The album traverses Ray Charles-like country soul, smoky late-night jazz, lush Western swing, and even a bit of Rockpile-style rockabilly.

The result is Vile's best record to date, an idiosyncratic amalgam of intimate performance and communal expression - and one that continues to reveal new layers upon repeated listens.

Like her heroes before her, B.B. King included, Raitt is clearly in it for the long haul, and not content to rely on past glory. Instead, she wisely digs Deep and her listeners are the better for it.

The striking thing about Justin Townes Earle's new record is the variety of styles it visits in just over 30 minutes. Just as striking, this variety doesn't come across as dabbling or disparity.

This album isn't for everyone, but it's as open-hearted and grittily triumphant as any you'll hear this year.

It’s an accomplished, enjoyable record from start to finish, regardless of references or lineage.

Recorded in five days with producer Four Tet and musical duo RocketNumberNine, the disc maintains a raw, improvisatory feel.

This isn’t complicated, just tasty, and performed with wit and expertise.

Hunter keeps on doing what he does, and on Hold On! he’s doing it as well as he ever has.

A collection of songs that proves nearly as personal, as socially aware, and as deft at intertwining the two, as was Pulp’s 1998 opus, ‘‘This Is Hardcore.’’

The disc exudes confidence on every front, though the group’s ambitions seem scaled up to world domination.

Solo is Iyer's grand statement, and with it he has fulfilled his promise.

While Waylon's shadow will remain a constant companion, the younger Jennings continues to prove that he's a great shot in his own right.

It’s a brave account of how you can fall out of love just as easily as you fell in. Like the first blush of a new romance, it is intoxicating.

By midway through the album’s opening title track — its rolling banjo, accordion, and bagpipes atop raging punk chords as Al Barr and Ken Casey stake out an us-versus-them ethos — they’ve practically ionized every molecule in the listener’s body until all that’s left is the rush that the band intended. Although it may be schtick, it’s a really good schtick, and the Murphys are damn good at it.

The Next Day offers many sides of a multifaceted artist and almost all of them mesmerizing, as the songs grow richer with each listen.

It marks the centennial of Guthrie's birth and is a fitting tribute.

[Banga] is a classic Patti Smith album in that it mixes pop panache with punk sensibilities and poetic ruminations.

Whereas second LP “You’re Gonna Miss It All” delivered Facebook rants from a self-pitying underclassman, Holy Ghost is the hard-charging graduation speech.

They wend through minimalist pinwheeling (“The sun roars into view”) and pared-down funk (“The rest of us”) to reach the title track’s Renaissance-motet epiphany, their odyssey made relatable through the grit, breath, and song that permeate their enchanting chronicle.

For a few tracks, like "Magic Chords," her sound starts becoming a trap for a song that never quite coalesces. But the flip side is "All I Can," which reveals a streak of slow-build adult pop craft that's kept under wraps for much of the album.

Cue up any of the songs on Nashville and you hear the sound of Stuart's mission being fulfilled.

Common Ground has the pluck and swing of a porch pickin’ party, with the Alvins swapping licks and vocals on a number of Broonzy classics.

The Weight of These Wings matches the take-no-prisoners attitude of her lyrics with music that travels unexpected routes but often winds up touching the soul.

With her lovely, expressive voice, she finds the truths at the core of each song, making this one of the early year’s breakthroughs.

The songs are bigger, the production is bolder, and Hop Along is more confident than ever, expertly weaving fresh, unexpected elements into its sound.

Spare and quirky, like a dub remix of some forgotten 1980s Top 40 hit, it slowly, repeatedly builds to a swooping chorus all the more melodious for its relative rarity.

The songs are meatier and dimensional, emboldened by whirling electronics, taut guitar solos, harder drums, disparate textures and moods, and a lyrical self-awareness that perhaps life isn't just one big basement dance party.