Another sturdy entry into Switchfoot’s endlessly likable alt-rock catalog.

Flyleaf’s sophomore effort is a contrived, soulless piece of merchandise.

A subtle, pleasant electro-pop debut.

The David Crowder*Band is more fun out from under the weight of misplaced critical acclaim.

Umbrella Tree seamlessly bridges the gap between complexity and quality.

Masks aside, there’s no doubting who’s behind this record.

Derek Webb’s exhilarating, subversive masterpiece.

An inconsistent, confused follow-up that’s only occasionally any fun.

Imogen Heap’s songs are fussily lovely, but could afford to take more risks.

Mew’s first album in four years bears the workaholic influence of New York and loses a bit of their magic.

A promising Christian rap album without the embarrassing aftertaste.

The Fruit Bats are back, and there’s nothing to complain about.

The Damnwells need a home outside of keg parties and uninspired romantic films.

As the title might suggest, Wilco is primarily focused on repeating itself.

The Field force together musical ideas whether they fit or not. The result is stunning.

Jars of Clay may be as good as Christian bands come. But do they matter?

The Silversun Pickups’ sophomore album is a little smoother, but still muddled.

Equal parts bold, broken, angry, and insightful, an easy album to admire if not a candidate for love at first sight.

The Appleseed Cast’s seventh album is by turns beautiful and inscrutable.

A laid-back journey that doesn’t mind if it’s not headed anywhere in particular.

A Superdrag album that’s solid, but not a classic.

Kelly’s return is a concession to pop reality, and maybe proof that the industry doesn’t deserve her.

Feels like typical Neko, but only occasionally rewards us with extraordinariness of her finest efforts.

U2 digs in, adding nuance and redefinition to over thirty years of work.

Hold Time wisps listeners away on a nostalgic trip to another era.

The Fray leaves little doubt that we’re never going to hear much genuine inspiration from their corner of the market.

Consistently quiet, delicate, brooding, and mystically powerful.

A second date full of all the mixed emotions of a follow-up romantic encounter.

Desplat employs steadiness and symmetry to invoke the slow passage of time.

This might be Andrew Bird’s satisfying, breezy cool-down in preparation for risk-taking next time.

Still the same quasi-Christian spiritualist, spinning tales of drug addiction and ever-lingering hope.

On par with Waterdeep’s best, finally bringing back the rock elements that have been missing for years.

The hostility and self-pity become all-consuming, by turns sending Lovedrug up in flames and wandering through monotony.

This is Fall Out Boy grown up, easily recognizable but measurably evolved.

The Hush Now is a sort of Death Cab for Cutie of the dreamy, shoegaze-brushed pop world.

Enjoyable for its high-quality production and unconventional arrangements.

It’s rare for a band to be this independent and still this universally accessible.

It’s high time we all faced the elephantine reality about the Killers: they’re not going to get any better.

Anathallo’s melodies and jubilant harmonies are finally anchored to concise, palatable song structures.

Passively suggests that perhaps Shiny Toy Guns are more than the Best Electronic/Dance nominees.

Coldplay’s addendum to Viva la Vida is mindlessly but endlessly pleasant.

Kanye West’s fourth record could stand to more concise and less fixated with its own gimmicks.

Save one song from each part, there is nothing on I Am … Sasha Fierce that sounds like it should be performed by a singer of Beyoncé‘s class.

Who Killed Harry Houdini? is more imitative than it’s predecessor, but it’s not markedly worse off for it.

So no one liked the new Bond movie. But there are lots of reasons to love the soundtrack.

Stripping the Belle & Sebastian repertoire of its post-production elegance makes for an interesting keepsake.

Not a lot of groundbreaking music, but plenty of the of the catchy, guitar-jamming, country-pop mix that quickly made Taylor Swift princess of the highways.

The sunshine hasn’t really set since we last listened, slept, and repeated: it’s warm in all the same ways, bright in all the same places, and trickles into the shadows with all the same meandering subtlety.

