The Besnard Lakes amp up the energy with a more guitar-driven approach on third album The Besnard Lakes Are the Roaring Night. But this added vigor doesn't distract from the rock band's more familiar fare of gentle vocal deliveries and downplayed drums.

It’s evocative and vivid, recalling early Red House Painters, or even The Blue Nile.

Produced by a handful of trusted Atlanta trap producers, DS2 is gothic, narcotic and full of overcast skies.

In New Orleans vernacular, Ya-Ka-May is a stew comprising various meats, green onions, noodles and a hard-boiled egg. This album may well be the musical counterpart of the dish for which it's named.

The younger act strikes a posture of ­winsome self-assurance across these 11 tracks.

Blue Neighbourhood features soft-touch synths and booming drum machines worthy of the next Lorde or Taylor Swift record.

The result is a lustful listen that often centers on either coming together or breaking apart.

At times, it's difficult to differentiate who is singing, thanks to masterful producing by Bright Eyes' Mogis. When viewed less as a hipster supergroup and more as an old-fashioned song swap, Monsters of Folk live up to their hype and then some.

Girls are poised to take their rightful place as one of the blog-crossover bands of 2009.

Last time around, on 2007's In Rainbows, the music was just as interesting as all of the hoopla surrounding the album's impromptu, pay-what-you-will release. The King of Limbs cannot boast the same.

The nine tracks Ronson produced on Arabia Mountain (Deerhunter's Lockett Pundt helmed two; Black Lips produced five) show he's equally adept at plundering the garage, psych and punk treasure troves.

An old-fashioned countrypolitan album-and a really good one at that.

On Lazaretto, White rummages through his cart and emerges with fiddles, organs, slide guitars, and fuzz boxes powered by hand-cranked generators. And is that a leftover plate of Ennio Morricone's Western spaghetti? Indeed, it is, and if it all adds up to a better album than his debut, "Blunderbuss."

The result is an album that doesn't quite reach the heights of Vessel, but nevertheless serves as evidence that one of pop's most daring duos isn't about to slow down--even if that means running into a few walls.

While's new band Punch Brothers is building a case for bigger fame with the release of its second album, Antifogmatic.

The surprise on the set is how well the new music holds up against the vintage material.

Johnston delivers another album of nuanced and evocative tunes laced with vivid imagery and emotional depth.

You can question its originality, but the music hits hard.

Her lyrics feel like they're whispered directly into the ear; her guitar playing (the only accompaniment aside from the occasional flute) is even more meticulous. But the true leap is in the set's many quietly arresting moments.

Motion City Soundtrack's smart-aleck tendencies combine nicely with a harder sound on My Dinosaur Life, pushing the band back to its roots with enough twist to propel it in a new direction.

As an ode to nuptial bliss, the album is both ­convincing and surprisingly coquettish.

This album is one that begs to be lived with for a long period of time, its quiet details given ample room to germinate.

Overall, another solid effort from one of country's finest.

With Father, Son, Holy Ghost, the band has vaulted the equivalent of three albums ahead, taking the conciseness of the EP and confounding expectations.

The whole album has a pleasurable mix of lean, mean rock'n'roll and pensive ballads that reflect both the state of the world and the band's place in it.

In addition to Rubin's typically austere moods, the set features an all-star core of musicians (including members of the Avett Brothers) and Cash's tasteful renditions of the title track, Kris Kristofferson's "For the Good Times," Sheryl Crow's "Redemption Day," Tom Paxton's "Where I'm Bound" and Bob Nolan's "Cool Water."

On the new collection Williams is sharp-tongued, wide-eyed and warm-hearted as she blends domestic bliss with her usual propensity toward the dark and mournful.

He makes up for the lack of addictive anthems and playfulness with his impressionable stream of sentiments--our kryptonite, his superpower.