It wasn't noted much at the time, but founding keyboardist Jesse Carmichael sat out Maroon 5's 2012 album Overexposed -- a circumstance that just happened to coincide with Adam Levine capitalizing on his Voice-fueled stardom. Overexposed and over-filled with guest producers and songwriters drafted to compensate for the absent Carmichael, rapper Wiz Khalifa, reliable Swedish hitmakers Max Martin & Shellback, and icy OneRepublic frontman Ryan Tedder gave the group a steely sleekness to suit contemporary charts. Some of this is retained on V, the 2014 record that marks Carmichael's return to the group, partially because all those guests save Khalifa return for a second helping. The absence of the rapper suggests Maroon 5 aren't quite as concerned with sounding youthful as they were last time around, which is generally true. Some tracks maintain the glossy veneer that overwhelmed Overexposed -- not entirely a surprise with Martin billed as the record's executive producer -- and, despite some unnecessary vocal processing on Levine scattered throughout the record, these are largely the ones featuring returning guests: Tedder co-writes and co-produces the album's lead single, "Maps," a song where Levine's Sting mannerisms steamroll the hooks," while Shellback helms "Animals," "In Your Pocket," and "Feelings," with all but the last placing emphasis on brittle beats. Elsewhere, the vibe shifts slightly back to the soulful pop that's remained at Maroon 5's core since the beginning, here given an ever so slight maturation to balance the modern moves heard on the rest of the record. Sometimes, the group achieves a delicate balance between the two extremes -- "It Was Always You," "New Love," and the aforementioned "Feelings" -- but the best moments on V are when Maroon 5 embrace the tuneful, slightly soulful adult contemporary pop band they've always been, as they do on "Sugar," "Coming Back for You," and the Gwen Stefani duet "My Heart Is Open."© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

For their third album, R.E.M. made a conscious effort to break from the traditions Murmur and Reckoning established, electing to record in England with legendary folk-rock producer Joe Boyd. For a variety of reasons, the sessions were difficult, and that tension is apparent throughout Fables of the Reconstruction. A dark, moody rumination on American folk -- not only the music, but its myths -- Fables is creepy, rustic psychedelic folk, filled with eerie sonic textures. Some light breaks through occasionally, such as the ridiculous collegiate blue-eyed soul of "Can't Get There From Here," but the group's trademark ringing guitars and cryptic lyrics have grown sinister, giving even sing-alongs like "Driver 8" an ominous edge. Fables is more inconsistent than its two predecessors, but the group does demonstrate considerable musical growth, particularly in how perfectly it evokes the strange rural legends of the South. And many of the songs on the record -- including "Feeling Gravitys Pull," "Maps and Legends," "Green Grow the Rushes," "Auctioneer (Another Engine)," and the previously mentioned pair -- rank among the group's best.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

On their EPs, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs grew considerably, moving from the arty yet anthemic garage punk of their self-titled EP to Machine's angular urgency. Fever to Tell, their first full-length and major-label debut, also shows growth, but for the first time the band doesn't sound completely in control of the proceedings. Their EPs were masterful studies in contrast and economy, balancing just the right amounts of noise, melody, chaos, and structure within 15 to 20 minutes. At 37 minutes long, Fever to Tell sounds, at different times, scattered and monotonous. Most of this is due to poor sequencing -- the album opens with some of the raunchiest noise the Yeah Yeah Yeahs have ever recorded, then abruptly changes gears and delivers a kitchen sink's worth of pretty ballads and experimental pieces. Both the old and new sides of the band's sound offer brilliant and frustrating moments: "Rich" is a sneering sugar-mommy story; "Black Tongue," which features the great lyric "let's do this like a prison break," is almost Hasil Adkins-esque in its screwed-up sexuality and rockabilly licks. "Date with the Night," a rattling, screeching joy ride of a song, combines Karen O's unearthly vocals, Nick Zinner's ever-expanding guitar prowess, and Brian Chase's powerful drumming in dynamic ways. Not so good are the insanely noisy "Man" and "Tick," which have enough volume and attitude to make the Kills and Jon Spencer turn pale, but also sound like they're coasting on those qualities. The moody, romantic songs on Fever to Tell are the most genuine. "Pin" and "Y Control" have a bittersweet bounciness, while the unabashedly gorgeous, sentimental "Maps" is not only among the band's finest work but one of the best indie/punk love songs in a long, long time. Along with "Modern Romance," a pretty but vaguely sinister meditation on the lack thereof, these songs compensate for some of Fever to Tell's missteps (such as "No No No," a lengthy, halting mishmash of punk and dubby experimentalism). Perhaps they should've included some of their tried-and-tested songs from their EPs, but for a group this mercurial, that would probably be stagnation. Though this is their debut album, Fever to Tell almost feels like a transitional release; they're already rethinking their sound in radical ways. Even when they're uneven, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are still an exciting band.© Heather Phares /TiVo

