It’s a solid record that showcases all of The Avett Brothers’ talents and captures them, as well as their songwriting, in an interesting emotional place on their journey further down the road.

Spanning 22 tracks and the great sprawl of a nation, Big Wheel and Others compiles more of these vital impressions than any of McCombs’ previous releases, documenting something so damned beautifully alive--so restless and sensual and swinging and true--the album accrues power by virtue of its breadth.

The layers at times get a little too thick, enough to hide some of Follin’s words. But as packed as the songs get with incident and sound, the gooey goodness of Cults’ candy pop wins out every time.

Now 71, Paul has delivered his tightest album in years, confirming that the streak of goodness that began with Chaos and Creation in the Backyard wasn’t a fluke.

Silver Bell is generally best when it’s quietest, when Griffin’s vocals don’t have to compete with a denser sound.

With puffs of backing vocals and a shiny bursting guitar solo, all escaping emotions are artfully contained. Lissie sounds most comfortable in this mode, chugging meticulously forward.

His lyrics are far more discursive and poetic, and grapple more strongly with existential issues. Musically, it can make for inspired moments like the wowing extended coda of “Blackt Out” or the Grateful Dead-like “Key-Hole.” Just as quickly, though, things can go sour.

Pusha T paints a vivid picture of the things he knows best throughout My Name Is My Name.

Creative movements make Bitter Rivals an exciting and powerful record, because it reminds the listener that sometimes it’s okay to follow an idea into unexpected territory and shake things up.

Propulsive choruses, a musical cacophony that whirls and a melodic sense that secedes nothing to the rhythms, the scrappy quintet’s third album is a focused, frenzied affair.

If this is a new avenue of self-loathing for Kasher, it’s a welcome change of form from the perhaps more angular output of his screaming past. His gifts for wrangling emotive detours from unlikely sonic realms is his best talent, but he couldn’t do that without his crafty capacity for language, too. Stripped of the angry adornments of his yesteryears, we now may take him at his word.

While the album bolsters the band’s brand of sound rather than showcasing any significant amount growth in writing and arrangement, The Speed of Things is an exercise in consistency and accessibility. It’s refreshing.

He has wound up producing an album that transcends much of the typical hype bullshit and seems destined to stand as a unifying record, leaving no one asking for Danny Brown’s resume when he receives his share of the spotlight, making his sense of humor an ingredient rather than the whole meal.

Whether exposing light or dark, or some blank hue in the middle, Barnes has all but bulls-eyed his status as a brilliantly daring artist on Lousy.

Ranging from old-timey to reverential, soul to Appalachian, Mountain stands utterly his.

VII is Blitzen Trapper’s strongest album to date, with years of musical experimentation having come together in the band’s own mad-scientist brand of cosmic Americana.

Jubilee is their best album yet, and may very well be remembered as the most sincere release of 2013.

At 37:17, Pure Heroine doesn’t take long to take down modern values.

Fuzz’s eight songs smartly clock in at a taut 37 minutes.

In a world of quicker, faster, harder, it’s intriguing when songs spread out, taking their time to get to the point or create landscapes beyond the hook.

Glow & Behold is never shrill or musically obnoxious, but it’s obnoxious how dull it is.

just as the sequel-ness inherently implies, faithfulness to their past work sinks Event II, as just the sound and goals of the album seem out of place in 2013 and overly nostalgic, without adding much to the conversation that seemed long finished.

The changes seem to be more internal to the band’s processes and each member’s role as they branch out and record together, but that confidence in each other bleeds through in these songs.

The LP is frontloaded with could be Top 10 hits, leaving the back half of the album awash in afterthoughts.

The good news is that the extras that come along with the albums are fantastic. There’s not much that the completest won’t have heard, but most people will be really happy to have the best of the band’s B -sides, extended 12-inch versions and EP extras collected on three CDs.

Even if the whole thing isn’t world-upheaving. Those standalone tracks make it worth a whirl.

The Diving Board isn’t love at first listen. It quietly opens itself after several spins, unveiling a complex, winking toe-tapper of an album.

It’s when the band has something more to say than “Let’s All Go to the Bar” that the poetry becomes worth anything at all.