Nothing on Fall Be Kind sounds like b-side fodder, and one song, “What Would I Want? Sky”, is already canon bound.

An already terrific disc is put over the top by a handful of tour de forces.

<A HREF="http://popmatters.com/music/reviews/s/spoon-gimmefiction.shtml" TARGET="_blank">Review #1:</A> The sound of Gimme Fiction is as ideal a conceptualization of the band as could be imagined. [score=100]; <A HREF="http://popmatters.com/music/reviews/s/spoon-gimmefiction2.shtml" TARGET="_blank">Review #2:</A> "Gimme Fiction" has a sense of mischief and curiosity that renders it more consistently varied and just plain more listenable than "Moonlight". [score=80]

Blood Bitch is a record that doesn’t try to be anything. Whereas Apocalypse, Girl was contrived and Viscera was uneventful, this record is dreamy and memorable, both through its illusion of simplicity and its gentle invitation to listeners.

Feels is a highly rewarding journey into pop music's most primal, earthy, esoteric and ultimately beautiful places. And it's unlike anything else you will hear this year.

Like Cash, Moorer vocally can inhabit different genres and help you believe each has a necessary magic. Taken all together, these songs make Down to Believing a deeply moving listen.

Alpha Mike Foxtrot is a fascinating, and remarkably consistent, look at how Wilco has refused to define itself.

Cash is an expert detailer who doesn’t pander to navel gazing, and was somehow able to produce a detached, yet emotional response to her grief.

With so much to unpack, Western Stars grows more satisfying with repeated exposure. Deeply moving, inventive and even a bit risky, Western Stars will take its place among Springsteen's solo gems.

The best stuff here isn't all that tough to love, however.

As a sonic experience, Yeezus isn’t as dangerous as it likes to think it is, but it’s certainly the epic banger Kanye’s worried he didn’t have in him since he first ran to Timbaland to help beef up his drum sounds on Graduation.

The Window is the recording of this singer most likely to haunt you rather than just blow you away.

The album that Pink Floyd made in 1979 marked a milestone in progressive rock, and this box set captures everything perfect and imperfect about the album.

Wildheart is the sound of Miguel fully coming into his own identity. Now, we just have to wait for him to do something with it.

Nelson co-wrote all 11 songs on the album with its producer Buddy Cannon. Cannon keeps the sound clean. One can distinguish each of the instruments on every song. Nelson writes in a variety of styles such as Western Swing, country waltz, honky tonk and other traditional Texas genres. He's joined by top-notch musicians. ... Last Man Standing suggests Nelson has no intention of slowing down.

Gentle Confrontation has moments that feel like they can fit in the palm of your hand; just as often, it calls for total immersion. Longing builds to tender catharsis, loss to acceptance. Loraine James plunges into open water and keeps going deeper, charting an evanescent path and dwelling in every electric step of the journey.

Despite its shifts in style, Countless Branches is cohesive in terms of both sound and subject matter.

Fresh and familiar is a consistent hallmark of the Austin band, and Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga proves to be no exception.

Sometimes the Blues Is Just a Passing Bird is still the sound of a man who's totally comfortable in his own skin. You're also likely to find great comfort across these five tracks.

Symphony of Sorrowful Songs is vital listening. The collaboration between Gibbons, the Polish National Radio Symphony Orchestra, and Maestro Penderecki endows the human spirit with palpability while manifesting sorrow's pervasiveness.

Teasing out musical abundance from simple instrumentation, lyrics, and vocals, Pratt concertizes complexity and nuance. Quiet Signs is a staggering work of hushed beauty.

As much as Devotion remains Ware's Magnum Opus. What's Your Pleasure is a clear statement of intent, with a lot of quality.

They managed to mask their eclectic influences and occasionally clichéd ideas behind a loud, bold, excessive sound, spectacular visuals, and provocative lyrics about “candle wax melting in my veins”.

Takk... is in no way a departure for the band, and it's easy to forget that though the music is very different from most of what's out there, we've heard it from Sigur Rós before.

