Even though Lemonjelly.ky's cover looks like something straight out of Wavy Gravy’s closet, its sound owes much more to the work of '60s luminaries like John Barry, Esquivel and Jean-Jacques Perrey.

McNeely and Matz have found their calling and left a lasting impression with this fierce yet fragile album.

You won't be sure whether you blacked out from a seizure, gave birth to twins or simply had one of the best musical experiences of your life.

A sensitive, fully mature contribution to the pop music lexicon, it proves that, like the rare child actor who actually works well into adulthood, The Cardigans have weathered a difficult transition.

While it has a few rough patches, the Hartnoll brothers' latest effort proves that they're still at the top of the electronic music heap.

Its ten tracks wend their way through a forest of oblique metaphors, kaleidoscopically fractured images and alt-country instrumentation, their path lit only by the wounding fragility of Orth's voice.

The joy of Lost in Revelry is its balance. It's assured, but freely flaunts its imperfections; it's polished, but clearly revels in its most amateurish moments.

The band should be proud of Yanqui U.X.O. -- it proves that they're not hopelessly married to the fine-print details of their formula, and that they can still wring fresh ideas from familiar territory.

Summer Make Good blurs the distinctions of digital and analog to the point of opening new categories.

Sounds like it's coming from bluesmasters who've lived twice as long and seen three times as much.

Sorry I Make You Lush runs on fresh sounds and non-drowsy wit.

Producer Jim Diamond has distilled the manic energy of one of the world's greatest live bands in Electric Sweat, and if the result is not letter-perfect, it is raw and true and powerful.

As much as it hurts to admit it, not everybody will get so much out of Smog's latest understated masterpiece.

It's everything we've come to expect from Forrest in one gloriously hack 'n' sawed package, meticulously pieced together from his wide-ranging record collection.

Pig Lib is the kind of album you think about even when it's not on, that slowly develops for you and creates synapses and connections that maybe Malkmus never intended.

It may not be the best album of their career, but it's certainly the most interesting -- and a reliable cure for your indifference.

It's all so beautifully simple, especially moody acoustic guitar/piano laments like "Fewer Words", that you almost miss how effective the arrangements are -- gorgeous, heartfelt melodies yield odes to a life that's consistently surprising and alive with optimism.

Expansively orchestrated, Nixon ultimately comes off as beautiful but slightly disturbing...

While Rejoicing and Niño Rojo were clearer, simpler and more cohesive, Cripple Crow may actually be the better record. It feels exactly like the kind of album Devendra Banhart ought to have playing in his head -- a cacophony of cool sounds, a plethora of contradictory ideas, a patchwork quilt of psychedelically bright colors.

You can listen to the disc over and over and never get bored; there's always a new musical idea to discover in a place that you didn't expect to hear it.

There's still plenty of grating screaming and yelling on From the Desk of Mr. Lady, underscored by a strong punk ethos.

Though it sounds strange at first, Skinner's delivery is so absorbing that the accent issue will be an afterthought before opener "Turn the Page" has ended.

While Politics of the Business follows in the conceptual footsteps of its forbears, its all-too-literal sense of moral responsibility does get a tad tiresome, occasionally sagging into diluted dogma.

Control stands apart from previous Pedro the Lion releases because its harder material is among its most satisfying.

The sounds that pour forth from the teamwork of David Eugene Edwards, Jean-Yves Tola and co. echo another time so completely, that at times you might think these sounds were recovered, rather than newly created.

It's a well-thought out and solidly executed effort by an artist who hasn't allowed himself to become set in his ways.

The disc's effectiveness comes from the subtlety of the theme as much as its pervasiveness.

What could have been an awkward marriage of incompatible styles turned into a vibrant, invigorating blast of musical enthusiasm, free of restrictive genre definitions.