Not Them, You is one of those rare records that rewards on both repeated listens and initial forays.

Soft Spot is a winningly cohesive album -- both thematically and musically -- and shows Barzelay's songwriting talent growing exponentially.

Rendezvous is among the group's finest works.

Ten turns out a few good songs, but there are better solo records by each of its members.

Deerhoof's diversity is less a series of self-conscious genre references than a genuine proclamation of unimaginable artistic freedom.

The band sounds filthy and scorching.

[Has] a mysterious backwoods vibe worthy of Murmur-era REM.

Excise these less-than-enthralling moments and the forty-nine remaining minutes of Ultravisitor are satisfying.

For every misstep on the mostly acoustic Spooked, there's an undeniable classic.

He's simply not an authoritative enough singer to give many of his songs the treatment they deserve. Nevertheless, Lanois is an expert craftsman, and Shine is a rewarding, extremely enjoyable album.

On My Way promises to be voted "Most likely to get lost in your collection and never thought about again."

A timely twinkle of apple crisp bells, hearth-warming handclaps and belly-rubbing brass.

What separates them from their peers is a refreshing feminine perspective that draws from '60s girl groups and the conflicted teenage angst of Leslie Gore.

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.

A record brimming with potential.

Labeling Again as entirely derivative would be inaccurate, as Tan folds flourishes of dub and krautrock into a lascivious mix of after-hours cool.

The album cherry-picks the best songs from Farrrar's last few releases, and presents them in often superior form.

Maintains the urgency of their debut, developing ideas that were only in their infancy on their debut.

As with most things this conceptual, certain aesthetic sacrifices must be made. But Matthew Herbert is the remarkable musician, with his keen senses of rhythm and melody, who can pull off such an audacious ruse.

An album of both phenomenal concentrated bits, as well as some disappointing gaps.

It all recalls a traveling Klezmer troupe, unsure of its audience, warming up with tributes to "Schindler's List", "For Whom the Bell Tolls", and "The Godfather", while waiting to find out if they're playing a festival or a funeral.

They have all of the grandeur of the best REM ballads, but Snow Patrol leader Gary Lightbody sings with indie rock's characteristic understatement.

This is Bianchi’s tour de force, emotive but clever enough to avoid seeming self-centered or pathetic, and satisfying in its candid complexity.

Summer in Abaddon delivers an all-inclusive perfection that sets it apart from any other record this year.

Because every note is perfectly placed, and the contemplative mood sustained throughout, it's hard to notice the lack of originality and occasionally pedestrian songwriting.

The main funk base of E's sound remains consistent but is augmented with harder rock and blues elements, showing he is able to hold onto his signature sound while simultaneously twisting a piece of rose-colored glass into it.

The New Wave sensibilities and unorthodox flows become predictable, and the absence of APC's Priest and Saayid is felt by the end of Tomorrow.

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.