It’s better than much of what has come out thus far this year.

Cronin is never changing the pace or tone just for the heck of it, rather seeking out different ways for him to push himself as an artist, as some of the cross-references on MCII would suggest.

The album is saved from clich&#233; and pretension by its combination of a fascinating story with restrained and consistently inventive musical backing.

The Black Album turns out to be... a surprisingly meticulously constructed coda to Jay-Z's extensive and prosperous career.

Across its ten tracks and 47-minute runtime, Moran collaborates with herself, instead, using a Disklavier – a modified Synclavier similar to an updated player piano – to create poignant, evocative, soul-searching post-minimalist piano sketches.

The Worse Things Get is another excellent album from Case on a resumé that’s full of excellent albums.

The album remains strangely compelling if slightly bloodless, a fascinating conceptual leap into unknown territory that loses little importance for its status as an essentially inchoate entity.

While Rossen’s debut may not always soothe its listeners, as the 2012 release Silent Hour/Golden Mile EP might have done, You Belong There is a solo record worthy of much praise and admiration.

She spends this excellent album distorting and blowing out those folk textures, sometimes with control of aural space, sometimes with thick and tangles musical arrangements. The breadth of sounds here now matches the hairpin turns her voice can take, and these songs take full advantage of these new musical roads.

Cardi B has proved herself to be someone not to mess with in the rap game, and it's exciting to see her at the top of her game on Invasion of Privacy.

An artist of ample prowess, Salim Nourallah can take pride in yet another in a line of outstanding efforts.

There is a distinct symmetry to the album with the effectiveness of the more urgent first half benefitting from the more ambient, immersive second, on an album that begs to be heard as a unified whole.

Though the sounds can be thin, the atmosphere is thick and evocative.

Alvin sounds like he is having fun, even when he's singing a sad song. He's a true troubadour, in the best sense of the word.

The album is a classy, low-key affair, with solid, tasteful arrangements designed to show off the singers and the songs.

Anima seems by some distance to be Yorke's strongest solo work, and its musical content is oddly and paradoxically invigorating, in contrast to its persistently anomic lyrics. This dynamic is a key component of what makes the album succeed.

Sparkle Hard slips out of twisting plot traps as nonchalantly as it slides around rigid logic. The characteristics that have kept his music with the Jicks since the early 2000s one of indie rock's more subtle but steady pleasures haven't faded in the least, and Sparkle Hard finds them at their brightest concentration.

Their songs are evocative in ways music seldom is; you can feel the heat in their voices, picture the haze coming off the desert horizon, hear the dust getting into their microphones, their amps, under the strings of their guitar, slowly working its way into the sound itself.

While the sound of this record is different from previous releases, it is only ever-so-subtly-so—and it just might be better.

The Breeders have released the rock album of the year so far.

The songs are a dialogue of fuzz bass and searching guitar notes with the contours barely sketched in by the drums. Minimalism packs a mean punch; True Widow gets you in the gut.

Absent an infectious melody and accompaniment that establishes rhythmic and/or ambient contrast, her voice tends to grow monotonous and disengaging. But when the aesthetic balances are in place, as they are for much of Sometimes, Forever, then Allison glows like a moon reflecting a dying sun, one of the substantial artists of her generation.

Despite these intriguing connections between words, music, and the band’s history, Low’s commitment to an ebb-and-flow sound is both HEY WHAT‘s primary signature and chief shortcoming.

Rips actually ends up adding to her reputation precisely because she performs like she’s got nothing left to prove or lose with it.

The dance-inspired elements he throws in on Listening to Pictures don't suddenly mean his work's going to be on sale in the "electronic" racks of record stores. It's just another ingredient in a slow-simmering pot.

Carry Fire is an excellent example of a legendary rock star who no longer needs to prove anything yet still refuses to phone it in.

The answer is there is no answer until perhaps it is too late. He’s not the first person to come to that conclusion. The value of Simon’s record lies in its pondering of life’s mysteries.

