If country and folk were to marry grunge and alternative rock, this album would be their best-looking child.

While the album brims with such expansive themes and stunning musicianship, it too often falls into low-slung ambience rather than explore the evocative power it demonstrates all too infrequently.

You won't find a "Don't You Want Me" on this disc, but you will find a band that's aged a lot better than many of their contemporaries, as well as a few tracks that will stand up well alongside those of their modern-day followers.

While the album isn't full of the kind of revelations that drop jaws and illicit gasps, the emotion here is a much-needed place of solace and solidity in a mythos larger and more involved than Heaven's Fence itself.

On Prophet, Knopf plays it by the book. In this sense, the most surprising thing about the album is how unsurprising it is. Knopf gets by, though, thanks to his raw skills as a crafter of songs, which are abundantly clear throughout.

It's another sound defense of the gradually fading chillwave movement, but as far as offering anything new to it, Mansions mostly treads the beaten path.

The familiarity between Maricich and Dyne has resulted in the most earnest storytelling for The Blow yet, but without Bechtolt, the songs have lost much of the textured depth behind Maricich’s easygoing delivery.

Long Enough To Leave might not blaze much of a unique trail, wearing its love of the past proudly on its sleeve. That said, it still delivers its share of gems culled from other well-traveled musical paths.

Doing away with the big guitars and lean hooks that the label has championed so adamantly over the years, Deathfix settles warmly into a pleasant, melodic ’70s pop groove, one colored with plentiful flourishes and textured arrangements.

On Hope in Dirt City, he has worked out a record full of uniquely blended beats and bleakly grinning intelligence.

This soundtrack may be Hollywood-ized, but it’s also spirited in its reflection of America’s past 50 years.

The album bears Rogue's signature yet versatile voice and simplistic guitar-driven arrangements that recall his eponymous band's first album with the occasional grand gestures of Rogue Wave's later work.

Those hungry for the more immediate release of her techno might find parts of the album tedious, but LISm‘s long-form arc rewards a patient listener.

One of the problems Body Music faces is that it’s an album supporting a string of pre-processed singles.

At its best, Vessel's debut LP for Tri-Angle, Order of Noise makes you cock your head and wonder why you'd never heard that particular high-end squonk used in the place where a low-end splomp would usually go, the cards moving too fast to pick out the placement. At worst, Gainsborough's reliance on the value of shifting cards seems to trump what the cards actually are, and the fact that those three cards aren't ever leaving your sight.

Unfortunately (and as is the case with their past three albums), the band’s bash-it-out approach loses some steam by the end of the record. But if you’re down for unrelenting rock ‘n roll fraught with the bitterness of adulthood, The Bronx is your band.

In the end, Welcome oblivion is really just three stitched-together pieces used to create a living, breathing, albeit disjointed creature.

Underwater Sunshine (a play on The Soft Boys' classic Underwater Moonlight, another Duritz favorite) mixes live staples, pop classics, and more recent material from the Crows, offering the latest enjoyable, if inconsistent, glimpse into Duritz's record collection.

The flow of tracks leads, however, one by one to the end of the album, all without delivering a truly outstanding, cathartic moment, leaving behind a half-sated feeling.

There aren't as many powerful moments as on, say, a Ducktails record, but fans of that sound will find more to love here.

Honky Tonk finds Farrar once again bearing the brunt of Son Volt’s musical and emotional baggage, and that’s nothing new.

The trouble with Little Boots’ choice in house music is that there’s little room for experimentation. At times, lyrics rhyme just to be adhesive and the beats drone on and on and on.

These songs are gracefully played and pleasant, but- like water- they can grow drab and unsatisfying when consumed en masse.

Banjo, pedal steel, and fiddle show up on cue here and there with lovely results, but never to the point of distracting from the album's foundation of Irwin and her acoustic guitar just singing away their woes to each other.

Songs does not kill Rusko's brostep monster. It just drastically smooths out the edges and makes it a bit more ready for popular consumption.

Songs like "In Dreams" begin promisingly but grow stale, while others lack standout qualities.

Nocturne embodies one artist's sense of what pop used to be, so maybe the future will bring the perfect balance between his two albums, his ideal world.

This record completes the project, but feels less like a whole listening experience and more of a thought experiment into tribute, ownership, and what it means to love a song enough to recontextualize it on your own terms.

This is a solid record, but nothing to dissuade interest in some Aaron Freeman originals.