Words & Music is a reverse journey into Matt Hales’ artistic chronology, finished out with appropriately historic musical references.

With a voice that can be as rough as a cat’s tongue and as soft as its fur, Ray LaMontagne has staged a triumphant third album that examines the politics of the heart.

If the passive-aggressive, rock-as-pop Snow Patrol formula does it for you, be prepared to have a new favorite record for a few months.

Keane’s new direction allows them to meet fans and critics halfway without exposing their reluctance to really try something new.

Oasis has now reached middle-age, and with it comes LP Number 7. These eleven cuts reveal the same old band, still grubbing for the soul they captured as much younger men.

Does You Inspire You is a window-dressed shop of styles and ideas, the false starts and experiments of a band still deciding what exactly to wear.

Dance or Die is more a foretaste of Family Force 5’s bright future than an entirely coherent album. But it is intermittently brilliant, which may be as good as saying it’s the best Christian album of the year.

Unlike Tooth & Nail graduates of the past, Anberlin’s major-label debut is as mature as it should be, and will provide their new acquaintances a respectable summary.

Do not mess with Deas Vail. They are not here to spoon feed you candy-pop ditties. They’re here to kill you with their dark emotional feelings. Kill you to death.

There may be a “Golden Age coming around,” but for right now it’s a pretty dark place, and Dear Science is a lament for what could be.

Girl-and-boy duo Earlimart release their sixth album, and it doesn’t do much to stir their hazy, melodic continuum.

Every element of Andrews’ songwriting has matured, and the result is an entertaining, self-assured second record.

This time, out of reach of most any peers, Underoath have made their best attempt at a truly cohesive album.

Whether due to the inner workings of a sexist industry, or the temptation to strip down and sell out, it makes a “total package” girl like Battistelli a breath of fresh radio-ready air.

Proof that rock is dead-er than it’s ever been. But also of its imminent respawning.

Somehow yet again, a mind-boggling facsimile of the Christian man’s Coldplay.

Maybe Gillis’ cut-and-paste party is a faddish novelty act, but it’s too much fun to walk away from.

This is what happens when you work too hard to polish a formula that already worked pretty well.

A surprising, delightfully rough debut from a band of Tooth & Nail newcomers.

To best understand The Hold Steady, you should get one thing: it’s rap music for the white man.

Neither easily dismissible or instantly brilliant, Viva la Vida is precisely the record most Coldplay experts probably forecasted.

Sweaty, underground, back-room dance club music, convincingly executed by a Christian band.

Barfield treads his themes lightly and avoids the most well-worn of commercial Christian ideas.

As with any notable pop-punk recording, we find the same elements as always, altered slightly and arranged to taste.

Every track practically bursts with effort, and sometimes that’s the problem.

Fetishized weirdness takes a backseat to soaring vocals and instrumental interludes.

Making the past sound like the present, The Lassie Foundation reinvent that oh-so-mythical California shoegaze sound.

If anyone managed to escape “Boston” this record will likely rope them into Augustana’s indulgent but irresistible orbit.

Keeps away from easily-dissectible melodies and song structures, but lacks focus and emotional intimacy.

Maybe it’s the pointed, plaintive lyrics, or the once-in-a-lifetime vocal match. Who can resist?

Most of the songs here don’t carry the shine or enthusiasm of his past work.

Delirious? occasionally use their talents to push the limits of their trademark sound.

Despite the high-quality production values, Search the City has one big problem.

Sometimes-melodic pop music for those who generally find cheeky DIY pretension endearing.

Benign, toothless pop solutions to a real crisis of community.

A more accessible, more hopeful sophomore effort from the “Crazy” duo.

Piano, strings, power vocals—proof that pained pop music has a future.

The art-rock band’s sophomore record is a battle between grace and pride.

Avoids its potential to be disposable by remaining enchantingly cohesive.

Talented musicians do not always add up to a great rock band. Here’s a case in point.

Don’t buy this record. Somewhere or everywhere, it will find you soon enough.

