Mogwai’s nuanced focus is largely dependent upon the illusion of synthetic expansion rather than their trademarked barebones guitar-band meandering on Rave Tapes.

These are solidly constructed pop jams, sometimes introspective but never insular, occasionally caustic in a way that’s more resigned than snotty, and always smart but with an appreciation for the simple pleasures of a good rock song.

His debut may have taken a decade to gestate, but we’ll probably still be unpacking its innovative grooves in another.

On Made in the Dark, Hot Chip has stopped trying so hard to integrate the dance and bedroom sounds it loves, instead segregating them to eliminate the compromises of the ?rst two albums.

Overall, Witch Too mines Ono’s imaginative catalogue in search of hidden gems, buffing them up to sparkle anew. And ideally, the more inquisitive may even be moved to seek out the original versions of these tracks.

The Manchester Mope now pushes in the opposite direction, ratcheting up the distortion, muscling up on his vocals, and emphasizing live-in-the-studio energy over overdubbed perfection. In the process, he has rarely sounded so urgent.

Todd Snider's reputation as America's favorite alt-folk shit disturber remains firmly intact with the release of his newest album Agnostic Hymns and Stoner Fables.

More revelatory are Krauss’ splendid R&B turn on Little Milton’s 'Let Your Loss Be Your Lesson' and Plant’s Dr. John impersonation on Allen Toussaint’s 'Fortune Teller'--just two of the many eye-openers on this surprising, and surprisingly effective, collaboration.

Wilds is all killer and no filler, not taking itself all that seriously—instead, it opens up and gives us honest glimpses into how a relationship came together and failed, without forgetting to showcase the parts where hopeful sparks just never really had it in them to turn aflame in the first place.

It’s all over the place in the best possible way.

For the most part, Xscape honors [Jackson's] legacy and should help to relieve some of the mistrust that some may have with those in charge of the icon’s estate.

In this cultural moment where a soundtrack’s artistic credibility is measured by its ability to piggyback on the brilliance of James Mercer’s chord changes and/or Sam Beam’s whispery poeticism, Björk graciously peels back the firmament and reminds us that a good soundtrack bears the same responsibility as good cinema: to show us possibilities our dreaming minds couldn’t stitch together.

03/07-09/07 offers a well-rounded introduction to the charming High Places.

When each of the four guitarists is soloing and head banging and falling on his knees, their collective performance is both entertaining and engaging. In fact, the lines between show and sincerity blur on Turn To Gold, and that’s what makes the record a progressive step in the band’s career.

As a master wordsmith who believes in simplicity over all, he’s excavated the human heart, calloused pride and faltering dignity with a scalpel. On Picture, it’s all there.

Jackson is communicating her message with precise orchestration for optimal impact. As a listener, you may feel exposed, maybe even singled out.

Collett dispenses with the mundane conventions of the singer/songwriter genre as he forges portraits both intimate and worldly over engaging arrangements and lyrics. [Apr/May 2006, p.115]

The result is an ambitious album overflowing with generosity and empathy, warm in production and rich in theme, even if it largely lacks the punch that made Infinite Worlds so immediately memorable.

Draws as much from Madness as Joy Division. [Apr/May 2005, p.131]

Lyrically, The First Lady offers plenty of revelations.

The Rapture cannily sidesteps the perils of trying to live up to its own loaded legacy by excising punk from its sound and focusing on what it arguably does best: outsized, blindingly-polished pop that shakes hips like a vibrating belt. [Dec 2006, p.96]

Their music is overwhelming, but Irreversible Entanglements’ excellent second album, Who Sent You?, proves that it’s essential, too.

It is a beautiful record, and maybe a little over-simplified at its weakest moments, straddling that line between clean and bare.

Rae seems to be inspired by nature. Allusions to stars, constellations, skies and galaxies abound, elemental energies propelling her as she confronts new challenges and obstacles, and imagines new futures.

This isn’t just a great gospel album to hear in 2016; it’s also among the must-hear albums across the musical spectrum.

He’s definitely reflecting: these 12 songs parse grief and loss, and begin to consider the idea of mortality in a way Mould never has before.

In other words--even though the mood is more menacing than morose--it’s vintage Cave.

Saadiq has clearly turned a corner into an unpredictable headspace. His new edge, combined with his prodigious production and instrumental chops, bodes well as far as what might come next. And there’s a certain thrill in not knowing how much more outlandish his next move might be.

Though he recorded Adiós in the same sessions that yielded See You There, Campbell’s voice sounds better on this record: slightly aged, but still remarkably rich and surprisingly versatile.

Live Laugh Love is a refreshing outing from Chastity Belt, who are no doubt in top form, as the album arrives like the culmination of each member’s lifelong musical evolution taking the collective whole to new heights.

Though the atmosphere surrounding Giants of All Sizes is much heavier than on any of the band’s other records this decade, Garvey still finds some hope through it all. The final three songs (“My Trouble,” “On Deronda Road” and “Weightless”) are optimistic as he discovers strength in his loved ones and friends in the reverberation of all of the recent negative events in his life.

