By removing much of their signature distant-sounding vocal filters, grand historical speeches, spacey drones, and tightly knit arrangements, Titus Andronicus has successfully eliminated any sonic barriers that once stood in between the band and their listeners.

Even if Sunflower Bean know how to carry a tune, a good portion of their songwriting choices can come across as clumsy. But even if they don't exert their confidence to their fullest extent, their themes on emotional and financial uncertainty find a place within the discontent of their generation.

The entire subject seems to be instinct, a bombardment from Friel’s own psyche, expressed in a way that words could never do. Being therefore, indescribable. But nevertheless astonishingly glorious.

The Stand Ins is a solid achievement cut from the same charming cloth, even if it doesn’t crisp in quite the same way "The Stage Names" did.

She takes some swings on Losing and Smog, but somehow, they don't end up distinguishing themselves too much compared to the songwriters of her generation. Still, Indigo's genuine frankness and distinctive vocals perfectly convey her vulnerable performances.

The sound remains unmistakably Shellac: guttural, sarcastic, and chock-full of anger.

It's not one of the year's best records, but it's churned out a couple of its best songs. At the very least, they've managed to create an atmosphere that's intriguing as it is entertaining.

Death Deams almost faultlessly conveys the volatility and incomprehensibility of their particular genius. There isn't even one clunker in here, which is a lot to say in a year that's already seen another rock renaissance.

Face the Truth is probably the most eclectic of all Malkmus’s work. There are elements of every Pavement album in amongst the tracks, with familiar noodly guitar intros, shouty, jaunty refrains and languid deadpan-rap segments.

Alvvays takes a decidedly more shambolic direction as it reaches its final half, which is worrisome considering its brief runtime, thereby overstaying its welcome by lacking some much needed punch. But it shouldn’t in any way discourage Rankin’s efforts as the band’s core member, whose astute, lovesick descriptions are more than just a pleasant diversion.

Guero is a record with lots of great ideas and some very good songs... but I can't help thinking that there's just something missing from this release.

His voice a weathered and worn device, there are facets to his personality that seem to make this album work, when otherwise its disjointed presentation would seem haphazard or pasted together. It’s also very short, clocking in at shy of thirty minutes despite its fifteen tracks.

Occasionally sounding like an air-raid in progress, as in 1956 And All That, Mclusky fortunately prove to be more than a one trick pony by the time grinding, pulsing closer Support Systems draws to an end.

Overall, it's another great GBV album that continues to spotlight the Pollard's staggering work of genius.

The album’s generative “concept” is as strange and incredible as its music.

Delightfully off-key and inimitable in their vision, Illegals to Heaven is another peculiar leap forward for a band that only sees through a singular filter.

Despite his grander statements falling flat and a mid album slump, Trick sees Jamie T at his absolute best.

Ruiz is an effective and ruthless firecracker who grills her subjects with no remorse, but she’s also welcoming and receptive to those who speak their mind with courage. Along with the rest of the band, they understand that they can only encourage participation and bolster awareness.

The Hanged Man is a return to form--not with a whimper but with a bang. It’s just not the bang we expected.

Feels' seething frustrations thrash with a clearer focus and no shortage of attitude.

Beyond the Door isn't without its filler (particularly on the back half) but considering how its 11 songs breeze by in around 30 minutes, the weaker songs are easy to shrug off and forget. It isn't one of those albums that finds the band pushing the limits of its riff-filled overdriven bubblegum pop, either, but it's just as satisfying as any of their other albums.

Swimmer and a few other songs hint at what could have been, only to have the other half of the album play it safe. If only more of Tennis' songs took risks on unexpected palettes of emotion and drew from more complex poetic wells, then they might provide us with something special. Instead, they've created another enjoyable, if a bit rote and predictable album, like a relationship drifting into comfortable and boring domestic habits.

