Heartbeat Radio is Lerche's most eclectic outing yet, with no overarching concept beyond a consistent level of excellence.

The music of AFI wasn't always as daring as its fashion sense, but the NoCal band has grown with accelerating sophistication, stepping further beyond easy pop-punk thrashings to something grander, with music to match the mopey melodrama of Havok's words.

Love 2 is not a make-out album in the traditional sense. It's about the love of silence, stillness, of being a conscious human being and watching the world float by.

He filches from a variety of genres--Brazilian Tropicalia, glam rock, lounge jazz, Zeppelin-like psychedelia--but it never sounds awkward. He loosens the stitches on each to fashion his own unique costume.

The 10 songs course through the highs and lows with equanimity, from the pride and hope in Charlotte she expresses to the kindheartedness she displays for those acquaintances who've moved on.

At times Iyer and his charges exhibit so much virtuosity and skill it's almost overwhelming how quickly ideas rise and fall through a given track, but attempting to parse all this trio is trying to say is well worth the effort.

It's music that balances with uncommon elegance the desire to observe with the need to engage.

Johnston's best songs remind us that every mirror, like every voice, is always in danger of cracking. But that doesn't take anything away from the beauty of our illusions.

Transference has the act experimenting more with textures and mood. The result is a collection of melodic fragments and unexpectedly welcome left turns.

Throughout the follow-up to her 2006 album, "5:55," Gainsbourg never sounds out of her element, no matter how the music shifts underneath her feet.

Odd Blood ultimately reveals that beneath all the weird sounds, tribal harmonies and otherworldly textures, Yeasayer are still a bunch of indie-rock sentimentalists.

There is no instant hit of the "Living Dead Girl" variety, but across 11 songs, "Hellbilly Deluxe 2" is Zombie's most consistently tuneful record to date, without sacrificing the noise and industrial beats of the past.

"Soldier of Love" is unique in its confrontational tone, but it connects to the other best tracks on this album, which employ minimalism and the rules of cool to carefully reconstruct various musical styles.

Mercer's knack for twisting and turning melodies is impeccably served by Burton, who tempers and fulfills those melodies with laid-back but elaborate scores of synth, piano, organ and sometimes a full string section, the only instruments not played by Burton or Mercer.

This 11-track album--the second collection of collaborations by Touré and the Malian kora player Toumani Diabeté--doesn't sound like death. Rather, it's an early contender for the warmest, most life-affirming listen of 2010.

Whether the specifics involve being needed or wanting to fly away, lusting for someone or letting go, "New Amerykah Part Two: Return of the Ankh" is a velvety, but still appealingly odd, exploration that feels more like a casual counterweight than a heady sequel.

This bluesy, heartland-soaked musical excursion features meaty support from guitarist Doug Lancio, bassist Patrick O' Hearn and drummer Kenneth Blevins, wittily informed nods to such influences as Chuck Berry, the Rolling Stones and Willie Dixon and plenty of the rock soulfulness that's integral to the sound he's been honing for decades.

Hutz has said that Rubin encouraged him to focus on his songwriting as opposed to the band's frantic live show, and "Hustle" bears out that claim with catchier melodies and more slogan-ready lyrics.

The group's debut oozed with chemistry, and that musical empathy has just grown stronger and tighter here. And both in songwriting and musical execution--the operative word throughout here--the Dead Weather has crafted the equivalent of a taut, expertly directed movie thriller.

The pleasure is in listening to how often the National scrapes up close to maudlin, only to retreat in the nick of time.

At times, the fumes of ambition are so thick off "The ArchAndroid," it's hard to absorb in one sitting. All the same, it's a star-making debut.

Tasty cuts abound here, but Sir Lucious is most enjoyable as a complete listening experience.

In its 12 tracks, M.I.A. explores both what it means to serve as a sexual/romantic ideal in the Beyonce way, and what happens when a self-consciously political artist like herself confronts the sentimental streak deep within.

One of the best summer blockbusters in recent memory, Teflon Don proves how thin the line is between a flight of fancy and something fantastic.

The Suburbs is an accomplished love letter that radiates affection as much as bitterness.

The songs are so good they can disarm any skeptics.

For much of the record, Mellencamp is eyeing death and laughing at the devil or, as in the back-porch-folk of "Easter Eve," bonding with his son by brawling with strangers. A little cranky, but far more carefree Mellencamp slips into a rocking chair groove on the lost-lover lament of "Don't Forget About Me" and concedes that he's "spotty at best." Over the course of his 30-plus-year career, sure, but not here.

God Willin' & the Creek Don't Rise has a natural feel, comfortably ranging from bar-band rave-ups to contemplative acoustic numbers, with master pedal steel player Greg Leisz leading several tracks into the expertly unfussy territory of blue-chip Nashville country rock.