While their beginning might have had many labeling Elliott as just another emo band, the growth and beauty in their albums continues to show their remarkable resiliency and evolution.

Stringfellow has concocted a frustratingly obtuse record that's as beautiful and bold as it is shapeless and erratic.

It's hard not to wish that the songs stuck in your head the way they used to, even if it's still enjoyable as a whole.

The Ladybug Transistor is a return to form for the band and is right up there with its best work. That ranks it right up there as some of the best pop music being made today.

A hypnotic, bittersweet, transcendental pop masterpiece.

The Magnificent has an incredible range; Jeff does it all well, even when moving from soulful R&B ("Rock Wit U" with Eric Roberson) to basement hip-hop on the very next track ("Scram" with Freddie Foxxx).

Muzikizum is informed by a slim, spare aesthetic that sounds more 1992 than 2002, evoking simply produced, imperial-sounding tracks from Spooky and Leftfield; in other words, the glory days of progressive house.

Horror and dark electronics fanatics alike will put this one on repeat for days, but its very powerful specificity will likely cut out a swath of listeners not interested in either ravenously dedicated sub-genre.

For longtime fans, Cloud Room, Glass Room offers exactly you desire from PA. For those who've listened in occasionally, enjoyed what you've heard, and are seeking change in Nelson's aural aesthetic, listen elsewhere; this music wasn't made for you in the first place.

The band's overall distaste for sound quality will probably put some listeners off, as much of the record sounds like it was recorded in real time on an old Tascam four-track in somebody's basement, but King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard possess enough pop acumen and oddball charm to lure even the most unsuspecting psych-rock fan downstairs for a taste.

Balancing transparency and grit with a knowing sense of proportion, Long Lost Suitcase, like the two albums that preceded it, demonstrates Jones' enduring strength as a singer as well as a powerful late-career desire to make music that matters to himself, and it's a powerful and welcome effort from one of pop's most powerful vocalists.

As is the case with much of A Sentimental Education, both of those songs [Bob Dylan's "Most of the Time" and Mercury Rev's "Car Wash Hair"] find Luna deftly straddling the line between deep reverence and inspired reclamation, a perfect balance that renders each track a new addition to the band's own storied oeuvre.

Berdan deals with organized religion and his personal conflict of identifying as a Catholic but being repulsed by the bigotry, repression, and hateful acts committed in the name of religion. It isn't quite clear if he comes to a resolution, or if that's even possible. Regardless, The Long Walk is some of Uniform's most challenging, disrupting work yet.

While I Want the Door to Open is likely to both alienate some fans of Lala Lala's rawer early material and capture the attention of new ones, taken on its own, it feels like a deliberately unsettled middle ground.

In all, this is a solid debut full of well-written songs and plenty of attitude that delivers on the promise of her early singles.

It’s a slow burner with nary a hook in sight, and vocalist/guitar player Petter Ericson Stakee’s theatric mumbles can be an acquired taste, but listeners with a CD collection that leans heavily on bands like Catherine Wheel, Sixteen Horsepower, the Cult, and Kings of Leon will find this dense monolith of roots-based stoner rock to be the perfect late-night companion for a dark summer highway.

There are a lot of bands working this angle in the early 2010s; Pinkshinyultrablast is one of the best, and their debut album shows exactly why.

Menace Beach have shown a lot of creative growth in their relatively short existence, constantly homing in on their essential elements and discarding the rest with each new release.

At times, they clearly outpace her singing and lyrics, which often betray the fact that English is a second language. Still, Keren Ann remains a striking songwriter (listen to the interesting device she employs on the title track for proof), while her range of musical techniques has grown.

The kinetic, mini-funk monster "Swimsuits" with Mayer Hawthorne puts it over the top, making the long wait forgivable and the album highly recommendable.

Driving music with an edge that you can get lost in.

For Cave fans who have been patiently and exhaustively compiling this stuff in all sorts of dodgy ways, this set is a righteous archivist's gift.

Le Bon's clever and often abstract turns of both melody and phrase are abundant throughout.

At 67, Baez betrays some vocal aging, but she uses it wisely to impart extra feeling into what is often a downbeat collection of quality songs, and Earle has succeeded in his attempt not to reinvent her, but to re-create her sound and message in contemporary terms.

