The strength of Comfort Woman's first half quickly diminishes as the ideas run dry.

There's sweet regret but no apology in Horses and High Heels, and though the lyrics of Faithfull's title track tell a different tale, the image is universally and resolutely one of female youth.

Live Music opens with the roguish piano line of "Me and You" that simultaneously pops like a spark and settles lazily into Ryan Sambol's moaning vocals, setting up the freewheeling aura that permeates the A-side.

It's both hip-hop fashionable and cheesy banal packed into one vibrant and romantic spree.

When today transcends tomorrow, as on 1979's Rust Never Sleeps and Freedom a decade later, there's no stopping this "Old Man" whose '59 Lincoln Continental drives these latest headlines.

Honduran Aurelio takes the Garifuna mantle from his late, great mentor Andy Palacio (ACL Music Festival 2007), further evolving the musical moment an African slave ship broke free to the Caribbean.

At 34, Paul Banks writes bitter adolescent songs, and his namesake proves he still makes it sound true.

While the album revels in retro cross-pollination, and the title track's dream that "It won't be long before we all belong to love," echoes Lennon's counterpoint of responsibility throughout, Dr. Dog's zealous frivolity is infectious but ultimately fleeting.

These 16 songs in 16 minutes are a lean demonstration of hardcore punk purity that only lacks memorable songs.

If this album were about four songs shorter, you could hear its beat better.

There's wandering to endure, but if you can find the hook, let it grab you.

Consentino's certainly got an ear for a hook, and her trio makes good use of them, but you can only sing about your cat, weed, and loneliness for so many songs.

Neal restrains throughout, even on the aggressive moments of "Evil's Rising" and poppy stutter of "Difference," but closing triptych "Mountain Town," "Million Dollars," and "Sante Fe" lulls with folksy ballads and harmonies that drop any earned momentum.

While closer "My Dream Is Yours" picks up the pace, the album pulses inward and outward, meditative, trapped in one place.

Music is meditation for Brian Eno, so it's fitting that portions of Small Craft on a Milk Sea – a collaboration with guitarist Leo Abrahams and pianist Jon Hopkins – sound like they're circulating air at a day spa.

Does anything come close to the prize-winning likes of "1901" or "Lisztomania"? No, and that can't help but feel a little disappointing.

Bundick doesn't have a great voice. A one-man vehicle such as Toro y Moi won't fix that issue any time soon, so it might be time for some extra help.

Ferry sounds like he's singing on a cruise ship.

Howl weaves a compelling narrative, but it'd be more interesting if Brooks embodied the title and channeled his inner Screamin' Jay Hawkins.

Davies' trademark softer delivery saves 'Imaginary Man,' but convincing vocalizations remain a major problem at the Café. Two steps forward, one step back.

It's an unfortunate reminder that even on an album populated by seedy characters and hard roads, Bingham still struggles with the devil in the details.

Why not take the five really good tracks on Break Up the Concrete ("Boots of Chinese Plastic," "Love's a Mystery," "Rosalee," "One Thing Never Changed," "Don't Cut Your Hair") and offer a stellar EP for download?

A mixed bag for the devoted.

Despite its meticulous craftsmanship and ornamentation, Tim Smith's stoic delivery throughout – detached and downtrodden – ultimately turns The Courage of Others into a sepia-toned slumber.

You can imagine a modern-day Syd Barrett coming up with similar ideas after being locked in a closet with a laptop.

Say Yes to Love gets bogged down in some questionably drawn-out experimentation toward the end, but that can't undo the face-peeling impact of its first 15 minutes.

Founder Carlos Hernandez has a tendency to mask his arrangements in more noise than they need, dynamics buried in the resulting fracas.

For all the loud-fast ethos, the album feels like it's balancing on one leg.