Their latest, Signed and Sealed in Blood, will likely not change many opinions as it is still their same hallmark of rowdy, drink in the air, boot stomping sing-alongs.

They represent such a cool transitional period in Davis's career, as radical a creative juxtaposition to the jazz community as Bob Dylan blowing the minds of the folkies with the crackle of a guitar amplifier.

Like finding a paisley underground in a rain forest, listening to Noctuary will alter your perceptions and give you a chocolate brain melt in a most satisfying way.

Fourth Corner is one of those rare releases that leaves its listeners wanting more.

Badwater is more accomplished but also less astonishing, a victory of craft over pure sensation.

Ultimately, Coming Out of the Fog is about song, rather than sound, but that sharply-crafted sound definitely its say as well.

Lovesick Blues is simply a beauty.

Buddy Miller's production is fresh, tuned to the immediacy of Thompson's performances; any fault with Electric can't be laid at his door--only at the strangely stiff quality of the first few songs.

The tenth Eels studio LP simply presents E's strengths as a songwriter and performer.

For their third album together, John Elliott, Steve Hauschlidt and Mark McGuire bring the same sense of fearless adventure to them modular synths, creating a seven-song cycle unlike anything in the Emeralds canon yet.

It's the sound of three guys blasting their way out of suburban torpor.

There are certainly times when a bit more instrumentation (a cello, some percolating percussion, a lyrical guitar solo) would have enhanced the presentation.

Ultimately, The House at Sea provides an ideal aural retreat, a tranquil locale where calm waters create minimal waves.

Something this eerie has rarely sounded so enticing.

His latest is a bit of a challenge, but worth it for those willing to put in the time.

Looks can be deceiving, especially when you have an album's worth of decent songs to back you up. And despite a so-so start on their debut full length, they do.

Yin & Yang is an earth shattering 45 minutes of street urchin dub punk that not only reveals This Is PiL for the anti-climactic milquetoast sham that it was, but re-establishes the true soul of Public Image as it was originally intended by the vast sum of its initial parts.

The album opens, confusingly, with an electro-funk groove that becomes a trippy, multi-vocal chorale. Most of what follows is sprightly power-pop with psychedelic touches, dreamy asides and occasional dance-club thumps.

Scholarly stuff this, but also an intriguing reinvention that makes this an ideal marriage of folk and finesse.

Give Me All You Got is as seductive and enticing as its name implies because clearly, Rodriguez is giving all she has as well.

Mountains composes the soundtrack to dreams you didn't know you had.

His music has gotten more complex, more tuneful and more energetic. In Focus? is Tokumaru's most uptempo album, although that doesn't mean it's his most rocking.

With consistently strong songwriting and an intrepid grasp on its own talent, the Joy Formidable has in Wolf's Law a near-perfect follow-up record: it moves the band forward while staying true to what made it appealing and exciting in the first place.

There are new elements here, but they've been brought into a foundation so strong they cannot help but fit in on only on Yo La Tengo's terms.

Fortunately, the band that helped establish the early indie ethos remains as odd and unrepentant as ever.

As Toro Y Moi is mirroring sounds from genres past, Anything in Return sounds all too familiar.

The new album's a stunning return to, and expansion from, seminal Ubu form.

What James Brooks has accomplished as Land Observations should easily make Roman Roads IV - XI a record anyone in tune with the works of such new school guitar giants as Christian Fennesz and Dustin Wong must hear now.

Buddy & Jim in tandem is twice as nice and two of a kind.

Like other such endeavors-acoustic re-imaginings, that is-the results aren't that poor. They're just boring.

The Odds show that Fugazi doesn't need to reunite in order to make music that still very much matters.

This isn't the sound of a once-renowned band trying to cash in on their glory days; it's the sound of a band invigorated.

With its relaxing, wordless waves of pastoral hums and harmonies, LUX rightfully earns its place amongst such classic works by one of the great masters of sonic exploration.

