An excellent and memorable album.

Musically rich throughout, Everything and Nothing is a spotlight for Sylvian's stylish, Brian Ferry-inspired baritone, his fascination with eastern culture and spirituality and the beautiful orchestrations of songs like "God's Monkey", "I Surrender" and "Some Kind of Fool".

Dangerous Magical Noise is rock and roll at its pure, shaggy best. If you're tired of that, you're tired of life.

They now trade in a world of startlingly bleak, matte-black liquid-crystal experimental pop perfection pitched somewhere between John Cage's frightening austerity and the bittersweet squall of Swell Maps. Art-pop doesn't get any more accessible than this.

As good as Loss was (and make no mistake, it was very, very good), Us improves on it in virtually every way.

A discernibly West Coast-influenced affair, it's an album of anecdotal moments set to a glorious country-rock backdrop: graciously sun-kissed melodies, vocal harmonies, neat arrangements and refreshing, varied instrumentation.

Most [tracks] work quite well with the multifaceted rhythms and constantly evolving beats that make each of the tracks here a true expression of creativity.

Naturally, this much theatrical -- but never facetious -- pomp and prettiness can be heavy, but it's never overbearing. Surprisingly, given the album's gravitas, it's relatively easy to enjoy in a single sitting. And another after that.

Pig Lib is the kind of album you think about even when it's not on, that slowly develops for you and creates synapses and connections that maybe Malkmus never intended.

Totally brilliant, mind-meltingly good, and as different from Secret Wars as possible, except that both of these albums could change your life.

The Australian band's trademark winsome optimism, clever heartbreak and bittersweet cuteness are in classic form here, only lusher and more layered.

It lacks the freewheeling, go-for-broke gusto of its predecessors.

The band should be proud of Yanqui U.X.O. -- it proves that they're not hopelessly married to the fine-print details of their formula, and that they can still wring fresh ideas from familiar territory.

Every track on Hate surpasses the high standards set by its predecessor. Go buy it right now.

True to its title, The Slow Wonder is a much more relaxed and toned-down, yet no less complete listen than Electric Version or Mass Romantic.

Though the covers on American III will attract the majority of listener attention, Cash’s own material steals the show.

Pawn Shoppe Heart is the most electrifying album to have trawled its way out of the Detroit gutter in ages, effortlessly showing up [The White Stripes'] White Blood Cells in the process.

Other People has a serene, thoughtful loveliness that builds with every listen.

The most remarkable thing about Tournament of Hearts is that technically, it is the Constantines' slowest, jazziest, most countrified release to date, but it doesn't give an inch of intensity when it's compared to their self-titled debut or the landmark Shine a Light.

This might be the most varied record they've ever made.

There's a little something for everybody hidden within this mysterious box.

Unwieldy psychedelic dinosaurs like "First Wave Intact" and the title track hint that they're looking to become the new gods of bong-powered thunder -- but then they drop a bomb like the sleek, urbanely scoffing "Road Leads Where It's Led" and instantly re-cast themselves as black-clad top forty gatecrashers looking for a fast ticket to fortune and fame.

Nashville is further proof that Rouse is one of the best songwriters of his generation.

Aficionados of WGC's autumnal, melancholy sound will find this fifth full-length release comparable to the group's previous four, only more refined and maybe a little more assured.

You will love some or all of these ten tracks, but for reasons you don't quite understand, you may never love the album as a whole.

Outside Closer is maddeningly indirect, and the diminishing returns of its final minutes might make you wonder why you invested the time in the first place. But honestly, how many albums can claim to have so palpable an effect?

Despite the band's penchant for uneven electronic dirges, Out Of The Shadow is a very accessible work -- perhaps too accessible for indie enthusiasts who thrive on innovation and sonic exploration.

Its startling brand of dreamlike space-folk, while reminiscent of earlier efforts like Stereopathic Soul Manure, is a wholly unique venture.