizing enough to lure you to come for a bright-eyed joyride.

Visitations finds Clinic four albums into their career, but they launch each new tune with the unhinged spirit of a band who are just discovering the power of rock.

There are rare glimmers here, but maturity sure is sobering.

Fascinating speed-bumps aside, it's a mission still very much accomplished.

Women + Country sets the standard for new-century conformist rock--a genre far less boring than that phrase might suggest.

At the end, after his inevitable untimely death, all anyone will care about will be the stately grandeur of the opening (and closing) music coupled with the star’s eternal blank stare: unknowable, unfathomable, and ultimately tragic. We’ll have to wait for the movie; fortunately the soundtrack is already here.

Seven great tunes... and... three dull ones.

Normal Happiness... could be one of his most satisfying sets.

It’s a low, slow groove that might be coming out of the bodies of the musicians as much as their instruments--echoey, held back even at its most intense, every note sung or played with a determination not to force anything.

As a wholly serious project, Warp Riders is self-indulgent and only passable.

Very few of their melodies go anywhere memorable, and when they do, they never go anywhere else. ("Courage" plays like one long mid-tempo drone.)

It's a minimalist approach that started on the Soft Moon's outstanding 2010 self-titled debut full-length, and continues here with each composition taking on an overall instrumental feel despite the occasional presence of lyrical accompaniment.

For anyone bored of being bored of being bored, strap this one on and ride away.

The year's most outstanding rock album.

Although some may find the noisy rambunctiousness and jarring bursts offputting, Hill imbues Straits with an irresistible playfulness, and his talents as a drummer (and a frontman) will leave listeners dumbstruck.

It's one of 2011's finest pop records: 10 tracks of dreamy, weirdo hi-fi pop that grooves, sparkles, and hums with clipped beats and smooth drums.

Frontman Ross Flournoy and his mates kick up a ramshackle jangle-pop racket that gets its energy from always sounding as if it were on the verge of falling apart.

Song of the Pearl may not be full of surprises, but it provides a fresh trip through familiar territory that's more than idle nostalgia.

Aside from the highlights, though, other cuts here fall short of album quality, especially the last three selections, which are paint-by-number displays of chops and over-seriousness.

In a sense, the veil is lifted ever-so-slightly with this new [album]: although they still wump you with weird on sonic gauntlets like "Molochwalker" and the title track, they also hit on some great choruses and comprehensible songcraft that, unlike most of their earlier work, is commendable for something other than the effort it took to create it.