II triumphantly bypasses novelty for a more meaningful level of significance: An album whose songs, personality, and band-chemistry come together for something that could well outlast its own current weirdness.

While the album isn’t quite the overhaul that quote makes it out to be, there are enough twists to catch longtime fans off guard. Even with eight albums to their name, The Hold Steady continue to prove that consistency doesn’t mean going stale.

The cryptic nature of Moonshine Freeze impresses when at its uncompromising best, but it can occasionally underwhelm when she favors slimmer bare-bones arrangements. Still, these marked contradictions only reveal an artist who’s allowing herself to walk on a less purposeful path.

The Rip Tide lacks an extension into flair, even though their music is already considered exotic by the instrumentation alone, the creative panache is missing.

Sensational isn’t as good as its title suggests, but there’s plenty to enjoy, even if you’ll be tempted to look for the joins to see how it’s all been done. But still, don’t think about things too much, and you’ll be “lovin’ it, lovin’ it, lovin’ it.”

A pretty decent album with a lot of filler.

Endearingly sorrowful without descending into outright misery, Leaders Of The Free World is exactly what we the listeners should expect from a band's third album.

A Sufi and a Killer never, ever repeats itself. Gonjasufi’s beautiful, instantaneously classic voice is the glue that holds it all together. It’s captivating.

Campbell’s resplendent tone delights with the plaintive cry of classic torch singers; instead or feeling pity or sympathy, we’re now in the presence of a commanding performer who doesn’t have to sacrifice an inch of naiveté to make an impression.

Foals create a testament to their longevity but also consider where this new era is going to take them. Is this Foals’ first front-to-back essential record? Not quite, but with Pt.2 around the corner, it’s surely just a matter of time.

Entrancing in its stillness, Phantom Brickworks solidifies Bibio as an artist of remarkable versatility.

Though The Golden Casket shows Modest Mouse at their most accessible and tuneful, a creative shift that started with 2004's Good News For People Who Love Bad News, they return to some of the experimental aspects that defined so much of their early work.

The result is that most rarefied of things, a Paul album with no throwaways.

Nothing Valley is an intense, hugely engaging listen.

What’s most startling about Clean is how Allison manages her emotions with compassion and a great sense of composure.

In Love With Oblivion may only display grey intonations on first impression, but multiple spins begin to unfurl its ghoulish sense of atmosphere.

The effect is stark, and intensely compelling. At 17 tracks long, this is a listen that plumbs substantial depths, but in Blake’s world, time ceases to be a constraint.

A real record of substance. Yes, it has the undeniable single; but boy, the nine tracks either side of that are really something.

Sports Team does have the tunes to match their swagger, and having a sense of humor certainly doesn't hurt.

It's the murkier-in-tone moments that stand out: while The Price Was High emerges with spellbinding dissonance and keeps the tension throughout, A Hitch surrounds its ringing hook with rippling guitar work. Tarantula is poised to become a staple on their future setlists alongside past singles like Winona, on which the band turns up the tempo with a driving melodic groove that satisfyingly fades as soon as it hits.

Don't get it twisted: this isn't a classic. There are a few lame tracks, and Freeway still occasionally stumbles over some dumb rhymes. However, listening to his Ghostface-esque storytelling on Never Going To Change or his Tyson-like intensity on One Thing or even his fear on Money, it isn't had to believe that Free has a great album in him.

This compilation isn't for everyone and does contain a few duds. But there are more than enough gems in here to deserve a purchase from any Elbow fan or fanatic.

Her sound is a junksale of clutter and certified gems. I can feel you… is her most sonically sharp weapon to date, and full of plenty to get excited about if you rifle through it.

With The Bride, Khan has created a sublime tale of sorrow and recovery, of accepting loss and working through pain to become a stronger person. Likewise, Khan has taken her interest in similar journeys from earlier albums and used them to make her most consistently captivating work thus far.

II follows its predecessor’s footsteps to the T, acting less as an evolution and more as a sharp, acute continuation of what made that album such a force to be reckoned with.