Heavy Mood has some good songs on it, but if you'd ask me which way to point I'd still say Bottoms of Barrels (the band's 3rd record).

For those who have been along for the ride since the beginning this anthology is like unlocking a shiny, new bonus track for each of Gibbard's efforts since Something About Airplanes.

Weird, raw and beautiful all at once.

In the last ten or fifteen years, only 2005's Magic Time has delivered more consistently enjoyable songs than this thoroughly captivating collection of rants, loves, and dreams.

Cut the World isn't a major new statement from Antony Hegarty, since only one of its 11 songs are new and he's no stranger to using string arrangements. But the material is mostly the cream of his four studio albums.

Fennesz also instills a similar dichotomy with his score, as beautifully melancholic passages on grand piano and guitar interweave and flutter through the ether of his static-encrusted digital ambiance over 15 compositions of unsettling serenity.

If you like the Scottish band, you should probably pick up No One Can Ever Know. If you're interested in the remixers, they have their own material to explore. There's nothing here that either camp can't live without.

This is a collection of songs that sparkles in its own excellence.

Sure this House on the Hill could be more soundly constructed, but one suspects that ricketiness is part of the appeal.

It's only a matter of time before the rest of the world catches up and realizes she's one of our country's best songwriters.

Each song can stand strongly on its own or the entire record can work as a cohesive whole (most records are one or the other).

With Eno at the controls, the Turbo Fruits straighten up, fly right and in the process bash out their most enjoyable work to date.

The sound is not quite as clean as on Beyond the 4th Door, but there's an organic whole-ness and immediacy that makes up for murkier sonics.

File Provider with the best of Damien Jurado and Mark Kozelek, fellow travelers in the world of darkly compelling, unassumingly poetic acoustic ballads that are quiet but never soft.

It is great to hear them testing out other feels without losing an ounce of the consistency that has made them to toast of Chicago for all these years.

She shows herself self-conscious in a good way on songs like "Little But Loud" where she happily shows off her stuff off while name checking Led Zep's most famous tune.

The fifteen tracks that make up the record are soul shaking, dark, emotive and moving in a way that would have Nick Drake, Leonard Cohen and Tom Waits sipping their whiskeys in agreement.

Anchored by the fantastic production of longtime Interpol collaborator Peter Katis, the incorporation of drum loops, sampled dialogue a la Primal Scream's "Loaded" and textural Books-esque embellishments on songs like "Arise Awake" and "Another Chance" offers the sense of sonic adventure Interpol never entertained.

As an official live document of what this guy and his compatriots are all about, I'd rank Live From Alabama among the great concert albums.

While none of the songs are deeply political or poetic like the wartime bands that predated Tame Impala, they are no less poignant and often delve into a reflective sadness of longing to belong.

These songs show a band in its prime-and cast a much wider net of influences, finally shaking that garage band label, bringing in folk, country and some damn fine bar room rock.

It's the sound of songwriter matched to band that makes this record so deliriously good.

The fuzz of "Fighting the Smoke" and blend of twang and sincerity on "Red Rubber Army" prove that he's not going to run out of great ideas any time soon.

The constant shifts in tone and temperament ultimately affirm Orton's unpredictable instincts, and give Sugaring Season a sweeter appeal.

Sometimes Django Django's ingredients cohere into an actual song, but a lot of the Scottish quartet's self-titled debut album is frustratingly sketchy.

A band that started with Can's hypnotic propulsion has ended up floating in Tangerine Dream's weightless free formity, but it's gorgeous stuff.

Recorded in the far reaches of the Australian Outback, it reflects those dusty environs in its stripped-down arrangements and traditional tomes.

With Reckon, Collett offers an unblemished view of all its troubles and travails. To his credit, this tireless troubadour puts it all in perspective.

Maandig remains the primary vocalist; yet she is MIA on many of the vast orchestrations that feel like Tattoo leftovers.

Danzig in the Moonlight represents a bold step forward.

