There's no denying that Pollock has an uncanny knack for distinctive melodies, but the album's main problem is that she often misjudges the parameters of 'pop' and in doing so errs on the side of safety.

I don’t like it. I don’t hate it. And that’s the truth exactly.

Parts of Good Bad Not Evil have some fascinating sonic touches.

If you can get past all the arch pretension, When the Deer Wore Blue rewards you with plenty of tunes.

A bit jumbled together and disorienting, but overall just about as rejuvenating as anything.

I Created Disco is a fun and mostly very listenable pop record which satisfies the modest ambitions it sets for itself.

The album has a smooth flow, using careful production and consistent guitar tones to blend the different musical influences and varied performances into a piece.

If Liars have reached the post-masterpiece phase of their career where they hone their craft to a needle’s point, Liars is an absolutely brilliant jump-off.

None Shall Pass may or may not be the best album in Aesop Rock’s discography, but it might be the most fun to listen to. Call it his San Francisco Renaissance.

That vocal in 'The Kill Tone Two' is unfortunate, because the rest of the album approaches some spectacular peaks.

The tenderfooted wandering of the We Are Him’s final third make it less compelling than its flagellating first half but have patience; Gira always gets there.

The little things are annoying, of course, like the “that'll do” pointless pop culture punnery namedrops that litter (“Starz in Their Eyes”/”Alicia Quays”), or the way they take up so much time with vocal samples from (old documentaries/self-help tapes) in the same way that a struggling student quotes increasingly large and irrelevant passages of text in a desperate attempt to meet a word count.

The band is still fun, successfully completing their transition from cutesy electro-Baroque to a twee-funk sensation.

In a voice that shifts from pout to growl in a beat’s time, M.I.A.'s verses and hooks are as mercurial in tone as the backing tracks.

Challengers certainly gets tastier after you’ve chewed on it for a bit.

The one thing you can't accuse Under the Blacklight of is being boring, but it abides by an either/or sort of mentality that presumes that a complete lack of substance is the only alternative to the kind of music Rilo Kiley and their pals made in 2002.

Snaith’s newest album, Andorra, merges "Milk’s" heady sense of immediacy with a clear and consumable swiftness.

Expecting two brilliant albums in a row is a lot, but when flashes of This Delicate Thing We’ve Made indicate he’s more than up to delivering, you get disappointed when there’s so much well-intentioned but patience-shredding filler between the gems.

Props for being candidly happier, but as is often the case with bands with ten-plus-years of solid material, Earlimart’s newest release serves us better as an unwitting PR campaign for the rest of their oeuvre.

The disc succeeds by merging a unity of sounds with a complex variety of emotions.

Natural is their prettiest album; in spots it's almost pastoral.

Planet of Ice's cerebrally structured songs pull in too many directions to pack a proper punch.

Hey Hey is an impressively cohesive collection of pop songs.

As it is, this record goes down really well on its own.

This album comes in a neat package: well-guarded and wry, artists competently displaying their hard-earned skill. It's all very professional, but no more meaningful than the titular appellations, the smile of a persona.

I don't have the conscience to recommend Sojourner to the uninitiated, but as a document of what Molina acolytes already suffer, it's essential.

This is a staggering debut with layers of errant, mystical roars born from man’s relationship between his guitar, a chord, and a speaker.

In the act of making himself more accessible, Common’s verbal skills have slid into disrepair.