The album switches between grimy rockers (“Here Should Be My Home”) and come-down lullabies (“Things I Did When I Was Dead”) seemingly at random, but the fuzzy haze that hangs over each track holds the record together.

If her tough-minded 2005 debut presented her as a scion to her family’s legacy, then I Know You’re Married But I’ve Got Feelings Too portrays Wainwright as a distinctive artist with a caustic sense of humor and a complicated family situation.

Kisses on the Bottom is a winner from beginning to end.

In a place where post-Warhol art-as-disposability has turned into all Snooki/Britney/Lindsey/Khardashians all the time, Blondie strikes a blow for pop culture that's not stupid, wasted and empty.

While Wolf Parade may be dark and spastic, its updates on indie formula... are undeniably impressive. [Oct/Nov 2005, p.140]

Something so organic it should almost be unrepeatable. [Sep 2006, p.77]

Singer Gary Lightbody has a moody streak and a beautifully expressive voice, which sounds exquisite on the band’s newest record, A Hundred Million Suns.

Lanegan began speaking of this collaboration before a note had been recorded, and it plays out perfectly.

The Universal Want is about learning to live with desires we can never fully satisfy, accepting the highs and lows of a cyclical existence. Doves transcend time on The Universal Want, a graceful rebirth that not only justifies their reformation, but also serves as a reminder of the ability they had all along.

Given Worden’s skill as a vocalist and arranger, it seems My Brightest Diamond is at its best when Worden writes from a raw, wounded place.

Stay Gold features lush arrangements created by Nate Walcott and performed by members of the Omaha Symphony Orchestra. These layered sounds, so intricately woven to complement the sisters’ voices, create a completeness that realizes First Aid Kit’s musical maturity.

Antony flourishes like a rare orchid in a New York hothouse, brandishing his voice like so many delicate petals. [#14, p.120]

The instrumentation here is expectedly psychedelic, anchored in both freeform jams and trip-hop grooves. But somehow the collective makes the two opposing forces, which read like they were picked via pulling genres out of a hat, actually work thanks in no small part to Steven Drozd’s delicate instrumental blending.

Blunt and stubbornly engaging, it may be Mellencamp’s most candid effort in years.

Superwolf is Americana at its most grim. [Apr/May 2005, p.134]

It shows their talents as a band that can perform a vast array of songs and yet still manage to tie them all together.

The Dreamer is also an album that calls for multiple spins-it's not likely to grab listeners by the throat, or even kick them in the shins for that matter. It's just good.

If Honey was a backyard bonfire, the final fourth of it would be the kindling. These songs crackle sustaining life beneath the heavy branches waiting to burn, too.

About as accessible and smooth as this band is going to get. [Aug 2006, p.85]

Emotional Creature makes it clear Trifilio has a gift that’s not going anywhere. Keep an eye out for Beach Bunny on a phone near you.

Nothing is what it seems, and Lost coheres in this disorienting netherworld of drastic tempo changes, pachinko synths and 8-bit blips.

There’s something for everyone on Rozwell Kid’s new album, to be honest: It distills down a good two decades’ worth of guitar solos, pop hooks and wink-nudge lyricism into--well, would you look at that--a delightfully precious piece of art.

Small quibbles aside, I'll Never Get Out Of this World Alive is a solid addition to Steve Earle's impressive body of work that should satisfy both faithful and new listeners alike.

The sonic deviations may challenge fans who prefer that all of the band’s releases be a shade of “Yellow.” But more daring listeners will be relieved that Martin & Co. are exploring new territory.

While these eight new tunes are more straightforward than much of his work, that is not to suggest they are lacking in intricacy.

They make “tossed-off” and “slight” sound like the utmost virtues, and most of these songs sound like they were recorded in real time.

Throughout the disc, a dream band backs him up... providing rich atmosphere and detail to his songs. [#16, p.129]

With Sky Blue Sky, [Tweedy] reclaims the pop-rock potential he ?ashed on Being There and Summerteeth.

His first album in three years, the likable 22 Dreams, offers a handy overview of Weller’s interests.

It’s not the most high-profile roster. ... All the same, Mercer, Campbell, Upton and Seller are as compelling a lineup as Frog Eyes have had, and the foursome has made an album that exerts a powerful gravitational pull. While it’s a shame Violet Psalms is their farewell, it’s hard to imagine a more triumphant way to go.

It’s not a few hits padded out with rote genre exercises--it’s thematically consistent and maintains a high level of craftsmanship throughout. Dads and grads can both dig it.

This is the relentless effect of Full Communism: an album that makes you think, an album that urges you to take action, an album encompassed by an energy that cannot be summarized.

Brims with indulgent, bleary-eyed rock 'n' roll. [Oct/Nov 2005, p.129]

Where Stereolab's songwriting was tangential and detached, with lyrics arranged around the melody, Sadier's solo work is deeply reflective, her words at center stage.

There’s plenty here for diehards to dissect (Wilhelm scream, anyone?) but the album’s real draw is its outright appeal to those unversed in the band’s back catalog.