Several Shades of Why is plaintive and embryonic to the point of breaking down barriers, musically and personally. It's as if the meat has been torn off the bone leaving us with the carcass. And as carcasses go, this one is mighty pretty.

Not only is Seeds the most direct and optimistic album, but in some ways, it's their poppiest.

Try it out, it's definitely worth it, just not anything you'll be rushing to your guitar to emulate. Or maybe it is, if you're in to taking it easy.

With such masterful creativity and an ability to connect with listeners emotionally, no matter what language they are singing in, Ibeyi may have already released the debut album of the year.

It’s grandly impressive and points to potentially greater things in the future.

It does breeze on by without any major impact, but there’s a select number of pleasantly bittersweet cuts that are sure to liven up your afternoon commute for weeks on end.

They honestly sound like no other known band.

Dissolution Wave is a phenomenal record with a broader appeal than you’d expect. If you like your shoegaze heavy or your metal atmospheric, you’ll love it.

Bish Bosch is a wilder, more scattered (and scatty, in the case of Epizootics!, ten minutes of sax-driven jazz which could almost be seen as accessible, if it wasn't so dark and threatening) work than its immediate predecessors.

It has all the joyousness, all the Pet Sounds hallmarks, and yes, all the bloody echo chamber of the best of the genre.

On this fine album, Wilkinson seems intent on capturing this precious, ambivalent space.

There’s more of an improvisational focus to a lot of Thread, where they take on themes such as immigration policy and ecological concerns with their usual storytelling flair. It does have a familiar, intuitive touch; this is Calexico, after all. But the duo never does things with little effort or care.

What Terrestrials does reveal about Sunn O))) is their amiability, their unique potential to bring the concept of Sunn O))), if not its distinct sound, to an album that really isn’t quite their own.

Momofuku has glorious fragments and plenty of passion.

They write songs that make you feel good, and sound good, whenever they come on, and they do it in such a way that you truly feel like you’re listening to them for the first time.

This EP is not a singles-ready collection, nor should it be. Instead, the atmospheric songs do their part to transport the listener to another mood or mindset.

Rather than the nostalgic, distant wistfulness of last year’s work, Bem-vinda is much more open, and while there are complex rhythms and arrangements in abundance, none of this gets in the way of some eminently hummable tunes.

Multi-Love demonstrates that the band isn’t beholden to a singular, lo-fi aesthetic. And for now, that’s more than enough.

There are additions to her guitar-pop foundation here, but they’re mostly limited to the occasional keyboard line or an anomaly like the dreamy synth outro of Outside with the Cuties. Met on its own terms, however, it’s a record that plays entirely to Kline’s strengths and confirms her as a worthy successor to the legacy of indie modesty.

There’s a deferential tone to Light Information that suggests he’s never really going to change his signature shtick, and even if we always know what to expect, it always feels like a warm return home from an always generous friend.

Strange Peace is about finding even a semblance of mental calm when everything seems awry, and hard to think of many other modern hardcore bands who could accomplish this with such genuine physicality.

On an album where Taylor nakedly reveals his most pressing moments of despair, it’s only in the album's handful of brighter moments that you wish for maybe just another small taste of the darkness. Taylor manages to flip his career-long look for the silver lining by acknowledging the pull of the worldly can only be put in a tidy little box for so long.

There's very little to complain about in Constant Future, apart from the fact that it's no great step forward from their previous material.

You, Whom I Have Always Hated is a beautifully punishing listen.

From start to finish, the instrumentation and production on We Are Him is immaculate

Dance is best enjoyed when you accept its familiar pleasures--it bursts with pure deliverance, coming from a band that refuses to hang in life support.

Though Darnielle skillfully furthers his compositional approach in In League with Dragons, there are times where his unbounded, bookish wit gets the best of him.

While not the most creative thing he’s produced, it feels naturally cohesive and stands as an interesting piece on its own.

