Its fourth studio album keeps the glitter ball spinning.

Over seven increasingly ambitious albums, they refined the approach, and Turn Blue contains their most atmospheric and somber music yet.

An album that turns its predecessor’s intimacy into something far more ambitious.

The plot, such as it is, gets a bit murky, but it’s not a requirement for enjoying the audacious music.

Lovely strings, flute and backing vocals occasionally shed some light, but mostly this is Cave playing it slow, hushed and haunted.

Though the potential for melodrama is strong, Gibbard and his bandmates play with restraint.

Rather than singing from inside the darkness, he steps back and tries to find glimmers of hope and, dare it be said, happiness. The dozen songs offer a more forgiving perspective on time, memory and the past and how to live with and move beyond it.

Little wonder that their "Broken Bells" (Columbia) project, on which they play all the instruments, packs 11 meticulously orchestrated songs into less than 38 minutes. Burton puts a little wobble on just about every sound he conjures and Mercer pushes his voice outside its comfort zone, particularly in the upper register, making this a chilled little side-trip of an album.

Unencumbered by the commercial and ego demands in Mac, Buckingham affirms his talent for turning eccentricity into twisted pop songs.

In contrast to the North Carolina songwriter’s rushed but rousing 2015 debut album, “Sidelong” (reissued last year by Chicago-based Bloodshot), Years is a more measured but no less bracing listen. Shook’s backing band, the Disarmers, holds a steady flame without letting things get out of hand.

The collision of the abstract and the beautiful on Toward the Low Sun affirms the Dirty Three's enduring vitality.

It's best to focus on the sheer sonic splendor of Adele's voice set against some dramatic arrangements, especially the rumbling regret of Rolling in the Deep and the piano-based melancholy of Turning Tables.

"Southern Rock Opera" is the kind of record most bands don't have in them.

The guy who wrote "Angie," "Wild Horses," and "Ruby Tuesday" sprinkles the album with ballads, though the only one that has a pulse is Gregory Isaacs' reggae lament "Love Overdue." The other slow ones wobble.

The Fall is ultimately a mildly more adventurous art-pop take on her piano-based cabaret style.

Artistic ambition is a wonderful attribute, but so is the ability to self-edit, and it’s in short supply. There’s a snappy single album of sharp pop music tucked inside the two 20/20 Experience bookends, but it’ll take listeners some work to find it.

For the most part it works, though McCartney never quite digs as deep as he did on the sturdy "Memory Almost Full" (2007), his last studio album of completely original material (or his adventurous 2008 side project as the Fireman, "Electric Arguments").

Yes, TV on the Radio is trying to write pop tunes. Some of them aren't bad, and some are so single-minded that it becomes wearying.

The potential sparks that one expects from such a pairing take a while to ignite.

At its best, "Wild Heart of Life" approaches that recording's [2012's "Celebration Rock"] peak moments, but it too often undercuts them by trying to pull the duo out of its minimalist arena-punk corner.

When Zonoscope sticks to concise songcraft, it's a satisfying, if sometimes trifling, pleasure.

Though Morello's blunt originals don't leave much room for poetry or subtlety, hearing him perform "Union Song" at the Madison rally invokes a certain rabble-rousing spirit that Billy Bragg surely would recognize.

Talk about a mixed message. Even Rihanna sounds confused.

Nothing is Quick in the Desert--its 14th studio recording--flexes the group's stadium-rap muscle. This was an album specifically designed to be played live, and some of the subtlety and nuance that informs Chuck D's most incisive raps is missing.

The guitarist's musical openness is admirable. But Blak and Blu sounds like he's just trying on different styles

The Hold Steady is all about bombast and getting bombed. Clear Heart Full Eyes is about the morning after, and everything's a blur.

“Sugar” carved out a path to the dancefloor, but it also made Khan sound like a heavily filtered singer-for-hire as she belted out the hook. The song anchors “Hello Happiness,” and the remaining six tracks are essentially more of the same, with Khan’s voice rarely in the forefront. Her vocals become just another texture in stretches of the title track. ... “Too Hot” provides the sole exception. ... It’s terrific.

Most of the rest holds up as credible but hardly ground-breaking pop-rock, an album that proves Garbage still exists even if it hasn't necessarily come up with any new tricks.