Everything All The Time runs not only on imagination but on determination – the mix of the two is what makes it exceptional.

Is Is will especially appeal to fans who found "Show Your Bones" a little soft. On the other hand, this release should appeal to any and all Yeah Yeah Yeahs aficionados.

More Fish has a fishy flavor and smell but has little else resembling the hard-hitting potency of its mind numbing predecessor, Fishscale.

Meanderthals are a collaboration between Idjut Boys and Rune Linbaek, with a sound that is a bit of a fluffier than what we have traditionally come to expect from the Smalltown Supersound label roster. That fluffiness adds a fresh breeze to the otherwise unassuming mix of throwback downbeat and Scandinavian folk strumming.

The sequel is a graceful transition into more polished product with an emphasis on detail and melody-all while retaining the visceral screech of the debut.

While there's no immediate pop hit present a la "Feel Good Inc" or "Clint Eastwood" to get sucked into straight off, Albarn's ability to juggle his rotating ensemble cast and still spin a cohesive yarn for all of sixteen tracks remains something to behold.

The complex emotional duality of the disc is nothing less than penetrating. Most of the tracks are danceable as well as lonesome, and can be enjoyed in a variety of settings.

Its sagging middle aside, Valende may be one of the stronger psychedelic pop releases to come my way in the last couple of years.

The Age of the Understatement is weirdly epic (Nick Cave), full of harmony (Mamas and the Papas), a little charming (Robbie Williams) and dead fucking sexy (any James Bond but Timothy Dalton).

The music is what makes Lupe's pretensions palatable.

One of the most exciting and substantial records so far this year.

Sons and Daughters stand apart from their poppier counterparts with their less-produced sound and their sturdy foundation of nothing more than a chugging rhythm section, intense vocals and that awesome mandolin.

If you’re looking for a roaring, well-executed good time, look no further: the Ponys are practically peerless.

Now then, aside from all that, "After the Garden" and "Families" are right up there with "Rockin in the Free World" for displays of board-stomping bravado, which is of course much less the goal here than raising awareness.

Celebration is pure ecstasy, a sexual, spellbinding listen that acts on you physically.

Califone’s latest offering is not to be missed and certainly one of the best albums of 2006.

This is not a complete or coherent narrative of despair, as the two album halves don’t particularly work with one another—it really feels like two EPs sewn together. But the effort is more than evocative enough to scare the hell out of you, at least for a little while.

It boasts the asset of versatility, possessing the buoyancy and charisma of a distinguishable party album whilst remaining resistant to the usual temptations associated with the so-called “lap-pop” tag.

Laura Burhenn just smolders over a piano-heavy groove. It really is as close to Dusty as they get, but what makes this record special is the way that even when the lyrics clunk up some of the smooth blue-eyed soul (opener and sort-of title track "What We Gained in the Fire" comes to mind), the production is so plainly gorgeous that it really feels like nitpicking (even if it really isn't).

Leo and company go over a lot of territory on this release, but it is not bothersome or a stretch; the band pulls off all of these styles very well.

It goes without saying that The New Year is an album that will draw comparisons to the Kidane brothers' previous group. The good news is that in the face of such unavoidable observations, the album easily stands up on its own.

Most of these tracks can be found on the Internet in their original Iron & Wine incarnations, and all but one sounds 100% better that way.

Dents and Shells is human in the best and truest kind of way: it is the work of a man, appreciative of feeling and progress, warts and all.

Rehab has every right to coast on the momentum of Ghost's hot streak--exploit it, if you will--for an overload of same.

This album's brilliance comes from the titanium-larynxed Tom Gabel's juxtaposition of the listener's jaded expectations of punk with too-direct-to-be-dishonest sentiments.

The '59 Sound delivers just about everything you could hope for in a well-written rock album.

The band seems powerful at their best moments, but may yet be too tentative to really grab hold of their own work.

Reznor and Ross have pulled off something fairly remarkable here, creating a record that could've existed on its own as an original NIN production, but serves almost perfectly as the sonic document of the evolution of an online phenomenon that began in the dorms of Harvard and eventually took over Silicon Valley.