If you're a sugar-pop junkie or a [Architecture In] Helsinki-lover, check this one out.

Sagittarian Domain is a noble quasi-failure, an enjoyable and driven jam that, despite its reliance on certain tired tropes of its obvious Krautrock influences, nevertheless succeeds when it focuses its exploration on texture.

The album’s strongest cuts reveal an undeniable energy and excitement on the behalf of its creators, but those moments are much too sparse to draw in many from outside of Putnam’s cult of true believers.

While the concept is admirable and ultimately quite touching, its forays into disorientation, uncertainty and exoticism can make for a rather patchy album.

The first business-as-usual Burma release.

Formerly a more stolidly post-punk outfit, their bread and butter on Remember the Night Parties are the kind of R.E.M.-meets-Superchunk anti-anthems of “For the Khakis and Sweatshirts” and “Return /of Burno.”

Each track feels more like a costume change than a true exploration of new waters, as the group's newfound love of blustery free-for-all psych ultimately has more to do with the members' broad record collections than their ability to function as versatile musicians.

Ironically, the general listening population--if they’re paying attention at all; hey, there’s a chance!--will find this to be Mercer’s most accessible, enjoyable work to date.

Ekstasis is a lovely record. Bedroom pop that floats and swoons, it has a lightness to it at the same time as a real sense of seriousness and ambition.

Zonoscope is far from an outright failure, just more severe of a backslide than expected.

[Unpatterns] contains some of the most mature, atmospheric music we've heard from sirs Ford and Shaw - and, periodically, some monstrous grooves pierce through the ambient haze.

Hendy now seems to be making a bid for the sort of omnivorous, stylistically noncommittal psych-hop that's been relatively popular - marking critically acclaimed hip-hop milestones - for more than a decade now.

Although Ghost has an uncanny ability to pair their improvisational style with recognizable structures, there seems to be something missing in the overall design of this album.

Maniac Meat births a few new wrinkles, but it's the same old Linus blanket: comforting, yes, but worn and approaching threadbare status.

It lacks an authorial voice. Since no one made this album, no vision binds it together with its identity--it doesn’t cohere.

Thee Oh Sees construct a serious approach to a non-serious existence, placing value upon both craft and childishness.

So when the repetitive rhythms of 23 don’t bowl you over like the first synth lines of Melody, allow yourself the opportunity to sit through its entirety. What you’ll find is an album that reveals its true personality slowly, surely, and yes, lovingly.

It’s certainly an enjoyable collection of pop songs, but, unfortunately, it’s mostly innocuous and not as remarkable as past efforts.

At best, the record is filled with remnants of bottled anger and expelled demons. At worst, it’s filled with the kind of angsty cries typically read in pouty 14-year-olds’ LiveJournals.

Of course, songs like the playful “Lost My Head There” and the searching “Dust Bunnies” could just as easily be about the consequences of excessive drug consumption or no-less excessive levels of modern stress, yet the persistence of the self-alienation motif amid slanted nods to his career in music end up strongly insinuating that his growing status as a rock icon is weakening the already weak hold he has over himself.

Schmaltziness is the only real pitfall here.

Bright and Vivid is a solid follow-up, one that delivers the same catchy songwriting as Calder's debut while simultaneously opening her work up to a broader instrumental pallet.

Demanding, absorbing, and, for better or worse, never feeling like a cohesive album, Mother of Curses is a collection of shocking truths set to stun the senses.

While Helplessness Blues is sparser and more restrained than its predecessor, it's also spotted by unexpected flourishes that are almost experimental by the band's traditionalist standard.

On an album that quite simply comes up lacking in spots, they provide a healthy dose of the same brilliant elegance found on "Furr."

The album is still frequently guilty of some of the shortcomings that have plagued the band since "Picaresque."

Despite Beep Beep's shortcomings, they do get over on energy alone.

With Creatures of an Hour, Still Corners prove that they can progress beyond this ubiquitous predilection for visual evocation.