There's a more visceral quality that will help win over those that have been on the fence in the past.

The Stage Names is much more of a balls-out rock album than most of Okkervil River's oeuvre, and also more orchestral and layered, with arrangements that include everything from non-sissy glockenspiel to metronome percussion. The complexity is the perfect counterpart to Sheff's dense writing.

Unlike the many psychedelic loop-crazy Panda Bears popping up these days, Twin Shadow skilfully crafts structured songs that stand out and are full of soul and mournfulness.

The band’s put together one of their more accessible albums, full of immediate thrills instead of drawn-out weirdness.

The production’s grittier qualities suggest heavy emotions lie beneath his sardonic facade, but the sense that Grant feels liberated in middle age is what comes across most strongly.

A shockingly good batch of rock, pop and punk tunes.

Even if his singing never touches Damon Albarn's, he seems confident in his voice, using his shortcomings to his advantage to burn through 13 tracks inspired by a passion for late-70s Brit punk.

He delivers a tour de force on each track, solidifying his rep as one of the most dynamic performers in pop.

Without a doubt, this is his poppiest album--but he still holds on to his penchant for a good vocal-less groove.

While there's definitely some anger here, Pujol seems to make equal use of pure adolescent joy, and you soon realize that his nerdier tendencies are what holds all of this together.

Like her prior work, the songs are thematically dark and diffuse, but the dancey impulses on Vessel and Seekir signal headier paths ahead.

In reconnecting with her former Eric's Trip bandmates, Doiron rediscovers her edge, wrapping her warm, frayed vocals around awkward and occasionally dissonant melodies, layering multi-track self-harmonized phrases over heavyish rock-focused arrangements and crafting dynamic songs that leave you with a satisfying sense of being shaken up.

In this current moment, when the us vs them of identity politics is at a sharp pitch, it's an enlightened view for an artist to put forth.

Anyone who's spent time digging through crates of dusty vinyl would be thrilled to find 12 previously unheard boogie songs that stand up this well.

Cosmic Troubles lives up to the promise shown on Lack Of A Lake. It's mellow, super-chill dream pop.

The title track, Show Me, Drive The Night and Face 2 Face are ostensibly about a failing romantic relationship but crafted to read as if the daggers are also aimed inward, which adds an interesting duality to the album's titular theme.

No matter which of their sonic dimensions the band happens to be bolstering, the resulting blast is always creative, energetic and memorable. In short, they make you want to fight and dance at the same time.

Despite the more professional scenario, they resisted the temptation to pile on unnecessary ornamentation, and instead pared back to the essentials. As a result, they've finally captured their live energy on disc, coming up with the album that might be their big breakthrough.

The melodies are a bit more major key, but if you listen closely, the lyrics are as gloomy as ever (in a good way).

Devoid of filler and pop vocalist appearances, Red Gone Wild's a solid surprise for fans who thought the Funk Doc's career had gone up in smoke.

The weakest tracks--the hackneyed anthem Love Is Blind, the dreary Hurt Me--are the most radio-friendly and interrupt the album's flow. But that's not a major drawback. In fact, for many new artists, either track would be a high-water mark.

The sum is a subtly powerful lo-fi indie rock record produced by John Congleton, who’s proved capable with other bands (Okkervil River, Modest Mouse) of making the production as emotionally intense as the soul-baring songwriting.

On first listen, it seems like they picked some pretty obvious anthems, but the standards are bookended by enough discoveries to make the overall package strong.

The songs are still simple, but they're delivered with a sophistication only hinted at on her debut.

The tunes are lively, soulful and diverse, each with Earle’s Texas drawl and trademark poetic storytelling in the foreground.

At times you kind of wish he’d settle down and just write a proper pop song, but the intoxicating mess of textures and ideas is too addictive and fascinating to complain about.

Cohen’s voice is at the centre of all the songs – present and passionate, the unmistakable deep rasp even better matching his searching weariness the older he got. And it’s all here, that never-duplicated mix of sex and death, the sacred and the profane.

There are lots of references thrown into their oddball funk, but it's starting to sound completely logical and natural.