Reissued last year, the debut Icky Mettle had their most celebrated pop songs ("Web in Front," "Wrong," "Plumb Line") but the follow-up Vee Vee was just as great, and thicker.

Lissy Trullie sounds simultaneously hungry and tepid, as if Trullie wants to make a big splash, but her album lacks the conviction or vision to make it happen.

The General Strike sticks to the same supposedly state-smashing standards that drove the previous six or so albums from these Pittsburgh-bred punks into redundancy.

Mixed Emotions is a shiny bear-hug of an album--sometimes short on fresh ideas, but never lacking in heart.

It's arguably Mercer's and the Shins' most satisfying achievement.

The bulk of Roses is like a spring day in the first week of May - not exactly shocking, but sunny and warm.

A lovely, thoughtful album.

Zoo is a fine tribute to [often-compared band]Wire's heavier side, alternating between powerful, lumbering riffs and manic splatters of guitar noise.

Giving us a taste of what this genre [shoegaze]could encompass with a modernized touch.

One Second of Love is artfully crafted.

Rad Times is a towering paean to a time that never was, when too much was never enough, and a three-minute song could gloriously last forever.

Although there's still a menacing pulse to be found, anything constituting traditional dubstep is largely forgone.

His inaugural gathering of bona-fide solo work summons an aura of full-blown tranquility.

As a post-Occupy album, it's less ripped-from-the-headlines and more cribbed-from-older-and-better-ideas.

The disc largely lacks the memorable song- writing Merritt is known for, and that deficit is only compounded by the misguided production.

It's exactly the kind of album one imagines Bird could whip up on a lazy Sunday afternoon after a cat-nap.

This showcases Stewart's proclivity for macabre imagery and borderline perversion waging war with his pop-songwriting expertise.

A curiosity from a true talent.

This might not be the experimental genre-crossing venture the duo set out to accomplish, but it is a slideshow of timeless pop songs.

Give You the Ghost is only as transfixing as its singer.

Sounds hollow and uninspired.

Reign of Terror is way awesomer [than Treats].

Gemini's theater-rock is no pain to listen to, but true drama queens will want to get their fix elsewhere.

They are a hell of a band if you're looking for catchy rock with occasional sparks of brilliance.

It's a killer.

The mood ... is decidedly bleak- populated by disillusioned lovers and working class escapists, the lyrics splitting at the seams with dark religious imagery.

Who's Feeling Young Now? strikes a perfect balance between flash and form, running blistered fingers on otherwise scholarly templates.

It'll inevitably be pigeonholed as post-house or something equally asinine, but for now, it exists without definition, and for that we can be grateful.