The Call Within is pianist Tigran Hamasyan's fourth Nonesuch long-player, the follow-up to 2017's acclaimed solo outing An Ancient Observer. Performed with electric bassist Evan Marien and drummer Arthur Hnatek, the set's title conjures images of introspection, but that's a wide-ranging notion in the pianist's psychogeography. For him, this is a journey into his dreamlike inner world, where lifelong interests in maps from different eras, poetry, Armenian folk stories, astrology, geometry, ancient Armenian design, rock carvings, and cinematography all share inner terrain in an astonishing exploration of sound and composition. Unlike its predecessor, The Call Within is far from gentle meditations, though it too is profoundly spiritual. Hamasyan calls this music "electro-acoustic Armenian rock," and he's not far off, but he's as subject to its diverse musical forces as the listener.Opener "Levitation 21" commences with a gently repetitive chord pattern adorned by triple-time drumming and pulsing bass. The pianist counters with a knotty, syncopated head, and sings in droning wordless tones while sprinting across the upper register. "Our Film" features guest vocalist Areni Agbabian and cellist Artyum Manukyan (both longtime collaborators). It resembles an opening-credits theme, moving through episodic themes and motifs. Hamasyan grafts on loops, synths, and electronic drums, coloring the proceeding with warmth and humor for all the pyrotechnics. "Ara Resurrected" is its mirror image. Commencing with rolling synths and rim shots, Hamasyan then stridently engages progressive jazz with his grand piano in scalar improvisation in a dazzling sprint with the rhythm section. "Space of Your Existence" careens across time signatures and chromatic extensions as post-bop collides with prog. Hnatek signals each sea change with furious rim shots and clattering breaks. "Old Maps" is dreamlike thanks to the Varduhi Art School Children's Choir. The simple arrangement of this folksy composition is rendered transcendent by their presence. "Vortex" features guitar hero Tosin Abasi (Animals as Leaders) in a commanding fusion of djent-like prog metal to syncopated yet interlocking grooves that recalls U.K. with Allan Holdsworth. "37 Newlyweds" is as a tenderly conceived processional that draws on Armenian sacred music with moody, minor-key lyricism and modal interrogations. Hamasyan's chanted, multi-tracked vocals suggest the influence of Komitas, adorned by shimmering synths and delicate piano loops, and underscored unintrusively by the bassist and drummer. "New Maps" closes with staggered rhythms, cascading electronics, and resonant piano. The latter instrument riffs on the chord changes, adding dimension to the already incendiary dynamic. Hamasyan has made a record for the ages with The Call Within. It registers among his most musically sophisticated and expansive yet never forsakes listenability. Herbie Hancock once stated that Hamasyan was now his teacher. Evidenced by what is on display here, he wasn't engaging in hyperbole.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

A digital-only release arriving in May of 2014, Complete Rarities I.R.S. 1982-1987 offers 50 stray tracks that have come out on various reissues, B-sides, and even the 1987 compilation Dead Letter Office, which was the first time R.E.M. attempted to tie up loose ends. The CD of Dead Letter Office contained Chronic Town, but that debut EP is absent on this collection (it hasn't appeared on any of the deluxe reissues of I.R.S. titles either). It's an unfortunate omission -- Chronic Town is a pivotal part of American indie rock -- but even with its absence, Complete Rarities I.R.S. 1982-1987 is a worthwhile clearinghouse of oddities, demos, outtakes, and live cuts from R.E.M.'s golden era. There are no new excavations here. The bulk of the collection is based on Dead Letter Office and the bonus disc included with the two-CD version of the 2006 compilation And I Feel Fine...: The Best of the I.R.S. Years 1982-1987, with the rest rounded out with bonus tracks available either on expanded European editions from the '90s or various other reissues. There is plenty to love here -- the original Hib-Tone single of "Radio Free Europe"/"Sitting Still"; exuberant early versions of "All the Right Friends" and "Bad Day," songs they'd later revive; a nervy demo of "Just a Touch"; a live medley of "Time After Time," "Red Rain," and "So. Central Rain"; the entirety of Dead Letter Office -- and hardcore fans who have somehow managed to not get this music into their R.E.M. collections should consider picking up this useful digital set.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