After an album, 2012's Circles, where it seemed like the duo may have been running short on ideas, adding Jeffrey on drums and shaking up the working arrangements have helped to make Shadow a sterling return to form that gives their best album, 2001's Mazes, a run for its money.

Written and recorded almost entirely in Maine's Manhattan apartment, the album was mixed by Chris Coady (Beach House, !!!) and should play equally well in bedroom headphones and basement nightclubs, and leave many anticipating album three.

High Places' debut lives up to the promise of their singles (and then some) and is hopefully the first of many impressive and inspiring records to come from the duo.

They haven't lost their uplifting positivity or their restlessly inventive production spirit--they just seem to be missing a bit of that Warm Heart.

Smalhans is, like its predecessors, ultimately its own complete, unified statement; one that is, in its deceptively humble way, as ambitious and assured as anything he's done.

Not surprisingly, Luque, a verbose and enigmatic lyricist, is the perfect match for Bejar (they're also both hirsute rock & roll outliers), and the five-track collection requires little in the way of translation.

Happy Birthday may be bedroom lo-fi from the fuzzy sound to the scribbled cartoon cover art, the buzzing guitars to the off-kilter subject matter of the songs, but they transcend any limitations of the style (real or imagined) by writing songs that would be great no matter how they were recorded.

Bitter Drink feels more exuberant than the band's earlier work, upping the tempo and grandeur of the songs in a way that shines a little light on the band's darkness without snuffing it out completely.

It might be easy to take The Raveonettes for granted, or to cast them aside in favor of the latest flavor of the month. Like the rest of their 2010s output, the strength and near-brilliance of Pe'ahi show clearly what a mistake it would be to do either of those things.

Most of the songs exceed the four-minute mark and the lack of an obvious single makes If I Should Go Before You feel even more like a single, lovingly crafted entity.

For anyone who thought MCIII was heading in a direction that sounded promising, Seeker arrives at the destination in a tumbling, exciting cloud of dust, sound and craft.

Willie's voice can sound a bit gruff and rough--this is as comfortable and welcoming as a familiar old leather jacket. It's no surprise that it feels good.

There's a lot of very real talent on display here, and it's fortunate that she's been captured for the ages while she's still fresh and her voice remains unique and very much her own.

Each song recalls the essence of a specific segment of '70s pop excellence, with just enough bizarre twists thrown in to keep things interesting.

Hakim provides consolation that is flavorful and tripped-out. Moreover, it's a little reassuring that he's able to flash some of his pitch-black, bone-dry sense of humor. The first two lines of "Crumpy" in particular should not be missed.

Some listeners may prefer to only focus on one or two chapters in this series, but 5EPS confirms that all of them make the grade, individually and collectively.

While Ty Dolla $ign's street gospel support on the title song is a fine match, H.E.R. more often is too accommodating, most so on the Lil Baby meeting "Find a Way," where she drops de rigueur references to her bag, haters, and one of rap's most popular luxury cars. On a more discreet level, however, "Bloody Waters" -- a heady Kaytranada production tricked out with a delectable Thundercat bassline -- is a brilliant sequel of sorts to her Academy Award-winning "Fight for You."

As an experimental piece of electronic music, Old Punch Card is an engaging and soothing album that will reward the open-minded and baffle anyone who expected the album to carry on in vein of his previous, more Sea and Cake-like efforts.

Compared to their chameleonic debut, The Way and Color sometimes almost feels too consistent, but hearing TEEN's fondness for reinvention focused into songs this good is even more rewarding.

Passionate and self-aware, Plastic Hearts is easily the finest incarnation of Cyrus' music yet.

It could use a couple throw-you-around-the-room rockers in the vein of Turn Me Loose's "Runnin'" and "Knockin'," although some listeners will be so struck by the sustained high level of confidence and grace that it won't be an issue.

Steve Forbert is a wonderful songwriter with a clear and sharply observed vision of how life in the heart unfolds and reveals itself with the passage of time.

Between the fine ensemble playing, the excellent songwriting, and the subtle but superb studio technique, Tightrope is a high-water mark for Chatham County Line, which is no small statement given the strength of their work to date.

Sometimes troubling, frequently joyous, and always articulate and thoroughly individual, Son Little's cross-genre shape-shifting reveals more compelling nuances with each listen, and this is one of the most interesting and rewarding debuts of 2015.

They sound more engaged and electrified on Future Present Past than they have in years.

Spain have been producing subtly remarkable albums since they debuted in 1995, and Carolina shows they've grown remarkably as artists since then.

Ultimately, there's nothing careless about Careless People, and Charlotte OC has crafted a smartly paced album that builds slowly and holds out some of its best moments for the latter half.

It may take Haines another ten years to make her third solo album, but hopefully when she does it will be as richly melodic, subtly dynamic, and emotionally powerful as this one is.

At the age 60, Almond delivers Shadows and Reflections with absolute commitment. On its surface, it is an exotic encounter with the sound of another era, but this is not merely an homage, but a work of tremendous musical vision and emotional depth.

While some of Garson's other albums may have been more overtly groundbreaking, there's something endearing and pure about Mother Earth's Plantasia that resonates even more powerfully decades later.

Weather functions as one would expect of Tycho's vision of a pop album -- it's immaculately crafted as well as relatable, while also smooth and unchallenging enough to warrant repeated background listening.

Self-Surgery's greatest flaw is that there are too many ideas with too little time to work them out, and this may have worked better with four somewhat longer tracks instead of eight short ones. Regardless, this is a bold, brave effort from two artists willing to push the boundaries of their music, and Mrs. Piss is a side project that has more than earned its reason to exist.

Booth manages to ground this music while attempting to push it into the stratosphere, a duality that intrigues and chafes in equal measure, so it's good that he's buoyed by a band who give him a sympathetic bed, which is a comfort not only for the singer but for the listener as well.

It may be a bit disjointed, but Into the Blue offers enough thoughtful songwriting and creative sonics to suggest Broken Bells has matured into the pleasantly offbeat side project it was always meant to be.

The Mountain is a more diverse set than the old Heartless Bastards gave us, it's still rooted in the same emotionally direct songwriting and performing that is this band's trademark, and for all that's changed with the band, Wennerstrom has held on to her core virtues.

Big Dark Love may not make you feel good about the emotion that has driven pop music since the dawn of Tin Pan Alley, but Murder by Death bring a perspective that's honest and heartfelt, and it's a reminder why this group is still one of the most powerful Hoosier acts around.

Add to the mix boundary-pushing production and what might be his most developed set of tunes so far and the album immediately shuffles to the higher tiers of an already stellar body of work.

While the music may seem more scaled back, the lyrics feel rawer and more emotional, even without the use of the screaming vocal dynamic.

Cannibal Courtship is easily Dengue Fever's most consistent, sophisticated, and accessible recording to date, and one that should, with any luck, net them more than a few new fans.

All told, Daughter of Everything is a promising, if somewhat scattered collection of wry guitar pop that nods to the best of the '60s and '90s.

As with their debut, Cosmetics never takes itself too seriously and some of the tracks, particularly on the album's second half, sound like fun if slightly forgettable, garage bangers. In general though, the highlights here are higher, proving that this second effort was one worth making.

Argonauta is, by the nature of its inspiration, a brooding work, but it's also a comfort, providing a place to sit amongst warm tones, elegant harmonies, and pensive understanding.

It might not be as cohesive as their best albums, but the standout songs rival their finest moments.

When combined with the gut-level hooks, this barbed wit results in a record that's simultaneously immediate and enduring: the first listen demands attention, but it's the left turns, in both the lyrics and melodies, that makes Bought To Rot so satisfying.

Definitely an album that's worth listening to on repeat, not only out of necessity, but because it's a refreshingly simple, straightforward album in an increasingly processed and affected era.

Taylor gets deeper into his musical roots than he has on previous releases, creating a powerful set of songs that sound as if they could have been recorded in 1974.

On Afterman: Descension, Coheed and Cambria prove that while they may be more accessible than ever before, it's not for lack of adventure or musical ambition, it's because of them.

Covering more than a decade's worth of songs, the collection underscores that while Beach House's music sounds fragile, it's also surprisingly resilient.

While losing some of the pop appeal of his previous work, Whole Lotta Red represents Playboi Carti coming into a new phase of his artistry, however jagged and disorienting the process may be.

Despite their best efforts to thwart it, Stealing Sheep's intoxicating otherworldliness ultimately wins out.

Impressively, Krell continues to find new approaches within his style; even though Care's clarity is the polar opposite of Love Remains, it feels equally true.

Though the way Pink zigs and zags on Pom Pom can be dazzling or confusing depending on listeners' patience, in its own way it's one of the best representations of what makes his music fascinating and occasionally frustrating.

If Widowspeak keep refining their sound and cranking out memorable and quietly impressive songs like they do here, they may end up being pretty special. Even if they don't, though, this album will still be out there to help soothe and thrill you when you have a post-Mazzy itch you need to scratch.

This is an interesting album, one that will reward repeated listening, but one can't help but think that it's a transitional album, and that Dead Confederate are building to something even bigger and more balanced down the road.

River of Souls finds a way to economically say everything the artist needs to say, touching on myriad ideas and styles, wasting no words, and making it look so easy.

A well-rounded effort with plenty of promise, the posthumous Welcome to JFK is one bittersweet victory.

How Do You Spell Heaven is one of the best and smartest rock albums Guided by Voices have given us since Isolation Drills, and this music confirms Pollard is no dummy when it comes to putting together a band.

Due to its length (nearly 50 minutes), cerebral constitution, and tenuous songs structures, SAP can take some effort on the part of the listener by the end, although its unpredictability, enveloping intimacy and creative restlessness are just as likely to engage.

"Blurring" is an inventive trip-hop diversion, with booming illbient bass, slowly crushing breaks, and a downright lovely vocal hook. It ends up leaving a much bigger impression than most of the other tracks on the album, even if it isn't exactly the type of earworm one might expect from the artist's description of his intentions for the project.

While fans might be disappointed that the album doesn't feature "Herb" Alexander, they'll have a hard time being disappointed with Green Naugahyde, an album that will satisfy those in the know while continuing, as Primus always have, to baffle the uninitiated.

Animal Races comes a bit late in the season to be the smart indie pop album of the summer, but if you want to conjure the mood of a beautiful day in a warm California town, the Cool Ghouls are just the band to do it.

A brief teaser with only eight tracks that last less than half an hour, it's enough to make the promise of the young Nashville native evident.

First Rose of Spring is sweet and elegiac, a record that sways gently in the breeze, only picking up its pace when it's time to swing through a cover of Jimmy Dean's "Just Bummin' Around." Original songs are few and far between here.

While the instrumentals give cause for heads to silently nod in appreciation, only a few tracks break away to make this something other than music suited for the background.

The Gathering is Arbouretum's "bridge too far"; there is no return because this set is a destination, not a development.

If the preceding Dusk at Cubist Castle was the Olivia Tremor Control's very own White Album, then the labyrinthine Black Foliage is their Smile -- it's an imploding masterpiece, a work teetering on the cliff's edge between genius and madness.

It's clear that despite laudable ambitions, comeback albums should be focused and lean, not as flabby as this one.

That hint of edge, of literal weight, adds to the collage of tones on a piece like "Canyon Meadows" or acts as an undertow on the flow of "New Pures," helping to transform that feeling of contemplation while not actually crushing it in any sense.

Shade Themes from Kairos is striking in that it not only hosts a variety of tones and colors based on dynamics, textures, and yes, the illusory stretching of time, but it reflects a true collaboration by principals who are actually investigating what the possibilities of the latter might sound like were it actually possible.

For the most part, the album sounds bright and energetic rather than dark and gloomy, but there's still an undercurrent of sadness to some of the lyrics, such as the heartbroken lament "Gold Star." Even still, this doesn't detract from the ecstatic spirit of the album, which is refreshingly creative and unpredictable.

Highlights are well placed within an astutely paced sequence of short and bittersweet love songs and instrumentals, all substantive and ripe for sampling. ... Piano, strings, and horns have greater presence, providing a lighter, often joyous touch that complements the mostly muscular drums and chunky basslines.

Traversa is sumptuous background music that can brighten the mood or simply soothe the soul.

Sleepless Night is as warm and comforting as a cup of hot chocolate, and while it hardly seems like a major work (and it isn't), it's thoroughly enjoyable and a reminder that you can hardly do better than Yo La Tengo in making a playlist of treasured oldies.