The strength of this record is that, even without sunshine to bolster it, these songs remain enjoyable and nuanced.

In the end, Vol. 2 earns kudos for delivering something strikingly suited for those weird days where paranoia and uncertainty creep in.

Aside from a sneak peek at LP number eight though, Earth Division doesn't offer much of anything new to listeners.

Nothing's wrong with stylized (uber- or otherwise) music (Paul's Boutique was, after all). But it helps when the craft behind the glitz is just as compelling.

Their eagerness to separate themselves leads to mixed results, feeling alternatingly awkwardly forced and brilliantly composed.

It's definitely enjoyable, but it's also inconsequential.

Though not a bad album, Adult Film simply doesn’t hold up as well to the standard Kasher has set for himself over the years.

Despite the ability to place this on a continuum, this is a record that sounds so dissimilar from its kin, a unique new version of an old favorite.

The Devil's Rain feels like a 50/50 shot-in-the-dark project, starting in a place unsure of its own existence and finishing strong with the uncompromising "Death Ray."

[Davye Hawk] likened this album's conception to "a maze to get lost in," which is the exact way listeners should approach his latest creation, for all of its sprawling incertitude.

Mazes have demonstrated that they’re a band willing to venture outward. Listening to Better Ghosts, it’s hard to say that adventurous spirit isn’t working in their favor.

Overall, People and Things is well-crafted but may be a bit too much of what is a dying genre.

Hunters carries its own weight.

A reflection of the outfit’s independent nature, Les Revenants shows Mogwai succeeding in their aim to replace the typical anxiety-inducing scores of horror flicks with one that urges the viewer to uncover their own fears within the melody.

Through these tracks and beyond, Sollee keeps things interesting with his sonic creations.

A pretty fun romp of all the things that make The Hives so loveable.

It's a bit disappointing to see her regress from the bold moves she made on 2011's Marissa Nadler, but it seems to be the trade-off we've made for The Sister's lyrical clarity.

While the album as a whole can provide a generally good listen, it may collect dust in just a month's time.

Overall, What a Pleasure is essentially the Beach Fossils sound with the fuzz and some of the reverb stripped away. As expected from a transitional release, it's not a drastic shift, nor is it any better or worse, but it changes things just enough to keep the EP from being overly familiar.

Not a bad album by any means, Buffalo simply isn't a good album: a couple of decent tracks present themselves but it doesn't feel like a 45-minute investment.

DJ-Kicks might not be Gold Panda's next album, but it's a damn good DJ set.

Best Behavior has its share of highlights, as did their previous outing, %, but fails to deliver as a long-player. In the end, what we are left with are a handful of excellent singles, and sometimes that can be just enough to get the party started.

While Heroes adds some essential songs to his canon and certainly doesn't diminish his legacy, it ultimately lacks enough of what makes Willie Nelson albums so enjoyable: Willie Nelson himself.

Despite the successful musical navigation, there are moments on the record where the band loses its way slightly.

The grooves and the sonic wizardry work, but Fragrant World doesn't have half of the intensity, innovation, or memorable hooks of the group's two prior LPs.

Sees the Light ditches the brusque garage rock roots of Vivian Girls in favor of girl group-influenced pop, but a palpable aggression gives this sophomore effort an energy her debut lacked.

Some of the finer details might be lost on the live presentation, but it's nothing to cry about when you consider that you're hearing Wire in their natural habitat.

The album title evokes a sense of novelty and wonder, but paradoxically, the summation of New Wild Everywhere is not as great or wild as that of previous albums.

La Sera is still a solid collection of lush dream pop that is a trip down memory lane worth taking.

The album is a good listen, but it isn't anything the world hasn't heard before.

Collett may have dodged the usual pitfalls of political music, but some more risk might have truly captured the anger that he, and the rest of the nation, feels.

From the lean, scrappy production value to the grandiose guitar solos and Alex Coxen’s wobbling, vocal delivery a la Grant Hart, the record has the messy fingerprints of indie rock’s cherished first wave smeared all over it.

There's an unsettling haze that inches along with Better Luck Next Life, due in part to vocal duties shared among the off-kilter pairing of Jeremy Cox and Jigmae Baer.

Ferreira follows with a smörgåsbord of styles taking in electro-pop, country torch song, grunge and urban crossover pop.

Yeah Right is a charming record, showcasing an act willing to broaden the range of its musical output. However, the album's instrumental sojourns and lyrical plainness feel more like science fair trial-and-error rather than true experimentation.

