Overall, though, Days is a great sophomore album and solid evidence that Real Estate is growing and ready to settle in for the long haul.

The Orchard is the sound of Ra Ra Riot hitting for the middle, delivering 10 tracks of deliberate orchestral-tinged indie-pop that'll hit you in your 2007-era blog-rock pleasure center.

For the Whole World to See is not the true revelation the label wants you to think it is but it has some catchy melodies and delivers them at breakneck speeds.

The band's accomplishment on Fear Is on Our Side is that no matter what direction the song goes, the journey is always worth it, the ending is a satisfying resolution.

The Cardigans probably still won't shake the one-hit-wonder reputation... but Super Extra Gravity proves that the group deserves more respect than that.

A tight, orderly marriage of the pastoral and the psychotropic -- plenty precise, but short on soul.

On Real Close Ones, the M’s sound like a slightly older version of the band that made their first album. Sure they’re really good, but they're too pensive to make the step up to the big leagues.

No Better Time Than Now is close to a great album, but it's flawed in its existence to experiment, ultimately experimenting a little too far.

The fifteen-song album may have two or three cuts too many, but the core of The Big Bang... is some pretty damn good hip-hop

Liver! Lung! FR! is a solid album--it was just better six months ago.

An album full of majestic pop tunes in their absolute truest form.

Under the Blacklight is at once more ethereal that anything Rilo Kiley has ever managed previously.

[Producer Paul] Epworth's accomplishment is obvious throughout the record. Having remixed some of today's indie-elite, infusing garage rock riffs with electro elements, he knows the importance of dance-floor accessibility and brings out all the shadows and contrasts that make Kick the accomplishment it is.

It’s noisy, it’s incoherent at times, but above all it’s a joyous record that's totally Neil Hagerty: inaccessibly accessible.

A valiant attempt to combine varying disciplines of Eastern music with neo-psychedelia, Aufheben is a pleasant listen.

Ferrari Boyz often sounds like a Waka Flocka solo disc that features Gucci Mane on every single song. Between the duo, Waka's lines tend to be the ones that stick with you the most.

Their tics are still here--just listen to how they build the payoff of “Nova Leigh” from a variety of angles--they just aren’t the exciting focal point anymore. That’s probably better in the long run for the band, who have all quit school to rep Born Ruffians full-time, but doesn’t lead Say It to the mountaintop it could have shared with Red, Yellow and Blue.

Yes, the Sounds' music starts to blur together, but what a blur.

What's missing is the meditative joy they achieved in their rockier moments.

Dismania makes for an altogether appropriate title for an album this interested in gathering the common ingredients of despair, anger and disaffection.

The album relies less on hooks and more on a sparse energy, but the listening is engaging enough to keep the listener around to the end, focusing more on cohesion rather than theatrics.

For those interested in a group that still finds ways to take Krautrock down several roads, Circles more than succeeds.

It's a distinct type of pop that could become truly memorable when he actually sits down to compose a full album.

Vile seems to find his best inspiration in the album's valleys rather than its peaks.

There may be moments of repetition that indicate a bit a creative bankruptcy, and even for an EP this is perhaps all too brief an outing. However, Behave Yourself easily topples most of Cold War Kids' previous endeavors.

Mastered by Nilesh Patel (Daft Punk, Depeche Mode), Robotique Majestique has the Austin-based Ghostland Observatory throwing down a solid, synth-heavy version of their stateside electro-punk, making their third release less guitar influenced than the occasional rock moments of "Paparazzi Lightning" (the duo's 2006 debut) and 2007's "Delete. Delete. I. Eat. Meat."

This is a solid listen regardless of whether or not it's breaking any new ground.

When The Virgins are paying homage to their New York forefathers in terms of their aesthetic and lyrical content, they have trouble distinguishing themselves from the Jets of the world.