Generals has some gems of its own, but take a bit more digging to find.

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.

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

It’s an impressive show of strength and act of endurance not just in its multi-part structure but also in Gelb’s long term commitment to his craft and his determination to make something endearing out of the downcast canvas that he’s made his own.

An album full of fresh twists and turns, musically and lyrically, and a song cycle full of melody and surprise.

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).

This is a wonderful, subtle album, whose songs seem simple at first, but open up and grow more interesting on repeated listens.

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

Nicely balancing quirk and craft, Make It Be works so well one hopes this isn’t the only time this pair swings together.

LaVette is in incredibly fine form, squeezing every amount of emotional resonance out of every track, her voice a well burnished, emotionally charged instrument that she plays like a master.

Snider proves yet again that he is still one of the best musical commentators going today.

Shimmering and ethereal, A Church That Fits Our Needs finds the band as ambitious as ever.

This set has definitely been lovingly culled together for fans seeking out a very specific side of Wobble.

The disc's winning blend of warm organic tones and smart atmospheric touches, recalls Emmylou Harris' Wrecking Ball--and could also be the breakthrough for Merritt that Ball was for Harris.

Being a summer release, the sun really shines down on tunes like “Good Times,” with it’s go-go beat, “She Makes Me Laugh,” “Our Own World,” “Gotta Give It Time,’ and come on get happy with “You Bring the Summer.”

Despite the unlikely set-up, there’s a classic archetypical feel to the set as a whole.

Patterns of Light is a unique collaboration that gives what seems like conventional psych/prog rock a depth no classic band would have ever imagined. You may think you’ve heard something like this before, but trust us--you really haven’t.

While some songs are utterly slow paced, they are obscured by the strength of the aforementioned tracks as well as “The Fall” and “Last Dance.”

Sermon on the Rocks should speak to anyone with an ear for melody and an appreciation for a commanding, compelling delivery. Whether or not this broadens Ritter’s reach remains to be seen, but even if it falls short, be assured that it’s still excellent regardless.

Look Closer sits in a similar wheelhouse as most Daptone projects, working a familiar vein of late ’60s/early ’70s soul.

Forever Sounds (Shake It/Damnably) is a kaleidoscopic, sonic soundscape, engagingly recorded at John Curley’s (Afghan Whigs) facility, Ultrasuede Studios.

Taken as a whole, Sukierae is a much different experience, exhibiting a labor of love in the truest sense--a family affair that bridges the generational gap to offer a little something for everyone.

It captures the band's rambunctious, not-especially-reverent approach to Ethio-jazz.

The operatics of her voice make it the most intriguing instrument on the album but the new exploration of violins and cellos that feminize the massive drum fills make Conatus even more astounding.

He delivers a stirring counterpoint to Quartet with an atmospheric combination of organic and digital feels that offers a stirring dual portrait of the landscape of his motherland.

The album is gorgeous, almost an abstraction of what musical loveliness could be.

This is one of the most beautiful albums you’ll hear this year or any other, speaking softly but resonating deeply and long after the last sounds fade away.

There’s little doubt Here Be Monsters will one day be considered the album that ensures Langford’s legacy.

The final outcome is the most intriguing and innovative Matmos LP since A Chance to Cut is a Chance to Cure.

Jordanian remains pleasantly understated as a frontman, letting his voice and knack for raw melodies take the focus.

The real problem is that there’s little, if anything, to distinguish any particular track from the one that precedes it, omitting anything of hummable worth for vague, languid repose.

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

Instead of dramatic tempo shifts or sing-along choruses, the songs rely on subtle texture and tempo changes that, in context, wind up carrying far more weight than they would in another setting.

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.

It may seem a somewhat unassuming entry, but regardless, We Love Our Country creates a favorable first impression.

Simply said, this Little Bird soars.

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.

This is the ordinary world made radiant, surreal and strange, its everyday objects glowing with internal light.

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.

The World’s Best American Band is all about cutting loose and having a blast via the method of catchy guitar-based rock & roll tunes--simple, direct and oh so very effective.

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

Jamal continues to spin gold from the bench of his baby grand with Blue Moon.

With Pan the band has created an album that places them squarely amongst the pantheon of musicians they so obviously adore.

O' Be Joyful would be their resulting--and across-the-board winning--entrée to celebrity chefdom.

As with so much African music, Né So favors hope over despair, proud defiance over inchoate anger, and stands as the most trenchant portrait of the African musical spirit so far this year.

How good is Antibalas the album, the band's fourth, on its own merits? The answer is: pretty good, but not as great as its inspiration.

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

While Neko Case’s moonlighting from her solo day job allows her to enliven the proceedings, it’s obvious that the ensemble, as a whole, contributes to the richness and resonance that the new album exudes in its entirety.

Though the band seems to have packed all of its musical interests and abilities into the album’s 11 songs, this is a most likely only a sampling of their capabilities and of the colorful ideas yet to spring from the mind of Jocie Adams.

Away has some fine moments, but is an LP completists will get the most mileage out of, perhaps as that curio figure in an artist’s evolution to somewhere else.

Giving seems to go on and on towards some distant, perhaps unreachable horizon.

The most noticeable thing about the new Xiu Xiu album is ... how disarmingly vibrant it sounds.

The time apart from one another has given the band a more expansive sound and Dirty Three have pushed themselves to create one of the most dynamic releases in the catalog.

The heart- wrenching emotion is credible and convincing, even though the uneasy undercurrents find Green's brand of the blues seem somewhat tenuous at times. Nevertheless, at this point in the trajectory, City & Colour manages to provide a pleasing musical melange.