Think of it as maturing without growing up, and it works here on a handful of tracks.

As they stand, this is a batch of tunes that are an interesting way to have their buddy Dunn show up and try something new.

Self/Entitled is a much-welcomed step back in the right direction, offering all the proof long-time fans need that age still hasn't quelled the band's nonconformist, seriocomic ways.

Desert Skies is a document of a band content with trying on various personae without pushing them into new and original areas.

There are enough flashes of brilliance on Tripper to make it a great album, but unfortunately enough little moments like that electronic groove on "Kid Life Crisis" to show that there's plenty more for them to reach for.

Save for the five minutes of “Pulaski at Night”, a worthy new essential, each of the remaining 30-plus are superfluous, intended to complement that song; this album is, essentially, really a single forced into the width of an EP.

Nearly three years into a relationship with Grossi, it’s natural to want him to find comfort. But, hopefully that doesn’t necessitate coming at the expense of these somber dreamscapes.

Appropriately, her mellow voice layered upon rounded instrumentation makes the album blend into one long, sophisticated lullaby.

Wash the Sins Not Only the Face initially appears to be more of the same from Esben and the Witch. The album's perplexing textures and assured vocals, though, add density to the Brighton trio's desolate mood and sinister themes.

The instrumental quality on Evening Tapestry is beyond solid, but altogether, it's a recognizably decent piece of retro psychedelic pop.

Jetlag comes off secluded and intuitive, which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t cut his talents short.

Yes, face The Joy Formidable's something and it's better than most. Just don't dig too deep for what that something is.

It took me more than a few listens to pick up on this subtle understanding of baroque rock.

Through '70s power pop and honey-soaked, AM radio vocals, Benson offers a worthy argument to view him as a peer rather than a protégé to Mr. White.

There's a craft to their harmonies, their timbral choices, and even their restraint.

While the highs ("64 Impala", "Slash Gordan") could be higher, the lows aren't actually all that low. As far as full-length rap collabos go, you could do much worse than this.

Though these five songs trend closer to his earlier material, Wish Hotel makes it clear that Mondanile has become more adept at writing fully-formed, accessible songs.

Exudes sheer fun as it embraces an honest love of classic House.

Year Zero probably would have worked better as a more condensed EP featuring only the new material.

It feels like there's a lot of miscommunication in Shakedown, like killer pop hooks make for a good party, but not much more.

GMB is a relaxed, enjoyable rap record by three dudes who have fun rhyming words together.

Gold Motel is in the truest sense a feel-good record, one perfectly suited for the mellow, hazy days it reaches so far to recreate.

Ghost Brothers of Darkland County is chockfull of slow-to-mid tempo tracks that prevent it from truly soaring, musically. Without repeated listens, it’s difficult to follow, but this release should be treated as a teaser.

Although The Solution is too hung up on the past to be relevant in the present, it remains a competent throwback to hip-hop's golden age, an era that both artists seem to be yearning for. That nostalgia pervades The Solution.

On La Costa Perdida (The Lost Coast), their first album in eight years, CVB explore their old California stomping grounds and stumble upon a perfect mix of middle-aged nostalgia and youthful yee-haw.

This isn't a mixtape that you're going to be bumping in your crib for months to come, but it is one that is contextually very important to her career. It warrants at least one listen for that reason alone (plus it's 100% free.)

The hooks are still here, but that level of hyper-attentive musicianship is absent on this decidedly punchier, glossier effort.

Aside from initial single "Stone Letter" and its vitriolic chorus, most won't come away humming many of the hooks or melodies, the way one might after listening to a Faith No More album.

Beneath the lyrics live a less-than-cohesive batch of songs. But when the band allows each track a little more breathing room, they show some growth and have a good time doing it.

At its best, Campfire Songs is a modest document of the spirit and atmosphere that produced New Moon.

The album’s middle stagnates some, but even at its least focused, Invisible Life is a pleasant experience, Lange’s downy production floating by like a pastel cloud.

While Delorean may claim that Apar is their record of maturation because of the record’s increase in production technique and attention to the “rules” of pop, the record still doesn’t feel fully formed.

The sophomore effort from this San Francisco-based five-piece is just what its title suggests: a development from the band's debut that boasts a more mature sound, thanks in part to producer Eli Crew.

The "cute" songs on this album are still the strongest, but the songs that show them stretching their wings are still worthwhile.