Good Evening is unbelievably catchy and vintage but at times is weighted down by its own obscurity, sometimes becoming far too much background noise and not enough of an active listen to provide enough distinction between tracks.

But if this is not a problem for you (there’s hardly a word of English), then you’ll enjoy the warm dialogue and glacial crooning of an ancient tongue presented over a psychedelic mix of some of the dark continents finest.

Unyielding in its murkiness, but all the while strangely accessible, it is a generous full-bodied offering handed to us by these otherwise blurred figures.

Right from the get-go, whatever "community" Deacon was aiming for seems to be established--the music is inclusive, it's warm, and it invites you in rather than thrusting itself at you, unlike previous Deacon works.

Junior breathes new life into an already overpopulated genre of glitch and synth stab fury.

Doom still holds some secrets, but his lyricism and feel for the funk sweat out of the this album as much as any of his previous, if not more. He clearly shows that he is here to stay, and if anyone was expecting change, they are looking in the wrong spot.

Stith’s ability to combine sounds into a sort of post-modern tribal folk is what makes the album so enjoyable to listen to.

Ali's lyrics and Ant's production have more to say in a few bars than most MCs and producers are able to in an entire song.

Every single solitary track on this record maintains a cohesive vibe that will keep listeners cruising in their rides until they run out of gas; or weed, which ever comes first.

Dirty Bomb is a double-edged sword that will undoubtedly rip you apart--but trust when I say it won’t hurt.

Techno-oriented tracks like “Fire” and “Divebomb, while serviceable forays into the genre, sound out of place and disrupt the lilting momentum of the record. However, these slight missteps are are not enough to ruin a solid first effort from a band that is an undoubtedly promising addition to the dance-rock canon.

When Machines Exceed Human Intelligence is the perfect musical equivalent to our relentless dependancy on technology.

Boratto’s focus remains on approaching the line of excess without tipping over. And once again he stays on the wire.

Very simplistic in melody and progression, each track on 200 Million Thousand is a tube-driven, distorted mess, complete with classic Brit-punk vocals. Twangy and overdriven guitars are matched with screams and pissed-off vocals full of attitude, creating a highly energetic punch, reminiscent of a Black Lips live performance.

Whether it’s Mark’s influence, or Kinky’s own growth over the years (or maybe both), this album has universal appeal and its party-ready, rich sound is one that would be a shame to pass up.

The two mini-albums are both successes in vastly different ways, but they are especially effective as testaments to the versatility and adventurousness of Zach Condon.

The Spirit of Apollo is what happens when the imagination is let out of its cage. Good things happen.

Die-hard fans may not like the style change, but I think it’s a step in the right direction.

Watersports sets itself up nicely for some critical acclaim, and its multi-genre versatility will make it easy for people of all musical tastes to find something to enjoy.

Love, Hate, and Then There’s You may not be a sign of the band’s growth, but it succeeds in capturing what the Von Bondies are and have been best at.

Immolate Yourself picks up exactly where they left off, with a sound much more mature and textured--coming complete with its owned imagined world--fully equipped with freeform dynamism of a celestial and delicate styling.

The shimmering dream pop of the band’s debut is surprisingly accomplished and self-assured, a rare shoegaze-styled album that isn’t hellbent on aping the genre’s luminaries.

Ray Guns Are Not Just the Future is a pop gem for the young at heart and proof that the duo possesses the serious musical talent needed bring their whimsical musical visions to life.

Oizo’s latest effort easily becomes the pitch-perfect soundtrack to an epic night out, reminding us that these cats across the pond know exactly how to make electronic music seem both strange and familiar, music that practically anyone can enjoy.

This album is truly an odyssey where if a picture paints only a thousand words, these songs can paint an entire film.

With Merriweather Post Pavilion, Animal Collective have proven themselves to be at the forefront of progressive pop, as deadly with their textures as they are with their melodies.

Their efforts are ambitious and commendable, but it seems like it will end up as one of those albums that may captivate you for a couple weeks--but will eventually be ousted from your recently played.

Live, this animal bears really bears it's fangs while at the same time increasing the thoughtful and clever sonics and compositional savvy that puts them in a class above most of their peers.