As a follow-up to 2010's sinister compilation Delicacies, Unpatterns stands decidedly in a shadow.

Vows is a step ahead of your average candy-coated pop. [#48]

Worst-case scenario: that initial dreamlike spell wears out its welcome long before the album's 38 minutes are up. Best case: you've had a stressful day and True really hits that sweet, relaxing spot.

If you're looking for the quartet's usual twist in its sobriety, there's a Sondheim-ian feel to Keane's particularly ardent brand of complex pop melancholy this time out to go with its new sense of directness.

Talbot's a great craftsman--half a spin of Ghost proves that--but he's at his most compelling when he's sketching in the margins.

It feels less like an overly ambitious second album, as might be expected, and more like a pivotal and dramatic step forward into relevance once again.

If Beach House's last record was a teen dream, this is an adult version: Bloom is a matured, ethereal journey.

The indie scrappers' fifth album is as cocky, defiant and shouty as earlier efforts.

While The Only Place loses much of the simplicity that made Crazy for You such a breezy, fun listen, there's only room for growth in records to come.

As in the case of its predecessors, A Different Ship is keen to stow multiple genres.

Largely favoring grayscale tones and sedated sentiment, Lower Dens' highs achieve with an understated ability to evoke emotion.

Old age should be so much fun.

Time's All Gone takes you back in the day and pulls you into the moment all at once.

With Jones these days, you may not know exactly what you're getting, but you know it's going to be great.

A surprisingly optimistic take on his trademark jazz-fueled rock.

[Josh Tillman] distinguishing himself as more than a back-row howler.

There's simply a gentle swing to Watson's woeful, unavoidably Buckley-esque warble, containing an epic elegance worthy of the most intimate of adventures.

Cheers to Torche for proving a heavy-rock band can be optimistic and sincere-without sacrificing any of the edge.

Exercises, is a downcast and reflective paean for the '70s underground. The chamber-piano infused into these eight experiments is sometimes utterly heartrending-those pulsating synthesizers sound like they could pump blood and breathe oxygen.

You can't help but be pleasantly surprised and impressed by how much this effort doesn't borrow from its predecessor.

This ain't no Chickenfoot; this is the really really real deal.

Orcas find a space that floats between velvet vocals and Pioulard's field recordings in a time frozen between dreams and a reality beautifully faded by the sun.

Familiar yet thrilling, Blunderbuss is a masterful introduction to a man we've known all along.

Their unholy powers combined, they give us Hair, a raucous, psychedelic guitar skirmish that transcends descriptions of its creators' individual works.

Its tracks are beautiful storms for restless times.

Lighthearted melodies and delicate instrumentations mask Cynic's New Year's darker lyrics, adding a layer of complexity that requires multiple listens.

Those who have spent endless hours tripping to various corners of the universe with Spiritualized on the stereo might be surprised by how earnest and grounded the great Spaceman sounds here.

Gorgeous tracks are as eerie as they are sonically cosseting, all weirdly effected electronics and gossamer vocals.