The results are extremely life-affirming.

Less visceral than Beach House and more rhythmic than Trespassers William, GEMS creates its own distinct shade of contemporary dream-pop. Usher’s angular guitar work and layers of synths provide a luxuriously designed sonic backdrop for Pitts’s doomed romanticism.

"23" furthers the group's recent fascination with a sleeker presentation that favors sheen over squall.

With each new release, its sound becomes more polished, and Last Light finds a groove between a radio-ready opus and an experimental jumble.

The band is clearly comfortable with the medium that it occupies between aggressive and technical post-hardcore yet is beginning to tread new territory.

After four self-produced albums, the Ohio-based duo enlists Gnarls Barkley's Danger Mouse to infuse their guitar-and-drums minimalism with a fuller roots-rock feel, and the results are fresh, intriguing, and often inspiring.

Anyone who rues the scarcity of smart, serious pop music for grown-ups should snap up the entire Sam Phillips catalog. On second thought, skip "Omnipop." But don't miss Phillips's splendid new effort, Don't Do Anything, a collection that dances in her signature mystery space between darkness and light with strange grace, emotional candor, and winsome hooks.

Listen a little closer to the sly, snarky lyrics and glam grooves on this feisty debut and you'll hear that this former downtown New York spice girl has at least a few things on her dirty mind.

The sultry singer [Bobbie Gentry], who had a hit with "Ode to Billie Joe," is part of this essential new Light in the Attic compilation that explores a fringe strain of country music.

This is the album for people who used to be Franz Ferdinand fans but strayed. It gives them a reason to come back.

It's nothing more--or less--than the latest chapter in his extraordinary, funhouse-mirror version of honky-tonk traditionalism.

Don’t Stop is an electro-pop truffle--a tasty confection with a hard, glossy shell surrounding a smooth, melt-in-your-ear interior of cheeky, playful lyrics.

Nearly half these songs are the original demos, which explains some of the austerity that makes it such a compelling listen from a band that's still at the mercy of its muse.

When Joyce Manor cracks open its sound the results are satisfying despite (or maybe because of?) being delivered in bite-size form.

It’s the work of a talented rapper who takes palpable pleasure in the possibilities of language.

New Found Glory is at its best when sounding highly caffeinated, even if breakneck tempos belie a song's blue mood.

Held is a haunted forest worth getting lost in, but don't expect to be on your own for long.

Arriving toward the end of summer, Another Self Portrait feels perfectly suited for the type of reflection that accompanies autumn.

Its songs are more impressionistic, brash in their knotty arrangements and assured in their execution.

After his 2005 debut, DeVaughn ups the ante with a sprawling effort that works as a showcase for his lush vocals.

Yoav proves that a guitar and his voice are the only instruments you really need to make powerful, versatile music.

It is a surprise and a thrill to hear that even as the band enters its "artsy" phase--expanding its instrumental palette to include mewling saws and clattering percussion--the songs remain uniformly excellent from stem to stern.

Most of Little Hells is musically quite simple, giving the sense that whatever Nadler has to say rests entirely in her sound, not in the songs themselves

Congratulations, MGMT's time-warped sophomore release, is a strange beast, a candy-colored acid trip set to music, and easily the most hallucinatory rock record of the year so far.

Shelton continues to shine as a singer, especially on the heartfelt "I'm Sorry'' and the title track, a tender duet with wife Miranda Lambert.

Williams adapted the song from a poem by her father, Miller Williams, and it gives Down Where the Spirit Meets the Bone its emotional compass if not its melodic direction. The rest of this double album, Williams’s first, settles into a deep groove that suggests the singer-songwriter was fired up and couldn’t--and shouldn’t--whittle her latest to a standard 10 songs.

The music can be enjoyed apart from the story, but either way, this is a must-have for true Cooder fans.

In addition to producing the set with an ear for warmth, Grohl plays drums on “Let It Rain” which definitely gives the band some extra snap. And the group’s signature harmonies are lush throughout. Given the title, we look forward to a possible “Vol. 2.”