This is certainly an attempt at “indie rock”—complacent, ethereal, and relatively hookless.

Almost convinces us that while risks come and go, good melodies and harmonies last forever.

Another mood-setting album that is by turns mundane and divine.

A beginning academic exercise that’s both pretty and colored with splashes of history.

Not Christian music so much as a study of Christian music, this record nostalgically holds up gospel music in its purer form.

Vampire Weekend will not help you understand Thomas Pynchon or get Obama elected, but their debut is a breezy good time.

Despite a few missteps, a record brimming with sugary pleasures and bright encouragement.

A few steps out on the limb, but still mostly middling slow-burners.

Frenetic drumming, walls of distortion, layers of detail—the glorious sounds of post-rock. Well, half of the time.

On this B-sides collection, Copeland lets the indie dye fade to reveal their true roots.

Death Cab for Cutie’s guitarist releases the kind of solo album that fans are always afraid of.

Until next time, Kate Nash is a charming girl who needs time and editing.

A free download full of beautifully monochromatic folk music that evokes frozen lakes and chilly nights of silence.

This double-disc tribute succeeds by holding its unblinking focus on Bob Dylan.

Timbaland’s favorite rockers can’t seem to find their way off the playground on their debut release.

Part one of the Switchfoot frontman’s four-seasons EP project.

A wildly experimental “experience” album that’s difficult to describe, but not too hard to enjoy.

A polished and enchanting warm-up release from a budding pop songwriter.

It’s never too late to fall for My Bloody Valentine’s masterpiece.

Two titans form an unexpected union and give birth to a near-perfect record.

Tooth & Nail’s latest attempt to “take the world by storm” is an ill-advised mission.

Toned down from indulgent bluster into a clearer, more memorable experience.

“Living room rock” is not a bad term for Kyle Andrews’ brand of experimental college pop.

With this generally rewarding record, Britney might displace Fergie as America’s most ubiquitous female artist.

Album number 14 is no musical achievement, but neither is it an unpleasant listen.

Stars
In Our Bedroom After the War
Whatever your dark adventure, the Canadian orchestral pop-rockers provide a capable soundtrack.

The antidote to post-rock bluster: no shaggy edges, just clean skill.

Dashboard Confessional
The Shade of Poison Trees

Dashboard’s “return to roots” is actually more about general restraint, and that’s a good thing.

Phil Wickham delivers a mixed result but becomes the reigning king of Christian Britpop.

The Crowder Band’s highly-anticipated follow-up to A Collision disappoints.

Josh Ritter
The Historical Conquests
Ritter’s cerebral, eclectic record is the album to beat for 2007.

Surrogate
Love is for the Rich
Expressionless vocal delivery mars an otherwise intriguing debut.

On the Crowns’ intolerable strike three, they come across more puerile and preachy than they’ve ever been.

Caedmon’s Call
Overdressed
Despite the return of Derek Webb and Bride, Caedmon’s Call still isn’t as good as we know they can be.

Scott Orr
Miles from Today
Canadian songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Scott Orr delivers an impressively detailed, textured debut.

Wavorly
Conquering the Fear of Flight
On their Flicker debut, Wavorly apes Muse and C.S. Lewis and, half of the time, gets things right.

BarlowGirl
How Can We Be Silent
The trio of rocking sisters release their third, a derivative, preachy, but quite pretty affair.

This bell tolls for rock and roll and for compelling, lacerating songwriting.

Army of Me
Citizen
An emotive sleeper that’s too fresh-faced and pretty to miss.

Lifehouse
Who We Are
With a tired load of unintentionally sexual lyrics and ad-nauseum repetition, Lifehouse gives up quality for Jesus.

A plodding, uninspired third record from a band still looking for a reason to exist.

David Crowder Band
A Collision
The part where we finally, finally talk about that David Crowder Band.

Anberlin’s near-perfect third record is an example for every garden variety pop-punk band struggling to be heard.

Jars of Clay
Good Monsters
Jars of Clay reveals a kaleidoscope of new influences on their best record in a very long time.