A two-disc set documenting archival demos and an early live recording, The Singing Postman Delivers demonstrates that for the most part, John Prine's musical persona emerged fully formed.

The disc’s first half is most engrossing, especially the slinky, smouldery swagger of “Lady and Man,” which whips up funk intensity with explosive starts and stops. ... Late album tracks drift and drone, pillow-padded with angelic “oohs” and paced for motionless contemplation.

Chills on Glass may be rock viewed sideways, through a cracked mirror, after 48 hours without sleep, but it is till the recognizable thing. As such, it fits uncomfortably into the places you’ve made for rock, jarring you even as it feeds you.

If anything, Atlas sounds like a fully formed album from another era, complete with woozy harmonies, an assured shimmer and a constant jangle.

Sunbathing Animal offers up lucky-13 tracks and nary a stale song.

May seems destined for stardom, and given these compelling performances, she'll likely attain that stature soon.

Where The Action Is may not be the absolute rave-up the album title implies, but it is a remarkably incisive effort that ought to remind one and all what a singularly important ensemble the Waterboys were… and still remain.

With that, this Wrecking Ball is more about a carnival of living souls moving in solidarity than a giant iron orb meant to destroy.

Repetition and simplicity balance the sadly beautiful sounds on Wabi-Sabi; an eccentric album that will find its home with those who seek something creatively different in their music on a mellow, rainy day.

It all combines to create an album of magical (realist) splendor, a journey into a past which will always have more to offer each time you listen to it.

On Sun, Chan Marshall is so sure of herself that she's prepared to confront not just romance's injustice, but also the world's.

If, after four decades, Terms of My Surrender appears to take a change of tune, in Hiatt’s hands it’s a winning formula regardless.

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

Bid and his crew are real pros, totally confident.

Urick is a remarkable electronic musician who pushes mainstream music to its outer limits, and as the listener explores those outer limits, expect goose bumps to appear on the skin.

You almost can’t grudge Bishop for his globe-hopping, 9-5 shirking, guitar-buying existence when it produces music as wonderful as this.

Some of their ‘80s-style material also works in a pretty way (“Re-invent Your Second Wheel,” “BW Silence,” “Time Lock Fog”), but not so that you’re convinced that their collective hearts are in it.

Year of No Returning may not be the definitive post-Harpoons Furman record – he’s got another one coming this fall--but it is an album to build on.

The best of these songs, by a long ways, is "Counting." [...] Yet elsewhere, Ashin sounds like he's treading water, emoting floridly but to no real purpose over shiny, surface-y arrangements.

The result is a deeply humane album, it makes poetry out of the disappointments of daily existence and narrative out of the mistakes that people make.

That McCombs is seeking a specialized niche seems all too obvious, even though his sound flirts with being elusive.

The Universe and Me offers more evidence that, as time goes by, Guided By Voices’ other songwriter may be aging more gracefully.

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

[A] gorgeous outing from one of rock's best pop-smiths.

There's a tip towards tradition that boasts more than a hint of reverence as well

Those two indelible songs ["Small Bright Doses" and "Rogue Highway"] alone more than warrant the price of admission, but while the rest of the album is far more ambiguous, its dream-like melodies and beguiling intrigue provide plenty of reason to succumb to its spell.

Another cohesive set that plums the same territory songwriters have spent centuries on, - that Mandell can still rivet our attention is testament to a great songstress.

The songwriting doesn’t quite match the ambitions here, and that gives the LP a transitory feel--that, too, may be fitting, given Huebert’s long season.

With electronic pop maverick Lawrence English producing, they have, if not exactly tamed their sound, at least neatened it up.

Contrary to its title, Do Not Disturb might prove disturbing to those whose tastes don’t necessarily allow for introspection of intrigue, but for those that miss the adventure and ambition British prog rock once had to offer, it’s well worth the risk.

A Big Bad Beautiful Noise rocks hard, lives smart and re-establishes the Godfathers as a vital force in rock & roll.

The results come off like the soundtrack to an imaginary video game, one where environmental exploration is more important than staying on task.

A free-form lyrical approach leads Vangaalen into phantasmically beautiful byways, with both the music and the words floating up and away.

With a solid collection of songs and some enormously creative and varied approaches to playing them, Stranger Me is the best work yet of an artist likely to continue growing further.

The Rip Tide is moderate in ambition, and hardly a masterwork, if such things empirically exist.

Probably not the best soundtrack for you Christmas Eve Open House, but destined to be a Holiday classic for Crowell diehards.

On the album’s second half, Foster and her producer/bassist Meshell Ndegeocello steer more towards a softer sound (“Learning To Fly,” “New”) that glosses over some of Foster’s grit. Still highlights are easy to find.

Kids in The Streets is just as charming and powerful as its predecessors.

Sadly the momentum's not maintained once DeCicca and company quickly slip back into their plaintive posturing.

It’s lyrically strong and musically tight--even as it drifts and frolics as easily as kite.

Modestly presented but appropriately self-confident in its dedication to craft, Hendra is a low-key but sturdy delight.

One imagines certain purist fans recoiling and dropping out while a host of newcomers discover ‘em.

Overall, the EP--which would earn a higher grade if there were simply more of it--captures a contemplative Wareham midway between Luna’s driving pulse and the darker fare on Dean & Britta’s 13 Most Beautiful: Songs for Andy Warhol’s Screen Tests.

Not one single note on this record fails to contribute something to the overall mood.