Thanks to the commercial success of the new class of R&B singers like The Weeknd and Frank Ocean, Otis’ sultry R&B has found a market in 2013.

The duo’s debut album solidifies that process, but doesn’t stray far outside of the range set by Beacon’s For Now and No Body EPs. The sound is smooth, but the stakes are low.

Put simply, The Great Gatsby soundtrack resonates like the dinky Grammy sampler album they give to us plebeians who aren’t important enough to attend the ceremony anyway.

Spaltro pleads and howls her way to the crux of the matter, finds her own way out, and leaves a poetic map behind for the rest of us.

When Fink sings, “I think still after all these years, something still burns,” on the chorus, seven tracks in, we’re left feeling less like teens trapped on an island and more like parents who have beaten the odds and stayed together. Similar disruptions that take us away from “teenland” are the records’ main fault, though it’s largely successful as a sunny summer album.

Weird Work is less synthesized and more nuanced than their previous works.

The short interludes (“Superheros” and “WYHUOM”) break the album’s pace and hold back some of the flow. Overall, though, the combination of Rock and Dawson is undeniably addictive.

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.

It’s a cagey, manic record that tethers the band’s new-American muscle to Cox’s longstanding self-immolation.

Already so many people have been championing 2013 as the strongest year for music in recent memory, and they’re not wrong, but here’s an album that has the punch and wit to stick around with the best.

Recorded live in the studio rather than piecemeal, Savages’ debut album Silence Yourself sees the band completely locked in with each other.

Too often, elements of the LP are unrecognizable from that of its competition.

Where once they were on the cusp of the avant, breaking down walls through experimentation and sonic manipulation, with Fool Metal Jack, rather than come off as updated or even retro-fitted, they simply sound dated.

The album loses its confidence through multiple exhibitions of mundane excess, fracturing the dexterity to hold up over time, and proving that not everyone can focus in deep isolation.

English Little League is a red wheelbarrow full of awesome.

Everybody Loves Sausages exceeds every expectation for a covers album, especially one so far into a band’s career.

The 10 tracks of Elephant Stone are concise, pop song-length statements that more clearly reflect Dhir’s vision--one he’s learning how to bring to life.

Take a spin through Denison Witmer’s 11 songs, and whether listening to an album stream or consciously and individually clicking through the individual tracks, distinguishing song-to-song shifts proves difficult, as Witmer chooses an acoustic guitar as his primary partner and additional instruments (hear: light percussion, occasional keys, and drowsy bass) are reduced to mellowing sleep-aids.

Vol 3: To See More Light is his strongest and most cohesive collection in his career, aided in large part by the head-turning vocals of Justin Vernon, who appears on four of the 11 tracks on the album.

Given enough time, these experienced musicians should be able to pare things down to these more focused moments, finding the right songs to drape with their ultra stylized vision.

Listening to Excavation is a profoundly visceral experience.

More often than not, Junip can essentially be heard as an instrumental pop album with the music feeding and building off itself. After seeing parts of three separate decades together, Junip have finally worked up to what they can be at their best.

The trio continue on that trajectory, the mystic chanting and ceremonial trances dancing through the scattering ash. Due to that cratered impact, everything on the album sounds urgent, an exhilarating feeling that takes a while to escape.

Existential nu-disco hasn’t been done to death, but it has been done better than this.

That fleeting escape aside [“Unfriendly World”], Ready to Die is another torrid tour de force from a band built for speed, not comfort.

The Low Highway once again reveals that Earle’s gift for songwriting owes not only to an ear for melody but also to an ear attune to the quiet sufferings that most of us ignore.

With this collection of simple, endlessly enjoyable indie pop, Heza and Generationals make the statement against giving up and remaining stagnant.

These cavernous guitar effects, corrosive beats, and inspiring melodic twists magnify If You Leave, an album with true grandeur and occasion.