It’s a perfect combination of restrained vocal phrasing with madly creative production and a certain candidate for one of the finest albums of the year.

There’s little about American Head that deviates from the Lips’ usual surreal sound. The overarched arrangements, replete with shimmering rhythms, soaring instrumentation, hushed harmonies and all sorts of cosmic noodling remain intact. If anything, they borrow from early Pink Floyd, hitching a ride to gain interstellar overdrive.

Ford and her band have increased the quality of their brazen, breathless blend of garage-soul to an even more satisfying level with the new Untamed Beast.

If these results reflecting about two years of work in Rhodes’ home studio with producer Chris Price don’t quite capture the vibrancy of his earlier work, they are close enough not to disappoint those who stuck around waiting for them.

His calm, ageless voice is perfect for this material and it’s clear he’s in his element on 13 songs that capture and condense the essence of his Americana blues, soul and country influences.

Finn is still as sharp as ever with his details and as striking as ever with his lyrical gambits.

His latest, instead, is rife with sumptuous arrangements steeped in gorgeous layers of piano and organ, with much subtler licks of guitar sliding in like skin on silk sheets.

Twelve members and five records in and the Dears have made their best album yet -– Degeneration Street is one of the rock albums to live up to in 2011.

Beneath this veneer of mirth and melodrama, there’s an artist who gives full reign to intrigue and intellect in equal measure.

Over the course of 16 tracks, Costello flexes his stylistic muscles and exercises that famously acerbic wit.

It’s Okkervil River’s most mature album yet--coming after six previous records that were already fully formed.

There are no enduring classics here like the songs on 2007's Live At Massey Hall, or anything to rival the material that helped define late '70s AOR from, say, American Stars 'n Bars or Rust Never Sleeps. But this is a record well worth having, and it's a blessing that we still have enduring artists like Neil Young creating such vital music.

It’s the start of a somewhat short but compelling 10-track, 41-minute ride that rocks hard while remaining firmly in country/roots territory.

The result is this consistently enjoyable, often terrific, frequently challenging 11 track, 51-minute aural rocket ship exploration quite rightly tagged “delirium” by its duo of frontmen.

It's his easiest, least labored sounding record in years, still lushly produced yet not overly fussy.

While this is far from anything that may land on commercial radio, there are just enough compositional moments on Burnside’s finest set to push it a little closer to widespread acceptance while maintaining the tough, raw foundation of the uncompromising music that came before. And… you can dance to it.

Hag’s lyrics always feel natural and lived in and Bogguss succeeds with his material because she doesn’t try to oversell it.

The concept of “country rock” seems clichéd at this late date, but Shook and band exemplify how that amalgamation remains effective when the writing, singing, and lyrical concepts are as sharply conceived as on the illuminating Revelations.

It all coalesces into one of the more impressive, duskier (Am I living in a nightmare daydream? she asks in the mid-tempo title track) guitar-driven albums of the year.

Even on slower material, like the teary closing six-minute ballad “I Think About You Daily” featuring stressed, experimental strings arranged by Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood, Hynde injects so much riveting emotion that few will be disappointed.

With any luck, he’ll have plenty more gas in his tank to release albums as rugged, diverse and memorable as this in the foreseeable future.

El Dorado is an inspiring and impressive work displaying another side of King’s talents, albeit one that he has shown glimpses of in the past. It’s certainly his most expressive and arguably finest recorded moment.

Magpie is chock full of tracks that show the Avett Brothers are (very wisely) growing their sound, while remaining true to their core principles and what listeners like about them to begin with.

Be The Cowboy is a standout because of its restlessness, Mitski winding each lonely melody through the peripatetic music and always landing someplace unexpectedly moving.

Ultimately, it’s the cheery calypso flavor and uplifting sentiments of “Better Days” that offer a hint of hope. With that in mind, this particular Settlement ought to be one that long-time fans find easy to accept.

Dropping a few songs would have made this stronger overall, but there is no escaping the spooky, druggy vibe created over the course of an hour’s worth of pretty yet eerie and ultimately edgy music.

It’s when you start listening a bit closer that the nuance of the writing, the subtlety of the arrangements, and the magical interplay of the two voices, in harmonies alternately high-spirited and heartbreaking, start to break you down and leave an indelible impression.

This album demands the full attention of the listener, an old-school concept; those that put the most into it will get the most out of it. Dig in. It’s worth the effort.