A true supergroup -- a set of songs that might be superior to either group's work separately.

Snaith simply dictates the flow of emotions and events on this record, with the kind of command presence rarely seen.

[A] sonic sheen (and the punchy rhythm section) gives the songs an immediacy that the previous reunion records have lacked.

And though she may be running in place lyrically, her melodies have never been keener and her vocals grow richer and more confident with each release.

The Wedding is a worthwhile gamble and a record like no other in the Oneida catalogue. Which, come to think of it, makes it a lot like every other Oneida record.

Mice Parade is an original, hovering over multiple traditions without disturbing any of them.

A bipolar rock opera for the ages.

The Sunset Tree may just be The Mountain Goats's most poetic, coherent work.

Awfully Deep, on the whole, is a bold, ambitious swing for the fences. But, like it or not, the game's done changed, and Manuva '05 sounds way too much like Manuva '01.

Even the most hardened, poker-faced purists will crack a smile at AIH's ridiculously catchy, hook-riddled dance-pop.

Part of the problem with Alligator is that it echoes so many other records, but part of its satisfaction is that it sets itself apart so well.

Furthers the high concept lyrical talents of the group with an added twist: a more atmospheric, slightly new wave sensibility.

Although Lost and Safe would be a crowning achievement for any band, The Books show no sign of running out of beautiful musical ideas to convey.

Suspended Animation, on the whole, is a technical marvel; a kaleidoscopic foray into death metal, Looney Tunes sound effects, and an alarming balance of slapstick and pathos.

If Blues isn't as immediately classic-sounding as Molina's 2003 pseudo-debut, it still harbors enough affecting songs to make you pause and admire the man's craft.

By album's end, two coming-of-age stories are complete: the boy has grown into a black sheep man, and the literate musicians have become a hell of a rock band.

Arular is what The Coup’s second record set out to be but wasn’t: Party Music, both for the warehouse hedonists and the basement dissidents.

While the music is as delicious and diverse as ever, the Decemberists' meal ticket is Meloy's unmatched lyrical prowess, which borders at times on mod-Shakespearean.

Songs walk a delicate tightrope between the brain and the hips, and the libidinal release of the beat is denied, suggested, suppressed, and finally let loose to sweat it out.

Silence's instrumentals - choppy samples, organs, and horns, set to the tune of a staccato digital pacemaker - sound great, but they hardly stray from the formula laid down by Vocal Studies and Uprock Narratives.

Newcomers may want to start investigating with something less daunting, but even the casual fan of Cave's work will find this collection indispensable.

No Earthly Man demonstrates that all the glitz and studio production techniques used in making many records aren't really necessary to craft a compelling document.

While the new album doesn't quite topple 1998's Silur from its Tarwater throne, The Needle Was Traveling is certainly a more than credible addition to the band's discography.

Occasionally, you might wish for a more generous-sounding lead vocal or concise song structure, but 10th Avenue Freakout is populated with stimulating, rather than easily accessible, music.

Throughout, Doe strikes just the right balance. He's confident but not arrogant; laid back, yet full of vitality.

She's lyrically sharp as ever, and switches gears and works in nice melodies just enough to soften the edges, luring fans in before she pummels them.

No Wow is pure sex, pulsating blues-based rock and roll from start to finish.

Aside from the added guitar riffs and post-punk tones, Stars stick with a lush string section and neatly placed horns throughout, and their romantic appeal stays largely intact.