Plenty of bands have hooks and good songs and retro-garage sounds, but none compares to The Strokes.

Every single song is an hummable masterpiece of pop experimentation.

Last Exit is a monumental debut... on par with It’s My Life or Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret.

Even though this compilation doesn’t rival any of the Pixies’ classic studio albums, it is still essential listening.

As difficult as it is gorgeous, Vespertine ranks among Bjork’s finest albums.

Not exactly radio friendly, The Woods explores sonic deconstruction a la Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix instead of the preciously catchy indie pop hooks you’ve come to expect.

Spoon rebounds from the insurmountable challenge of following up the colossally brilliant Girls Can Tell with an equally impeccable album.

It is the band’s most fully realized musical achievement.... A monumental album by a monumental band.

Late Registration... definitely mines familiar terrain, but West’s zeal for clever wordplay juxtaposed with his unflinching confidence makes for a charismatic and often electrifying punch.

The biggest problem with Hail to The Thief is its lack of surprise.

Take away the insane lyrics, and you’ve still got music worth listening to. Granted, it sounds like Journey being raped by Ronnie James Dio, but you have to admit that’s intriguing.

Sleater-Kinney’s weakest album in years.

OnOffOn is the aural resurrection of a band that still matters.

Gimme Fiction may not be your favorite Spoon record right now, but give it a few years.

Takk is sharper and more direct than anything the band has previously churned out, but that is not to say it’s by any means accessible by normal standards.

She’s clever and sharp with her lyrical daggers, and she’s frighteningly aware of the impact of her own voice.

By turns goofy, intellectual, and non-sequitur lyrics are indecipherable without the lyric sheet, but the strangely alluring charm of songs like "The Skin of My Country Yellow Teeth" will have you clamoring for more.

We Love Life trades Pulp's characteristic risk-taking for smooth accessibility, which works a gray, rainy day magic over the proceedings.

Once all the influences roll off your tongue, however, you’ll find yourself speechless before the excitement this album will invariably instigate.

This is arguably Idlewild’s finest hour.

!!! fuses the Tom Tom Club’s frivolous white-boy syncopation with ESG’s polyrhythmic propulsion to make your brain feel informed while your feet work very hard to embarrass you.

Think Tank is Blur’s most cerebral, wildly experimental album, ever.

The formula has barely changed, although there is a noticeable decline in songwriting quality.

Albarn’s ability to slither arrogantly from genre to genre while maintaining his charm is truly remarkable.

These songs will undoubtedly knock the wind out of you, but for every dynamic explosion or screeching wall of noise there’s a hook in tow.

The Blood Brothers pretty much have one speed: murder. This will tire even the most patient ears after about fifteen minutes, although, the album does show signs of expanded musical breadth with slower, albeit, brief melodic interludes and unconventional instrumentation (xylophones, toy pianos).

Low sounds fearless in its experimentation. Such personal intimacy juxtaposed with extremely haughty pretension could easily turn off listeners, but it’s all woven together so well that it’s hard to dismiss even the wrong turns.

The sonic consistency may bore fans thirsting for more of Cornelius’ spastic and unpredictable eclecticism, but the ensuing stereophonic experience is second to none.