The whole thing works beautifully, more with each listen.

Despite the obvious logistical convenience that made possible the merge of Boeckner and Daniel, A Thing Called Divine Fits makes a strong case for established musicians who randomly feel an urge to start a band.

I Don’t Run never ventures too far away from convention, but it doesn’t need to. It’s that familiarity that allows them to ramp up the sentimentality without coming across as kitsch.

Though Out Getting Ribs already gave us little reason to underestimate him, 6 Feet Beneath the Moon holds up as the kind of statement to truly brag about--a debut that’s masterfully crafted, reasonably ambitious, and, more importantly, exists as a truly unique statement.

This isn’t the breakthrough album that nobody expected. This is precisely the album everyone was waiting for from Metric, a culmination of all their strengths and a slicing off of the fat that may have slowed them down in the past.

Admiral Fell Promises sits somewhere in the middle of being a series of musical pieces and being an album. It's brave, but Kozelek's grace and musical deftness means he never risks alienating his audiences and makes Admiral Fell Promises another essential addition to Kozelek's remarkable catalogue.

If nothing else can be said about The Terror, it at least represents the culmination of all of The Flaming Lips’ oddball experiments and elongated, anti-sonorous jams into a single, abrasively beautiful cacophony.

Ghost Blonde brings a glimmer of hope to those who feel that noise has remained stagnant, past overdue its last hurrah. As these set of songs pinpoints, there's still plenty to discover in a genre that has always shown itself as deviously minimal.

It’s a pleasant listen with some great moments herein.

There’s a brittle vulnerability present in Viet Cong that triggers an innate sense of curiosity and optimism despite the downtrodden tone it adopts.

Their song-oriented approach recharacterizes a project that was once known for their simple, garage revivalism. Wand now rise above that notion--it's a refreshing move that makes it even harder to pin down their artistic evolution.

They used to make little records like this in the anything goes early 80’s. It’s nice to see Konigsberg bringing it back.

Trees Outside the Academy sparkles with an eclectic (yet accessible) sound that has my early vote for Album of the Year.

Root For Ruin is an album of decent, somewhat disappointing Les Savy Fav songs, but as its come to pass in the indierealm, any batch of Les Savy Fav songs is better than no batch of Les Savy Fav songs.

From the moment it starts to its very last note, Final Summer comes rich with gargantuan hooks that make you feel alive. His more hopeful outlook might have inspired this creative renaissance, but Baldi unintentionally emphasizes the simple pleasures of a rock song with an earnestness that shadows his complex songcraft.

With varying strains of droning guitar sound carrying the album to a close, Boris’ sonic recognition of their roots pulses and shrieks, sounds that seem merely revisited and not completely inspired.

Throughout Emotional Mugger’s 39-minute runtime, Segall is comfortably out of step, abandoning the pop refinement of Manipulator to creative self-sabotage with some of the more album’s more electrified moments, which, while highlights, don’t constitute the bulk of the album.

Although Buffalo Tom will certainly never set the music world aflame with their lyrical content, Three Easy Pieces proves that getting old never sounded so good.

The EP highlight comes with 'My Mirror Speaks' recalling the band’s dynamic work from "Plans."

Those of us who aren’t already familiar with these tracks and are getting limited mileage out of Chasny’s recent exercises in finely honed border-psych will find that these patient, meditative, sky-minded nocturnes are just what the witch-doctor ordered.

Overall, the album’s sub-40-minute runtime leaves minimal room for filler.

The record manages to sound venturous and recklessly current. Iqbal’s use of chiming guitars, serendipitous synths and scurrying beats results in a record that is opulent in its warmth and sparklingly neat.

The Age of the Understatement might have been conceived as a tribute to a beloved era in music but thanks to the industry, enthusiasm and talent of Alex Turner and Miles Kane it’s become something much more interesting than that: a great record in its own right.