All nine of these slow-moving cuts are built on actual melodies, simple enough to stick right away, radiant enough to hang like this album's overtones, well after they are finished.

All ten tracks evoke surreal circumstance, given a delivery that's atmospheric, amorphous and hypnotic.

This latest effort is underscored by sweeping arrangements and a turbulent pulse that only serves to accelerate that sense of drama and defiance.

Sometimes controlled, occasionally chaotic, this new album packs a powerful impact.

Free Reign, co-produced by Oneohtrix Point Never's Daniel Lopatin, is subtler, jazzier and ever-so-slightly sexier than previous Clinic outings.

Spectral effects and pulsating tones swirl through each selection, but it's the persistent rhythms that steer the aural acrobatics, making Den a harbinger of fascinating efforts yet to come.

Local Business represents a new chapter in the band's saga, but it's one you're better off skimming.

The fact this lost treasure is once again widely available in any capacity is reason to celebrate.

Despite how often he churns out work, this is steadfast and cohesive.

Unfinished Business doesn't breach new terrain, but then again, there's really no need.

A sense of quiet triumph pervades: this may be the prettiest Mountain Goats album yet.

Friedberger sits at his keyboard noodling around on little motifs with slight variation here and there, which do evoke cinematic cues. But without the images on the silver screen, it becomes the music of buttons being pushed which gets old quickly.

Thomas Brenneck has crafted ten seamlessly funky and beautifully played and arranged instrumental tracks in search of a film.

It's a monster, coursing with primal ferocity and sending wave upon wave of le noise directly at your gut.

Jason Lytle's solo excursions express a bewildering mix of emotions. Dept. of Disappearance, his sophomore set, muddies the waters as much as before.

Recorded live on the floor with his band, ChesnuTT's second album cuts the fat away for a lean, no-bullshit sweet soul program that hearkens back to the heyday of the O'Jays and Al Green.

On the group's third full-length Love Will Prevail, Ragon earns his rightful place alongside the works of the underground icons he flips for profit.

Strapped is a marked maturation from their San Diego start five years ago.

Long Slow Dance is a schizophrenic album, at times frustratingly so.

This is a calm, passionate album miles away from the dirge of YOB, echoing the lucidity of his homeland's creeks and forests, bringing together elements of Eastern and Western folk like David Crosby trading in Topanga Canyon for the Dead Sea.

Of the 13 songs here, roughly half are by male vocalists who, because of the twang in their voices or their choice of instrumentation, have a predictable, even generic, alt-country sound.

Clark's talent is undeniable, but only when he's not flogging it half to death.

Every cut shines with Ndgeocello's brilliantly creative spirit.

To be sure, low fidelity contemplation has generally been Johnson's stock in trade, but even so, there's no denying that Scorpion simply lacks sting.

Breakup Song is an electric, ultra-fun, frenetic carnival; but, it is most satisfying in its quieter, more spacious moments.

It's nearly impossible for Hiatt to put out a bad record. You may not love every song, but there's bound to be a few on there to make the album well worth the price you paid.

The music is consistently impressive. A calmer, mellower than its predecessor, affair, Diluvia is an enchanting album worth several listens.

Sonically, the band tends to be all over the map on this one.

They eventually return to their swampy shuffles and bottleneck guitars but not before establishing themselves as revisionists and revivalists equally content to also mine their own muse.

Eitzel's work is rarely weak, but Don't Be a Stranger finds him hitting another peak.

Sweeping and stirring in its emotional depth, Sing the Delta happily finds DeMent testifying to her beliefs with feeling.

At 21 minutes, these six songs come off like a moderately successful experiment, but an entire album might have been too much of a challenge to sustain.

False Flag was a raging, hairy monster of an album; Formerly Extinct is its subtler, more intricate, better groomed (but no less wild) cousin.

Even if it's in small phases, Moon Duo continue to evolve as they revolve.

This is not a return to form, or a wild new approach, just another Steve Forbert album, which means a very good thing to have in the world.