Not only are these titles among David Bowie's best--dystopian "Rebel Rebel" rock, Soul Train albinism, and Berlin trilogy precursor, respectively--their refractions here bolster each case.

Volume Two echoes the series' progressively perilous shift toward the supernatural, a track like "Danger Danger" pivoting from the evocation of bike-riding best buds toward the debut of a demoniacal monster in a parallel universe.

Drive North speeds with enough teenage angst and raw vigor to coalesce into an onslaught of gleefully twisted mayhem.

If BS's LP titles sound so corny they're painful, Alex's POV remains imminently relatable.

Muscular production from the Blasting Room's Jason Livermore brings Stephen Egerton's melodic guitar to the forefront, and Alvarez and Stevenson's lockstep percussion sounds downright youthful.

Not without failings, such as the power ballad "Destroyer," the lower points temper the album's explosiveness.

Seventeenth album from the freaky forefathers of California skuzz, A Weird Exits somehow captures Thee Oh Sees at their best.

Not quite a party record, Leave Me Alone fuels messy rock with sunny guitar lines.

Radical rap, strained through absurdity and grotesqueness, Death Grips' fifth full-length effectively services--and disrupts--both punk and hip-hop.

If fans approach this idiosyncratic half-hour listen like a Pollard solo work rather than band output, it assimilates a slightly disjointed but fascinating character study.

Jack Tatum's 2010 debut Gemini and sophomore Nocturne two years later remain solitary swashes of moody guitars and sulky introspection. Life of Pause loses these moments in favor of lush waves of warm electronics and buoyant soul that coalesce into Neon Glo flourishes.

The second LP mines elements from their debut, but pushes bigger and more ambitious with plenty of room left to grow.

With 10 feet in several camps, New Jersey's Dillinger Escape Plan whips back and forth between dissonant thrash and brooding prog rock on its allegedly final studio LP.

Jeffery redefines what trap could be going forward.

Paradise is--like the acute respiratory distress syndrome they're named for--breathtaking and terrifying in equal measure.

No one song stands apart, but Burn Something Beautiful hangs together as one of Escovedo's most entrancing works.

Gifted a falsetto reminiscent of famed Kentucky balladeer John Jacob Niles (1892-1980), his voice soars along rural Americana and across desolate plains ("Where I'm Calling From"). Through the tense, starry twilight of "Outlands," tranquil, meandering rivers and sprawling juniper trees ("Juniper Arms") outline a rocky terrain wherein "Some Beast Will Find You by Name." To that topography, add Adam Torres.

RR7349 mingles the tangible with the abstract to spur a novel meld of both imaginative atmosphere and gripping substance.

LWK doesn't shy away from biting into his heartbreak with gusto, even if his mild-mannered tenor betrays some of his music's much-needed grit.

Like composers Mike Post (Law & Order), Danny Elfman (The Simpsons), or Angelo Badalamenti (Twin Peaks), Survive axis Dixon and Stein's heterodox hard-wiring ameliorates TV's ambient takeaway.

Less swelling, more sand pits, the moments of crescendo here are few and far between.

Skin goes Technicolor and bigger, effectively standing on the shoulders of Disclosure and giant stars including Skrillex, Diplo, and album collaborator/reinventor Beck.

M83 are master recyclers of Eighties soundscapes on 2011 double-album Hurry Up, We're Dreaming. First offering since then, Junk attempts the same, but jumps the shark in the process.

The now-South Carolinians intermittently evoke that inaugural 2006 disc by employing a fresh producer, Grandaddy mage Jason Lytle, who stamps his former band's downtrodden space rock into BoH's festival formula.

Hard rhymes and bouncy hooks, stacked atop big drums and supple synths, hold steady through a barrage of guest spots.

No Burden's Nineties crunch plus its writer's youthful sageness/naiveté fosters a propitious career launch.

The young Brit's debut LP calls into question whether he's the next great electronic singer-songwriter or the worst bedroom-emo dubstep producer.

Tunes borrowing from Oasis and Echo & the Bunnymen via the clean, anthemic sound producer Dave Sardy provided for Jet, the UK quartet doesn't even try to sound new.