The record is more acoustic than any of Rogers’ previous work in a way that feels welcome and refreshing rather than an erasure of her first two albums as inauthentic. Rogers’ vocal and performance abilities may recall musicians of decades past, but she is still very much a product of her time.

Granted, the Lips can still be innovative, but for perhaps the first time in their storied career, their creativity feels familiar and predictable.

For the other ten of the dozen tracks, Chambers takes on a more adult persona and sings with a deeper voice about heavier subjects, even when her lyrics get cheeky.

Yes, the album is impressive. But without much depth beyond its own self-absorption, it doesn't come on as strong as it thinks it does.

We all need to feel something to be inspired, to create, and to continue putting one foot in front of the other. With his fourth studio album, Adam Lambert is finally taking a step in the right direction.

It’s fun as well as sentimental. And that voice, now exposed a bit by age but strangely strong and capable of holding the spotlight: it is telling stories that make you feel things. Therefore, let’s hope for more after all.

These cuts may be little more than glorified home recordings, but they are more than charming.

Ghosts of the Great Highway represents an expansive, continent-traversing narrative that evokes the literary style of John Steinbeck and the vivid imagery of everyday American life captured in the watercolors of Edward Hopper.

Without making any major alterations to their blueprint for music making, Super Furry Animals have nonetheless found a fresh and vibrant new corner of their odd little niche.

Imagin[e] the Beach Boys getting strung out in a field on cider midmorning in some alternative universe Texas, surrounded by retro-sounding DIY synths, a raggedy brass section, and a hippy cello player.

From the Ages is not just the latest album from this long running band. It’s their best.

If you’re a lapsed Dickhead, Sweet Warrior would make for a great reintroduction to Richard Thompson. Likewise, should you require only one RT album per decade, this disc may well stand as his best of the 2000s.

There are, however, occasional stumbles that suggest that some lessons cannot be learned quickly, and that melody is an essential component of their sound that needs more attention. For now, though, this is much better.

With his latest jewel, Staples mines an artistic, existential, and notably fertile limbo.

By tweaking the sound of his previous record, adding wisely chosen collaborators, and not trying to totally revolutionize what was already working quite well, Snaith has created one of the most enjoyable, crowd pleasing records of the year.

A satisfying diversion in the flow of two styles of classic music previously at odds with one another.

While worthy of dissertations in multiple academic disciplines, one need not require a degree to appreciate Dream All Over. The peerless Gun Outfit maps out its own musical cartography.

As a collection of rock songs, it is deadly on the mark, a bulls-eye, a shot of sunshine and bourbon to your gut. It takes its place as the year’s most glowing record of despair, and joy? And as Juliana Hatfield’s best album.

The arrangements are deceptively simple and allow McKenna lots of open space to express herself. Cobb understands the sophisticated musical rhetoric of appearing effortless. McKenna tosses off the lyrics as if she's just singing to a friend. She impresses by not trying to impress.

Set against a rich, ethereal backdrop, it’s a mature, moody debut, the type that makes one hope Stith will choose to linger on the music scene for some time to come.

Brown and Amos have intelligence to burn. Everyone’s Crushed soundtracks our present frenzied moment in new ways, portending a mutual future neither bright nor grim but, like this band, is inescapably singular.

Even without knowing anything about Basinski himself or the climate in which he’s created his work, the listener herself would still be able to create their own world around it, such is the power of his music.

Brilliant, shimmering and wonderfully composed, Winter Hymn Country Hymn Secret Hymn is one of the best albums of year, and the best album GY!BE have never released.

When Yoko isn't channeling Wilco, it calls to mind another giant on the American indie rock scene: Spoon.

There’s several superlatives that could embellish Get Off on the Pain: contender for year’s end best of list, insightful and rare look into a singer’s psyche, a collection of top-grade Country music or soulful purging. All of them apply, and then some.

