Good Mood Fool takes several listens before it’s possible to fully appreciate its full potential.

Majestically sad (“Almost Home,” “Saints”), soulfully sad (“A Case For Shame”), atmospherically sad (“Going Wrong”), trip hop sad (“The Last Day,” “Tell Me”), Northern soul sad (“Don’t Love Me”) are all interesting but often too subtle variations that almost make you want to force feed him Zoloft at times.

Deer Tick’s fifth and latest offering is a tad darker and surprisingly personal compared to earlier efforts. The result is ultimately a stronger album, but it takes a little time to get to the good stuff.

With twenty tracks and plenty of impromptu circumstance, it may not offer the same potential for pure appreciation that a standard anthology of studio tracks might provide. Nevertheless, there’s an adventurous spirit contained herein, and The Chills show they’re adept at heating things up as necessary.

The Canadian chanteuse offers up a series of deceptively delicate entreaties that quickly give way to the sort of emphatic rhythms and boisterous melodies that reflect an unmistakably bold confidence.

No Age has made an album devoid of joy, yet I couldn’t help but smile when listening to it.

It would seem as if she’s making music from a disengaged point of view.

Intended as the follow-up to Griffin’s sophomore set Flaming Red, Silver Bell finds a young artist still determining her direction. Griffin’s furtive vocals dominate the album overall, but the settings shift dramatically throughout.

Despite those candid confessions, Arrows never bows to Scattergood’s self-indulgence, given the swooning synths and other cosmic confections.

This is the kind of show that often carries a “had to be there” air, especially given the heavy participation of the crowd and the freewheeling nature of the performance. But Chilton’s charm and talent make Electricity By Candlelight wear surprisingly well.

So while songs such as “Beautiful Dream,” “Run” and “Gloria” may be anchored with a touch of techno, there’s also plenty of sparkle and substance to keep most folks satisfied.

You can’t help but feel a little let down that they didn’t experiment a bit more on this one.

To be sure, Blitzen Trapper can be commended for breaking down the boundaries between roots and rhythm, even though they may alienate those more accustomed to the tried and true.

On Oni Pond, their fifth, is quite possibly the closest they will ever come to being considered de-cluttered.

It’s merely average, one likely to fade into memory once the buzz dies down and the fire goes out.

Yes, this type of record has been done before, and arguably better, but there are still some powerful tracks on The Things.

Allegedly a bubblegum record, in reality this is Collins’ take on psychedelic pop, with twinkling keyboards, polite guitars and a heretofore unimagined Collins croon that could charm the panties off a lesbian punk rocker.

It’s that free-flowing vibe that helps make this seem more like an overdue reunion for the home town crowd as much as any attempt at a polished performance.

While that sad waste of talent and potential deals the album a serious blow, the rest of the set proves mostly satisfying, even when the song selection remains relatively unknown.

Their latest, crammed with 17 tracks, will likely be a case of too much of a good thing for all but the hardcore fans.

Elvis at Stax, discreetly packaged, replete with complete credits for musicians, singers, and studio personnel, and excellent (if fawning) Robert Gordon liner notes, is a nice corrective.

With Sleeper Segall sounds almost, well, mature, and emotionally invested.

Good as this is, it could be that much better.

Derivative? Sure. But also blissfully compelling and entertaining.

The ferocity in their delivery and the sheer sweep of their eager entreaties create an anthemic exposition, resulting in a series of songs that make it impossible to sit still.

It’s unlikely that Carrier will be the offering that brings that promise home. Yet it is a superb showcase for the pair’s ample prowess.

The impotence of railing against it is a theme running through a lot of the record, and in the case of Nightingale Floors, coming to terms with the past has freed Rogue Wave to turn in what might be their finest work.

Opening the door of your mind’s eye to the psychedelic sludge and acid punk hooks of Slave Vows will gain you a lot of decadent pleasure, little insight and even less mercy.