On their EPs, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs grew considerably, moving from the arty yet anthemic garage punk of their self-titled EP to Machine's angular urgency. Fever to Tell, their first full-length and major-label debut, also shows growth, but for the first time the band doesn't sound completely in control of the proceedings. Their EPs were masterful studies in contrast and economy, balancing just the right amounts of noise, melody, chaos, and structure within 15 to 20 minutes. At 37 minutes long, Fever to Tell sounds, at different times, scattered and monotonous. Most of this is due to poor sequencing -- the album opens with some of the raunchiest noise the Yeah Yeah Yeahs have ever recorded, then abruptly changes gears and delivers a kitchen sink's worth of pretty ballads and experimental pieces. Both the old and new sides of the band's sound offer brilliant and frustrating moments: "Rich" is a sneering sugar-mommy story; "Black Tongue," which features the great lyric "let's do this like a prison break," is almost Hasil Adkins-esque in its screwed-up sexuality and rockabilly licks. "Date with the Night," a rattling, screeching joy ride of a song, combines Karen O's unearthly vocals, Nick Zinner's ever-expanding guitar prowess, and Brian Chase's powerful drumming in dynamic ways. Not so good are the insanely noisy "Man" and "Tick," which have enough volume and attitude to make the Kills and Jon Spencer turn pale, but also sound like they're coasting on those qualities. The moody, romantic songs on Fever to Tell are the most genuine. "Pin" and "Y Control" have a bittersweet bounciness, while the unabashedly gorgeous, sentimental "Maps" is not only among the band's finest work but one of the best indie/punk love songs in a long, long time. Along with "Modern Romance," a pretty but vaguely sinister meditation on the lack thereof, these songs compensate for some of Fever to Tell's missteps (such as "No No No," a lengthy, halting mishmash of punk and dubby experimentalism). Perhaps they should've included some of their tried-and-tested songs from their EPs, but for a group this mercurial, that would probably be stagnation. Though this is their debut album, Fever to Tell almost feels like a transitional release; they're already rethinking their sound in radical ways. Even when they're uneven, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are still an exciting band.© Heather Phares /TiVo

The Frames have been fighting it out for 15 years, issuing albums that explode in the Czech Republic and nowhere else, go platinum in Galway but can't get noticed in the U.S.A. They should finally get their due with Burn the Maps. It's the determined Irish combo's first studio effort for Anti-, the Epitaph signature label that showcases such disparate and discerning acts as Joe Henry, the Locust, and Jolie Holland, and Glen Hansard and the lads fit in there just fine -- Anti-'s an oddly shaped place, but it offers artists room to move. The same applies to the Frames' music, which on Maps swings from the barbed, railing guitar rage of the Pixies nod "Underglass" to songs where a whispering, almost self-conscious Hansard stands next to roaring chorus set pieces that bring the band's full complement of guitars and sweeping fiddle to the table. In "Fake" he delivers the bitter central question -- "Come on the guy's a fake/What do you love him for?" -- as both a scream and a plea, while "Happy" makes incredible use of studio mixing to put the vocals in one ear, lingering harmonies in the other, and layers of acoustic guitar, swelling strings, and even a little electric squelch under the whole bit. That's the opener, and it brings listeners into the Frames' world of raw elegance. "Ship Caught in the Bay" starts with gentle percussion and a faraway melodic lilt, but drops in stuttering treated percussion near the three-minute mark for an atmospheric effect not unlike what the Doves do so well. It's also a bridge to Burn the Maps' final portion, three lengthy tracks that essay the Dirty Three's epic sway, build from aching acoustic guitar into a sort of comforting love song ("Wake up/It's your love calling," goes "Suffer in Silence"), and drift away on swirling fiddle and tinkling piano. Sometimes it seems like the Frames are holding back on Maps. The single "Finally" is one of the record's most deliberate moments, but it could have let Colm Mac Con Lomaire's fiddle hit a little harder. And though "Dream Awake"'s slow build is standard operating procedure for the band, it doesn't really climax as much as it plateaus. These minor missteps, however, don't lessen the album's gravity. Burn the Maps is an elemental journey that tugs at the heart and sticks around in the mind -- just as the Frames have been doing for years.© Johnny Loftus /TiVo

"This is not a show," murmurs Michael Stipe at the start of Live at the Olympia and it's not quite misdirection. R.E.M.'s five-night residency at Dublin's Olympia in the summer of 2007 functioned as working rehearsals for their 14th album, Accelerate, with the band testing out each of the songs, exploring arrangements, finding breaking points, and pairing them with older songs that informed their back-to-basics move. As rehearsal, it paid off splendidly -- road-testing the material made it stronger, resulting in their best album in years -- but the audience was in for a real treat, with the band digging deep into their back catalog to play some of their best non-hit songs. R.E.M. leans heavily on Reckoning (so much so, an accompanying digital download EP contained nothing but material from that record), plays over half of Chronic Town, and a good chunk of Fables of the Reconstruction, pulling two songs a piece from Murmur and Lifes Rich Pageant, creating a set list that any longtime fan will find near ideal. Just as importantly, the band sounds completely engaged with the material, enjoying playing the songs again, with this energy in the process rescuing cuts from Reveal and Around the Sun, suggesting that the problem was with the fussy arrangements, and that the tunes needed to be played as rock & roll. And that is what R.E.M. is here -- a tighter, cleaner band than the scruffy renegades of the '80s, but still the same band, which is evident here in ways it never was on the perfectly fine R.E.M. Live. That was a production. This is rock & roll.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo