The downside is that, much like his earliest material, Change Is Coming has a light feel that's undeniably enjoyable but also a bit tossed-off.

Throughout this collection, Rye Coalition shamlessly worships at the altar of Kiss, Grand Funk Railroad, and Spinal Tap via weathered, punk-inspired chord progressions, muddy bass lines, lead-footed drum patterns, and hammer-handed guitar riffs that will shake, rattle, and roll hockey arenas until the end of time.

It's hard to shake the feeling that the National is highly influenced by and studied in the bands it emulates, but the album is still worth a listen for fans of moody country-tinged lounge music.

Hanna straddles the line between cheeky and obnoxious throughout.

While the title of this disc seems synonymous with Have Some Leftovers, it's not at all stale, if not nearly as spectacular as its precursor.

A substantial portion of the album is either reverential or referential to a degree that it can sound more like an exercise in homage or a licensing tactic than a distinctive work.

Keem is a necessary, forward-thinking presence in the rap zeitgeist -- but The Melodic Blue is a set of variables and experiments, not the game-changer he's capable of producing.

If this collection of alternate mixes and variations sounds like something you need to hear, it is; if it sounds like a mere curiosity, that is also true. Know yourself well enough to know which camp you belong.

Mercurial as it is in terms of stylistic influence and intensity, the album feels woven together by a modestly shifting shared palette, and lyrics full of yearning and awareness.

The material is arranged chronologically, but beyond that, one set of tunes stumbles into another without making sense of their different sonic and musical characteristics as Iggy's backing bands (none of whom are credited) and musical approaches shift from concert to concert throughout this set, leaving Roadkill Rising in dire need of some sense of focus.

Selling Live Water follows the Anticon party line (double-timed, singsongy half-sensical ramblings countering slow, lumbering beats) through to conscious hip-hop's most logical dead end.

Ambivalent and unexceptional.

When it's good and the band comes across as confident and focused, it feels like they made the right choice to head off into the pillowy dreamland. Other times, when a duff synth sound or a tinny drum machine lets them down, it's hard not to miss the traditional Moon Duo approach.

Given its mercurial disposition and fleeting playing time -- nothing here reaches the three-minute mark -- Lily We Need to Talk Now ultimately feels like a sampler, if one that whets the appetite for more.

It is a more stripped-down affair compared to Broken Social Scene's more ambitious material.

Origami Harvest may not work for everybody, but for those who take the time to explore the unexpected bends and folds in Akinmusire's construction, a wealth of discoveries can be found.

Even with the R&B-leaning roster of guests -- Jill Scott and Snoh Aalegra are also on board -- Alicia is Keys' most moderate work, seemingly hedged with an objective to appeal to as many listeners as possible. There's at least no doubting the artist's intent to heal and uplift, and she puts it across with some of her most nuanced vocals.

Even considering the over-abundance of elaboration on all fronts, it's a credit to Lupe that he has made an album that cannot be processed after one or two listens, and if you have the time, its inscrutability turns into mere complexity.

Recommended for those interested in classical-rock fusions.

Contemplative electronic mood-music in a minor key-

Strangely lovable and lovably strange, sort of like a lo-fi version of the Flaming Lips.

Doom hasn't changed a whit, but by the same token, he sounds like he's repeating himself. Deft diction is one thing he's got in spades, but there aren't many lines here that will get burned into your neurons.

The Fool has flashes of brilliance, but Warpaint need to play to their strengths consistently.

The Baby's combination of breezy melodies and vulnerability makes for an engaging listen well worthy of the promising designation.

This retro vibe is appealing and it also helps undercut whatever lingering sense of fatality hangs over the album, since it suggests that Ride Me Back Home isn't a statement, but rather just another enjoyable record in a long line of enjoyable records.

Once fans shift into the proper gear, [Go] really shows that these guys are capable of something more expansive than anything they've done before.

At just under 30 minutes, it feels like a bit of a lark, but its brevity actually works in its favor, as an extended set of Haines' sneering incantations and electronic skullduggery would likely require a certain amount of intestinal fortitude.