As cunning as it is, Anniemal is also deeply affecting.

It's confident, muscular, uncluttered, tight, and tuneful in a way Oasis haven't been since Morning Glory.

Though it runs out of steam slightly (at least in comparison to the pop art brilliance of the band's best songs) on its second half, Bang Bang Rock & Roll is a terrific debut, and Art Brut is smart, catchy, and fun.

Most of A Certain Trigger's album tracks sound like singles waiting to be discovered.

Even if you already have all the EPs, you'll want to get this disc. It is reasonable priced, housed in the usual attractive package, and hearing all the songs back to back reinforces what an amazing group Belle & Sebastian were and are.

Get Behind Me Satan may confuse and even push away some White Stripes fans, but the more the band pushes itself, the better.

Chavez Ravine is easily the most ambitious thing in Cooder's catalog, and it just may be the grand opus of his career.

Between the perfect production and the genius batch of songs, [it] makes a case for the Pernice Brothers as the best pop band on the planet.

The album comes out as their most organic since 1998's Good Humor; even the tracks driven by programming are warm in comparison to vast chunks of both Sound of Water and Finisterre.

Here Come the Tears is what Coming Up would have been if Butler had stuck around: it's cinematic and bright, lush and passionate, halfway between the incessantly catchy pop that wound up on Coming Up and the sighing romanticism and larger-than-life sweep of Dog Man Star.

Humming by the Flowered Vine is an album that's a joy to listen to without sounding simple or hollow, and resonates with an evocative beauty comprised of both compassion and intellect.

The gravity and changing tides of this engaging self-titled effort help David Pajo warm up, if not transcend the post-rock tag.

This is inspired stuff from a rebel who still has plenty to offer.

It's a bracing and welcome return to form for an important artist.

Alternative rock hasn't seen anything like this since the release of Turn on the Bright Lights. The catch: not only is The Back Room better, it holds promise for even better things in the future.

China is terrifically rewarding.

Maritime might be a light, almost frothy album, but that's exactly where its power lies.

Front Parlor Ballads is built from modest stuff, but the finished product is as strong as anything Thompson has recorded in the past ten years.

While that may disappoint some waiting for a masterpiece, there's no shame in mining the same ground as long as they make records as tight and tuneful as this.

Knitting Needles & Bicycle Bells is the 2005 American indie rock equivalent of the kind of records the Kinks were making in the Village Green era: parochial, intimate, painfully literate, and pretty close to brilliant.

Cole's Corner is glorious, magical, and utterly lovely in its vision, articulation, and execution.

The Weight Is a Gift is Nada Surf's most honest and earnest record to date.

They have never shown such control on a record before -- previously, their best albums were exciting because they went all over the place, and did it well -- and it's quite intoxicating to hear them ride one groove, finding different variations within it, for an entire album.

An album that's not just one of Yearwood's most entertaining albums, but one of her richest records, in both musical and emotional terms as well.

Extraordinary Machine may be more accessible, but it remains an art-pop album in its attitude, intent and presentation -- it's just that the presentation is cleaner, making her attitude appealing and her intent easier to ascertain, and that's what makes this final, finished Extraordinary Machine something pretty close to extraordinary.

The 14-song set is as bright and moving as the band's previous efforts, but Broken Social Scene holds more charisma, more depth, and surely more complexities.

Z is intuitive, intensely creative, classicist-minded, nearly flawless.

Classic without being too traditional or contrived, Tournament of Hearts is the sound of the Constantines operating at the peak of their powers.