An ambitious, sprawling string of songs.

And while lyrically nothing comes close to eclipsing the pop genius of "Heartbeats" from their previous release, Deep Cuts, several tracks on Silent Shout demonstrate considerable growth both lyrically and musically, making this a solid follow up from a band that has further evolved their own curious brand of synthpop.

This is Mission of Burma’s most aggressive and impassioned record to date.

This is not an easy record to absorb. The band’s rough-hewn production is tinny and sonically chaotic, but underneath the surface noise lurks one of the finest records of the year.

Each listen reveals depth and texture that allow the hooks plenty of room to breathe.

It all unfurls more like a musical than an indie rock record, but don’t let the dissonance scare you away.

An astoundingly seductive debut.

It is a little more scattered than the last few proper Stereolab albums in terms of musical threads, but the urbane electro-funk of “Interlock” as well as the jittery disco pomp of “Eye of the Volcano” prove that Stereolab is still tweaking the formula with one foot in Esquivel’s grave and the other several light years away.

Mr. Beast isn’t Mogwai’s most challenging or daring record, but it might be its most beautiful or powerful.

The Strokes match their innate catchiness with a new found intensity that makes First Impressions of Earth sound like a band hungry for blood.

The album skillfully and confidently showcases all of Martin Gore’s songwriting strengths.

She’s clever and sharp with her lyrical daggers, and she’s frighteningly aware of the impact of her own voice.

Once all the influences roll off your tongue, however, you’ll find yourself speechless before the excitement this album will invariably instigate.

Gorgeous, lush, and surprisingly optimistic.

Takk is sharper and more direct than anything the band has previously churned out, but that is not to say it’s by any means accessible by normal standards.

Late Registration... definitely mines familiar terrain, but West’s zeal for clever wordplay juxtaposed with his unflinching confidence makes for a charismatic and often electrifying punch.

By turns goofy, intellectual, and non-sequitur lyrics are indecipherable without the lyric sheet, but the strangely alluring charm of songs like "The Skin of My Country Yellow Teeth" will have you clamoring for more.

It’s an expansive and stupendously produced record with a handful of remarkable songs.

It isn’t until you’ve given it your full attention that the album starts to reveal its true depth and worth with songs that stick and get under your skin and make you come back for more.

Albarn’s ability to slither arrogantly from genre to genre while maintaining his charm is truly remarkable.

Not exactly radio friendly, The Woods explores sonic deconstruction a la Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix instead of the preciously catchy indie pop hooks you’ve come to expect.

Gimme Fiction may not be your favorite Spoon record right now, but give it a few years.

For a guy that has so little to say with so few ways to say it, Trent Reznor has mastered the art of making what is old sound new again.

Even though Guero sounds familiar sonically, it still pushes Beck further into a league that he all but owns.

The lyrical terrain is insultingly common (girls, life on the road, girls), yet the band has such an idiosyncratic method of expression that makes these everyday themes sound – at least over the course of each song – radically inspired.

On Take Fountain Gedge uses his sharpened songwriting chops to present his case and again proves himself a master of the pop song. It’s just that sometimes it feels like routine.

Low sounds fearless in its experimentation. Such personal intimacy juxtaposed with extremely haughty pretension could easily turn off listeners, but it’s all woven together so well that it’s hard to dismiss even the wrong turns.

These songs will undoubtedly knock the wind out of you, but for every dynamic explosion or screeching wall of noise there’s a hook in tow.