It's noble to see Iron & Wine trying to take his songs into a different direction, but it's a shame that he lacks the confidence to allow these great songs to show off their personality without the help of inane studio glossiness.

Thank Your Lucky Stars is definitely a treat--we shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, as another new Beach House album is always welcome--but arriving so soon after Depression Cherry, it is bound to get lost in the shadow of its predecessor because frankly, it isn't nearly as compelling.

While Eight Gates seems mostly germinal and is not the ideal introduction to Molina's work, fans will likely forgive the album's inchoateness and simply appreciate another dollop of the artist's distinct melancholia — nine tunes that underscore his attunement to suffering, inconsequence, and the brutality of the corporeal world.

The Sun's Tirade is pleasant, but it's not timeless.

All A Man Should Do is the band's first album in three years and could do with more of the tenacity that has made them crowd favourites, and less of the self-pity.

Wistful and introverted themes abut against a handful of more fraught moments, where the memories turn from monochromatic to colourful clusters, like autumnal avalanches of melody.

That's not to say Young Blood is bad, but mediocrity shouldn't attract attention so fast.

A Series of Shocks shoots for a different kind of looping hypnotism but lands slightly short.

From start to finish, the album is a mix of complete swamp-rock songs, only to be broken up by confusing, short bursts of instrumentation.

While the sound splashed across Wrecked is quite gripping (exceptionally gritty electronic that heavily works the industrial angle), the lack of distinction within, and contrast between, tracks makes it tough to get behind.

Stetson does an admirable job finding ways to maintain a tone of persistent unease, but his compositional skills are tested by the film's reliance on abstract horror with occasional visceral shocks over any kind of concrete story or consistent character beats. Detached from the visuals it makes for a pretty bumpy ride.

Despite its "six years in the making" descriptor, Allegiance and Conviction feels more like an EP of collected experiments toward a new, more realized work. A satisfying stop along the way to the main attraction.

Reassemblage is compelling, sure, but perhaps only for those who have the patience or curiosity for an exploration of the sonic predecessors of electronica.

Richard remains a testament to boundary-pushing, genre bending and expectation-shattering art, though Second Line's tempered grandiosity ultimately leaves her ambition underserved.

Too often, they rely on imitation of their influences, rather than pushing the genre forward in a compelling way.

If you can get past the haughty lyrics on "Fickle Sun (ii)," for instance, then its minimalist piano notes will surely impress. And yet, even that song's musicianship sounds downright conventional compared to preceding tracks "Fickle Sun (i)" and opening track "The Ship," a 21-minute composition that begins with solemn synth moans like a distant vessel's horn.

It's all good, but none of it is great. Still, if this is merely the first taste of an eventual vault series of releases from Townes Van Zandt's musical archive, it's more than enough to make us hunger for more.

Like much of Willie's work these days, Band of Brothers might not bring many new fans into the fold, but it's sure to please those already there.

The album is slippery, but perhaps not in ways that are interesting enough to memorable, and definitely not as much as his previous work.

Rival Sons are a great band with a great sound; the only thing they're guilty of is doing what they do really well, but then exhausting it over and over again.

Untame the Tiger feels more like something that was worked away at as a healing distraction, put down and picked back up at irregular intervals. The album’s first half generates a positive charge that tapers off toward its conclusion, but Timony’s sly guitar magic is always there to provide a jolt of life.

It's evident that the two were having a good time recording Hokey Fright, and though the album isn't always successful, it's encouraging to see creative individuals ignore genre boundaries in order to bridge gaps.

What we get on Psychedelic Pill are stream-of-consciousness attempts ("Driftin' Back"), along with musings on the grim reality of old age ("Ramada Inn") and the regrets that come with it ("Walk Like A Giant").

Apart from the uprated production, there's not a great deal to offer to listeners.

Stalley showcases eclectic strengths on this release, but focus certainly isn't one of them.

It's upbeat, fashionable and sounds great in the background when you're only half paying attention. Rather than seizing his moment in the spotlight, Parker sounds like he's just enjoying the journey.

There's no question that The Stand-In is a step-up from her previous effort; her delivery and songwriting show a confidence that previously lacking. However, The Stand-In is no stand out.

Civil Disobedience functions well as a single purpose stoner rock record, but fails to offer anything new or exciting.