Less conceptual and experimental than its predecessor, it's a moody album, loaded with dark imagery and moments of torturous self-doubt.

No one does puzzle-pop quite like the Fiery Furnaces, and despite the multi-genre pileups and lofty literary pretension, when they get it right it's enough to forgive them for when they get it wrong.

The album is loaded with arresting musical touches.

The Chicago quartet has been making this kind of music since the '90s, and its eighth album is much in the spirit of past releases.

These 11 songs comprise an ambitious song cycle, and the songwriting on "Neon Bible" is stronger and more focused than it was on "Funeral."

The 30-year-old San Diegan makes another foray into sonic cross-pollination with heavy doses of polish and free-flowing energy on his third full-length studio album.

Like much of Diamond's canon, these songs are rich with melodramatic flare-ups.

Whether rollicking through "St. James Infirmary" or reflecting on "Wouldn't It Be Loverly," Wilson is in top-form, always sounding quite loverly.

With so many stylistic shifts, there's no easy description for the kind of album My Morning Jacket has created, so let's leave it at this: Evil Urges is the sound of a great band that's only getting better.

This rethink has by no means robbed the band of its tunefulness, as the snappy 'Inaugural Trams' readily proves. But the dozen minutes of 'Pric,' which meanders charmingly around the musical map, are more representative of an outfit which is at its best wild and weird.

Ra Ra Riot persevered (and recently added West Hartford drummer Gabriel Duquette to the lineup), recording a full-length debut by turns soulful and super-catchy.

Conor Oberst (Merge) is the richest collection of songs from Conor Oberst--via Bright Eyes, Desaparecidos, whatever--in a long time.

Springsteen's latest is very good, and a handful of tunes approach the level of urgency and raw desperation that made his earlier music so compelling.

If Isbell’s departure was the cloud, Brighter Than Creation's Dark is the silver lining.

These are full-band songs, with prominent piano, and it sounds more like guys playing in a room than the careful construct of a recording studio. That's a good thing.

The album holds some pleasant surprises.

Most songs, including the single-worthy 'Come Clean,' are still built on soaring vocal interplay and a childlike sense of wonder.

Ray Raposa's creepy folk explorations as Castanets remain intimate affairs writ in miniature, despite a backing band with up to seven members and a choir of 10.

Adam Duritz and company haven’t sounded so committed, so determined, so tuneful, in years.

The shambling London trio Micachu & the Shapes embrace all manners of homemade noises on this cheeky debut, surprisingly produced by electronic experimentalist Matthew Herbert.

Black Cascade is impressive enough to vault Wolves into the top ranks of the highly idiosyncratic U.S. black-metal scene, allowing them rub shoulders with such standard-bearer bands as Nachtmystium and Absu.

His best so far.

The circuitous path to success has done the band good: it's given Brown and company time enough to develop a winsome country-rock style without undue meddling from the major-label mediocracy, and it shows on You Get What You Give.

Whatever the sound, his songs are unfailingly catchy, and his smart lyrics and lovely melodies make them stand out even when they're understated.

The enigmatic nature of his music aside, Oldham invariably sounds like he's having fun making it, which makes Beware a warning only to those who place too high a value on simplistic clarity.

Editors show they're ready to take over with the spacious, stately love-conquers-all tune "The Weight of the World" or the pop-philosophy of the twitchy, pulse-pounding title track.

American Music Club return with a quieter but no less excellent addition to a catalog that stretches back to 1985.

Lewis and Staind sound as though they have emerged from a long, dark tunnel, and that kind of progress is more than just an illusion.