Even the best pop of Lerche’s career pre-Please rarely strayed outside of the lines; with Please and now Pleasure, he prefers the vibrant color splatter of a Pollack. There’s no doubt that Pleasure is a bit of a mess, but it’s the kind of mess worth getting lost in.

The Shepherd’s Dog is the most successful merger yet of Beam’s meticulously constructed songs with adventurous arrangements that move further and enthusiastically away from the band’s pious beginnings.

She is constantly connected, consciously or not, with more rooted folk forms, from Ghanaian Ewe drumming and dance to Haitian funereal brass bands. Her results sound like none of that, but somewhere, underneath the layers of beats and snippets of melody, she tosses off like corn husks, dwells fossils, and bones with stories to tell us.

Take Me Apart is genuinely an album without low points, striking a balance between the allure of mainstream pop and the inventiveness of its fringes.

<A HREF="http://www.popmatters.com/music/reviews/d/deathcabforcutie-transatlanticism.shtml" TARGET="_blank">This album is a beautiful trek through time that pays tribute to the human condition with simple melodies and honest storytelling, a nearly perfect pop record.</A> [Review 1, Score: 100] <A HREF="http://www.popmatters.com/music/reviews/d/deathcabforcutie-transatlanticism2.shtml" TARGET="_blank">For old-school Death Cab supporters, it's gut-check time: Did you like these guys for their "rock" or their "indie"? While the secret is out, the music is still too emotionally honest and infectiously witty to hold at a distance.</A> [Review 2, Score: 80]

More than a patchy but occasionally brilliant album, Multiply is the whisper that the greatest soul music, rather than being trapped in our memories of times gone by, may yet play free in days to come.

While it's probably his most willfully experimental album to date, his soft, distinctive vocals flow through every track, binding the whole thing together.

By continuing to do what he does best, Dwight Yoakam, with Second Hand Heart, adds yet another excellent album to his nearly flawless catalog.

Electric finds a reenergised Pet Shop Boys’ still masterful in the dark art of crafting ‘smart-bomb’ dancefloor bangers.

Aurora does not disappoint; it continues Ben Frost’s resume as one of the most fascinating experimental musicians in the world.

Whether Raw Silk Uncut Wood is the precursor to a forthcoming ambient full-length or just another stint of experimentation, Laurel Halo continues to break expectations in the most bemusing way. The mini-album is a beautiful practice of minimalism that also maintains her intricate perspective.

The boygenius EP marks a stunning release from three singular artists. Hearing them integrate their particular gifts would be worth a listen alone, but the performances are so remarkable that the disc's background becomes trivial.

For those who have been gripped or at least mildly interested by the band’s progression over its first two LPs will find Modern Vampires of the City to be an expansive, illustrious work that--while clearly a 21st century recording--is a reminder of the gift musicians have to leave the door in one decade and come back in another.

Grande has produced some of her best work to date.

While all of this is promising, and illustrates that Clap Your Hands Say Yeah likely has a very bright career ahead of them, they're only just getting started.

We Love Life is an album that trades the group's tongue-in-cheek gimmicks and satirical savvy for a mode of pensive moderation and subtle telling.

Throughout Send, Wire strike the right compromise, pushing their songs to brink of chaos without ever allowing them to disintegrate.

While the first album broods, the 11 songs on this disc are mostly smooth and flowing.

Asunder, Sweet and Other Distress is, without a doubt, and seemingly with all intention, their most immediate record to date.

The brilliance of El Camino lies in the fact that it is still perfectly modern, a step in the direction of legitimizing the use of vocal effects, multi-tracking and ultimately catchy choruses.

The first five cuts on Beauty & Crime are absolutely gorgeous--near and sheer perfection.... The remaining songs, while enjoyable and meeting Ms. Vega’s usually high lyrical standards, don’t gel quite as smoothly.

Obviously, though, the greatness of this record goes beyond its transitions and production “tricks.” Aside from the aforementioned standout “Xcalibur”, Ethiopium is brimming with repeat-worthy cuts.