Reggae and spiritual self-improvement remain Matisyahu's foundation, but they're increasingly buried in the mix, allowing him to focus on his developing ear as a pop songwriter. Add in a few banjos, clarinets and a children's choir, and you've got an eclectic album that's unrepentantly over the top.

All this adds up to Beck’s darkest record to date, one that captures the uncertainty of 2008 as well as "Mellow Gold" distilled apathy in 1994.

Between the stylistic achievements that feel refreshing without over-referencing, the truly deadpan delivery on a coiled bed of noise, and (at last) some proper sequencing, Versions of Modern Performance is a smart record that prove Horsegirl to be the real deal.

Their songwriting is tight, their lyrics are brazen, smart and amusing, and they are at ease shifting through various indie styles. ... The duo often sound on Wet Leg as though their songs are intended primarily to entertain themselves, and each other. The rest of us are lucky to be along for the ride.

It's a hard, emotional record--certainly a good one.... But, in truth, after the lavish escapism of Funeral, Neon Bible does feel like a less stratospheric accomplishment. [Mar 2007, p.60]

Yes, New Seasons is more of the almost-same--a new season not so much in the sense of a completely fresh beginning, but rather the same old season coming ’round again, bringing familiar feelings, but offering new possibilities.

Triangulates the common ground between Luna, American Music Club and Red House Painters. [#14, p.105]

With analog recording, Hunter’s buttery voice and primitive Les Paul playing and a muscular double-sax section, this follow-up to "People Gonna Talk" re-renders the art of musical seduction even more convincingly than Hunter’s mentor Van Morrison.

Peanut Butter is an accomplished, confident and mature approach to a type of music indebted to teenage energy, a record that veers between styles of music that are often at odds with one another without ever feeling indecisive or confused.

The indie vets consolidate their talents, channeling the eclectic scope of their live shows into a 78-minute demonstration of control, confidence and imaginative songwriting. [Sep 2006, p.72]

Hitchcock deals with present-day anxiety whimsically rather than specifically, while Rawlings and Welch provide an uncharacteristic but fitting mise en scene with their solemn plucking and barely suggested grooves, which function much like the shadowy cross-hatching you see in Edward Gorey’s drawings.

While the approach feels more varied, more sonic, more introspective and imaginative, those familiar with Au Revoir Simone’s sound will have no trouble diving in.

Too much is just right on the third album from this Aussie (not Finnish) sextet.

Through it all, Johansson is just another instrument in the mix, and her willingness to allow the arrangements to transform Waits’ creaky intimacy into wide-eyed atmosphere ultimately results in the rare covers album that actually has its own identity.

Are You Serious will likely end up as the “Andrew Bird Grows Up” album, even if it annoys him. But there’s beauty in the honesty of that evolution.

TV on the Radio is that rare band able to simultaneously identify the pitfalls of modern life and offer a spiritual alternative... That the band does so with music that's at once readily accessible and refreshingly unique is simply the crowning touch. [Jun/Jul 2006, p.118]

Intimate and organic. [Sep 2006, p.74]

These songs wander, but they succeed because they enable us to wander, too. They encourage us to get lost.

These ambient drones might sound unfinished, but in their unhurried, unpretentious vibrations they capture the timeless yawning void of our current daily existence, the perennially narcotized blur of our homebound, shutdown society. (It’s also, um, great music to write to.) If you’re sympathetic to Yo La Tengo’s less formal and radio-friendly moments, you might respond well to this one.

While Sing Into My Mouth won’t likely make essential discography lists for either artists, this collaboration is an absolutely enjoyable and exciting listen full of new discoveries for fans of either band

Gomez has been transformed from a likable but shambling outfit into a focused pop-rock group while retaining the iconoclastic character that mad it intriguing to begin with. [Aug 2006, p.85]

Quietly brimming with lonesome, countrified folk-rock catharsis. [Dec 2005, p.104]

Tough but sugary, Expect Delays is an unhindered blast.

Havoc embodies relief, release and refuge.

The Decemberists’ first two records—Castaways and Cutouts and Her Majesty (both in 2003)—felt a touch spotty.... Picaresque trumps them both by dint of its focus, consistency and restraint.

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.

These 12 tracks encompass a broad swath of a timeless America, like old Carter Family tunes existing in the peaks and troughs of AM radio waves rolling endlessly over the miles.

It took a few listens for In Conflict to really hit, but, like a friendship that grows deeper with time, I can’t imagine not having the album around now.

This is not your standard-issue radio candy, and the strength of the track is the hypnotic reality of the beats and the way the Houston-born superstar's voice inhabits the track.

Working with producer Charlie Peacock, in spite of discord, the pair refine and expand the sound they architected into a more intense take on their tortured (implied) sexual tension.

It’s a record that often elevates the listener through its integrity and intensity, and sometimes grates through its failure to find the right music to express its complex lyrical sentiments.

Ultimately, Naomi doesn’t stray too far from The Cave Singers’ previous output, but she, like any good muse, will captivate, invigorate and satiate.