It's an unintentional throwback to Texas' slo-core scene of the Nineties that--despite its eyesore EDM cover art--strikes a compelling balance between glacial pacing and immediate songcraft.

Even in a lower gear, the Truckers are hardly idling.

The much-publicized rift of RZA and his seven other swordsmen glares on 8 Diagrams, production far more experimental and melodic than any prehiatus work. RZA of Renaissance proffers an unequaled vision, and the inability to convince his soldiers to follow suit keeps the disc from being the complete innovation Wu's abbot intended.

Tefloning the lo-fi clang of their 2001, self-titled indie EP breakthrough with Interscope's sugar Daddy Warbucks, Fever to Tell sounds like a tenement rolling, garbage cans bashing some helpless gutter rat.

[Yours to Keep] doesn't have the stylish and sexy six-string swagger one would expect from the 'froed Strokes guitarist, but it does yield enough Top 40 radio gems to spark a small feud with Liam Gallagher.

The underlying want and yearning pulls the songs most effectively.

A burbling psychedelic rain forest that harks back to the vintage wood nymph traditions that once defined the AnCo legacy.

Deep Fantasy falls short of its predecessor's Hellraiser hooks, but only by degrees of fuck-and-run whiplash.

Syro pales next to Richard D. James' groundbreaking best, compared to the plurality of drivel penned as EDM, it'll more than suffice for another decade or until Aphex's next fix comes along. A grower not a show-er.

One of the most ambitious artistic statements of the year.

12th album Lousy with Sylvianbriar strums out a more agreeable amalgam for the veteran Athens, Ga., clown car.

Every subtlety comes steeped in retro classicism.

The Broken West's debut sports a big, masculine sound strangely lacking in swagger but with a sensitivity that never devolves into emo self-consciousness.

Lost in the Dream matches last year's Wakin' on a Pretty Daze from Vile riff for riff.

Led Zeppelin II binds the biggest and baddest of the group's heavyweight first chapter with the thinest of extras, 33 minutes of early mixes and backing tracks.

Few songwriters today write with Isbell's combination of lyrical economy, deep-seated empathy, and masterstroke axe melodies.

Transference is a good album, just not in league with what's become par.

It all adds up to a challenging song cycle.

On Jigsaw, erstwhile Jay-Z protege Lady Sovereign reaffirms that she's the singular queen bee in the hive of the still-buzzing London grime syndicate.

An exuberant return to old-school form.

The electro thread of Wal-Mart bouncer "There's Always Tomorrow" and formulaic struts "Don't Walk Away" and "Can't Slow Down" try too hard, but the balance of Revelation relaxes and, in that down-home groove, thrives.

The resulting Willie and the Wheel is exactly what one would expect from such a musical brain trust: an old-fashioned good time with expert instrumentalism. If anything, the disc could use more dirt under its fingernails, as everything comes a bit too easy.

Scandalous doesn't venture far from its home turf, but that's because Black Joe Lewis & the Honeybears' brand of Southern soul is a breath of nightclub air just how you need it.

Sneer away, jaded hipster. All you're missing is rock & roll being saved.

Sadly, familiar streams – "Matchbox," "That's All Right, Mama," "Big River" – don't yield any gems. Constant studio chatter and fumbled lyrics frustrate rather than charm, and even when duetting, Dylan and Cash's aw-shucks mutual admiration smothers artistic collaboration. Disc three's bonus content with banjo legend Earl Scruggs fares better.

Pop rock rather than space prog, The Color Before the Sun is akin to his beloved Rush's permanent wave goodbye to fantasy epics in favor of radio-friendly AOR.

Gonzo garage maniacs King Khan & BBQ Show offer the aural equivalent to a drunken hook-up: short, weird, messy.

The dark synth pulse of opener "Roseate," driving mad as Gika trills into an effervescent falsetto, sets a tension that flows throughout