At times, Seasons threatens to collapse under the weight of so much pathos, but thanks to her singular voice and eccentric songwriting, Brun makes extreme heartache sound particularly inspired.

[An album] for those expecting (and experiencing) heartbreak at every turn.

On Broken Equipment, BODEGA don’t sugar-coat the intoxicating feeling New York can create when it gets into your blood. If you can survive the constant rent hikes, shady practices from shifty landlords, collapsing infrastructure, and a cyclical reshuffling of artistic epicenters and neighborhood fixtures, it’s an adrenaline high worth building a life around. This one’s for the ones able to hang on.

Kykeon is a tripped-out and sometimes intense experience--able to pull even the most rigid listener into the incense-perfumed darkness.

Marble Skies is at its best, however, where Django Django pushes outward hardest and farthest--in two very different directions. On one end there’s “Sundials,” a beautiful ballad built atop a zig-zagging piano line that lifts the technical wizard’s hat off this band, offering a clear look at the human beings beneath. (The song’s jazzy, harmony-heavy coda is a delight, too.) On the other end is “Surface to Air,” a concoction of humid pop, hiccupping beats and guest vocals by Rebecca Taylor of the British band Slow Club.

The Orb are deep in their own pocket here and welcome all to join them in their warm depths. Whether anyone will heed their call after all this time remains to be seen.

Television embodies the sound of the African future while simultaneously nodding over its shoulder at the pain, joy, suffering and beauty of the continent’s past.

Recalibrated as a looser, more energetic band, The Helio Sequence has created a euphoric, career-defining album.

Potter’s roar makes every song worth listening to, even if each one more or less preaches the same point—something along the lines of “All you need is love.” But there’s an argument to be made for singing about love frankly.

Everyday Life lives between the stripped-down comfort of Ghost Stories and the mercurial nature of Viva La Vida, but most importantly, it provides more hope than ever that they have another masterpiece in them.

For as much as her acolytes wish they could twirl in chiffon scarves and platforms, few remain as ageless or beyond the clock as Nicks; in that gap ripples the nostalgia that stains these songs.

What’s particularly striking here is how Rose matches credence with confidence. Her voice, a gentle and unassuming croon, gives her material a quiet caress, making them effortlessly engaging each time out.

Dying Star is a very impressive effort from Kelly, a heretofore little-known Nashville singer-songwriter with a perfectly fine-grit voice and a gift for pairing heavy lyrics with remarkably graceful melodies. Evidence of both appears all over the album, revealing an artist who is not only ready for a slice of the spotlight, but also capable of his own crossover someday.

Now more than ever, the escapist quality of music cannot be underestimated. Little Dragon heartily delivers on that front throughout New Me, Same Us, opening the door to a candy-colored world where the beats are chill and every word is sung softly by Nagano.

Power Chords is much more lyrically mature and musically adept than your average garage rock record, and its teenage sheen might urge you to fanatically scroll the lyrics on your notebook or bedroom wall of choice.

Their sheer retro enthusiasm compensates for the music's derivativeness--for some of the tracks at least. [Aug/Sep 2005, p.111]

Tomorrow’s Hits, is almost unfairly possessive of a foretelling title, seeing as how vanilla some of the songs can come off sounding. The record, however, is an accurate chronology of a working band’s prolific devotion to feeding the muse.

None of the 11 tracks need skipping in this solid entry to the crew's discography. Fujiya & Miyagi have handcrafted another installment in their ongoing British beach dance party.

Consistent and authentic throughout, Pokey LaFarge is an essential new record for anyone who appreciates old sounds.

The charm of the band's guitar work sometimes gets lost in the middle of C.U.B.A.'s added instrumentation.

Curve of the Earth isn’t a complete rebound--there are too many fumbles, too many eye-rolls. But in its fits of brilliance, Mystery Jets reclaim their throne as rock’s savviest copycats.

As the poetic nature of her lyricism evolves, it makes future albums and EPs even more promising. Hopefully, the singer will experiment even further with more rich and upbeat tunes that will heighten the dynamism of her already-indelible voice.

Chocked with perspectives, inexpensive times and homegrown storytelling, Women & Work is the perfect album for when you're on your way to a family reunion and hoping your country family will be appreciative of your taste in music.

His voice proves his best instrument, which doesn’t make him any different from other earnest strummers out there. It does, however, invest these songs with a distinctively twilit poignancy.

While they did gain immediacy and a hint of their earlier punk energy, this is still some of the most densely constructed art-rock you're likely to hear all year, which only makes the quick process even more impressive.

The album is overflowing with upbeat, Americana gems.

When Gibbard gets out of his own head, the confrontation between his tuneful optimism and the real world can yield an exhilarating dramatic tension.

Desperate Ground is easily the best Thermals record since The Body, The Blood, The Machine.