Sonically, it's jaw-dropping, particularly on headphones: every cymbal splash and synth squiggle purr up-close and personal. But most of these 10 tracks are so subtle, they might drift past unnoticed if you're not listening hard enough.

On C.A.R., Cohn finds a loophole to get one of those rad concepts out of just that: a depressive who longs for suburban utopia.

Split over six fantastic-sounding CDs, these live recordings are a revelation, an aural document of the Doors and Morrison at their professional best.

Here you get an hour’s worth of top-notch disco-house jams crammed together into a non-stop megamix that emphasizes both the duo’s tune sense and their body-rocking beatcraft.

It's a gorgeous performance that anchors Mothertongue with its strength and solemnity.

Bloom is a sonic boomerang: resist if you must, but you'll inevitably end up right back where you started - sucked into their heavenly sonic utopia.

The good news is that Why There Are Mountains is polished and offers some strong songwriting while still leaving the band enough room to grow into something better.

Bibio's references may already be T-shirts in your bureau, and his dovetailing of crisp guitars, tangling melodies, smart electronic gestures, and resin-hit production values (all evident on the title track) isn't new by any means. But if you can get out from under caring (that is, if you can locate the title lane), you'll feel as liberated as Bibio sounds here — an artist making a mixtape of himself. Folk yes.

Costello’s flubbed lines are left intact and the album’s mixes can be wildly uneven, but missed perfections make for a pretty riveting whole.

Hundreds of Lions marks her return to original material, but it’s clear that the time she spent doing songs by yesterday’s greats inspired her: this is her smartest, slyest set yet, with shapelier melodies, wittier wordplay, and more-adventurous arrangements.

After the brilliant five-track sweep that opens Ritual Union, which peaks with the entrancing "Please Turn," Little Dragon take an unfortunate turn toward light experimentation and hard-nosed repetition, emphasizing pocket-sized click-clack rhythms and downplaying

These Nashville-based high ministers of retro-groove--known for their muscular live sermons--broaden their gospel on CD #2.

It can be tricky to pin down Parts & Labor's busy sound - it's noise pop that's not too noisy, or maybe post-punk that's cool with cracking a fat grin - but it almost always has something entertaining going on.

Family of Love is strong, with songs that suggest rather than demand, but nonetheless maintain Dom's glossy, candy-coated summertime sound.

Only the nuttiest of fans will find any new details (the more-present backing vocals on Agaetis Byrjun stunner "Svefn-g-englar," or the beefed-up church organ swirl in "Ny Batteri"), even if the band's live majesty is captured in full-force.

For the second time in 2006, Wu-Tang’s Ghostface has released an album that makes it seem everyone else in the hip-hop world should be paying more attention to Ghostface.

Modern Guilt is a hot thing of indefinite course.

Having put aside the gimmicky Atari-melting antics of yore, the Castles have created a dense-yet-airy thicket of pure pop transcendence.

With synth tones straight outta Miami Vice and dreamy melodies that cut through the fog-machine haze, Plastic Beach is music for piloting your speedboat beyond the no-wake zone, or for looking back from the future with a sentimental affinity for the past.

If you’re not in the mood for it, Perkins’s uncut melancholy can be a lot to swallow. Still, this is one of the prettiest bummers around.

But tempos that gait like a swinging pocket watch and Kozelek's drowsy, double-tracked voice make a strong case for a spellbinding kind of sublimity. This uncanny effect is even more pronounced on Admiral Fell Promises.

Temporal as a whole is evenly mastered and gratifyingly titanic.

Trees might be at its best when Moore gives into the freewheeling vibe that is the natural outgrowth of spending your adult life engaged in on-stage jam sessions.

Les Savy Fav's fifth studio album finds the veteran Brooklyn quintet further channeling the gonzo energy of their live show, and with winning results.

It is her most authoritative and cogent statement.

Lupe’s new sophomore disc, Lupe Fiasco’s The Cool (Atlantic), is way too long.

It’s now clear that though the District of Columbia might not have representation in the US Senate, residents do have a distinguished rep in hip-hop.

Whether he's in onomatopoetic punch-line mode or scratching the Cee Lo end of his terrific range, Monch is hip-hop's superlative talent, and now he has a solo stripe to prove it.