The problem with describing the latest effort by genius Dan Bejar (also of New Pornographers and Swan Lake) to someone who’s never heard his work as Destroyer is that such description falls flat in the wake of its magic, even making it sound unappealing – rather than one of rock music’s greatest recent accomplishments (which it is). Let’s see: Bejar’s voice is quite nasal, with a vocal delivery that verges on simply talking, his lyrics are extremely erudite and his references esoteric, and his meandering song structures barely imply hooks and choruses. But! Taken together with lyrics whose brilliance cannot be overstated, his appealing world-weary Casanova/professor persona, and well-placed, classic-sounding piano and guitar flourishes – these liabilities become assets, elements of the gorgeous document that is Trouble In Dreams. Despite the sheer volume of words Bejar uses (and the high quotability of his verse), his refrains, with extended vowels repeated into hypnosis, are what ultimately make his songs so stunning; by the fourth time he intones “we live in darkness/the light is a dream you see” during the album’s central eight-minute epic “Shooting Rockets,” it’s difficult to imagine listening to anything else. Destroyer as closed system: an idea extended by Bejar’s tendency to reference his own lyrics from previous albums. His self-referentiality is only one way in which Bejar inverts pop songform on Trouble In Dreams: the wan, half-hearted tone he uses for his well-placed “ba da da dum” vocal runs shows his nod toward, as well as rejection of, classic rock song structure. And his frequent intentionally-awkward internal rhyme forces the listener’s attention back to verse structure, poetry, and artifice – reminding the listener in form as well as in lyric (“my dear, didn’t you hear/a chorus is a thing that bears repeating”) of the contrived nature of songcraft. But none of his genre-inversion cuts down on his melodies’ simple beauty or his lyrics’ compelling story-arcs; Trouble In Dreams, like his Rubies and Your Blues before it, is simply a momentous and lovely record whose depths reward further plumbing. (Anna)

An immensely likable record featuring the odd pairing of actress Zooey Deschanel and indie god M. Ward. The two met on the set of a film in which she starred and Ward was brought in to help out with the soundtrack. Turns out they liked working together and soon found themselves in the studio. Their collaboration, Volume One, is an unusual hybrid of sunny, Brill Building ‘60s pop and country twang. Turns out Deschanel is no dilettante. She famously sang in the film Elf, and she shows a surprisingly wide range in vocals. And Ward, who produced the record, brings just the right touch, giving it a spare sound and letting her beguiling voice shine. He also joins her on a few tracks, most memorably on delightful, Hawaiian-tinged cover of the Beatles’ “I Should Have Known Better.” Elsewhere the record hums along unfailingly, from the delightful croon of “Take It Back” to the saccharine “Sentimental Heart.” Recommended. (Ralph)

Some Racing, Some Stopping is a real treat, the kind of blissfully catchy indie pop record that lets you fast forward straight to summer. It’s the second full-length from the Champaign, Illinois, group Headlights, who previously favored a more guitar-heavy, rock-oriented sound. Contrary to the album’s title, it generally invokes neither racing nor stopping but plenty of dancing and dreaming. The songs feature co-ed vocals, sparkling instrumental arrangements, and hooks galore. There’s definitely a ‘60s girl group influence at work, mixed with elements of Stars, Mates of State and Rilo Kiley (circa The Execution of All Things). Highlights include the upbeat, instantly memorable “Market Girl” and the floaty, shimmering “Cherry Tulips.” (Kiri)

Valet is the solo vehicle of Honey Owens, sometimes member of Jackie O Motherfucker, Atlas Sound and Nudge, and Naked Acid is her second collection of spectral, murky musings. The seven lengthy stretched-out pieces that make up the album flow more like a sound collage at times, with fragments of underwater vocals, washes of muted guitar fuzz, found sound percussion and the occasional Spacemen 3-style demented blues moment. The randomness of these skittering explorations gels at some point and creates a flow that makes the entire picture bigger than the individual parts, inextricable from each other. As a new generation of artists rediscover and mutate the space-rock genre, with varying degrees of success, Valet really nails it by warping the obvious influences and bringing a real darkness and paranoia to the sometimes too-dreamy shoegaze catalog. (Fred)

Granted we’re not even through March yet, but the Born Ruffians’ Red, Yellow & Blue is thus far my favorite rock album of the year. This Toronto trio’s debut full-length on Warp sizzles with hooks, style and a wonderfully frenzied energy, with jangly guitar riffs, tight and melodic bass playing, and lead singer’s Luke LaLonde’s warbled vocals and wry wordplay bringing to mind the likes of Animal Collective, Modest Mouse and Built to Spill. The guitar-bass-drums format hardly breaks ground, but the band always keeps things interesting by throwing you a hook, whether it’s the sudden introduction of doo-wop harmonies, a tinkling piano or rapid shift in rhythm. With nary a bad track on the record, Red, Yellow & Blue is a triumph. (James)

Somehow I can’t imagine Adam Green’s fifth solo album, Sixes & Sevens, reaching number one on the Billboard chart like his former Moldy Peach bandmate Kimya Dawson with the Juno soundtrack. Not that this is not a great album, but Green’s eclectic, to say the least, influences and quirky lyrics might be a bit too much for some people. Our favorite baritone anti-folk hero is back in fine form with a surprisingly soulful album with strong hints of funk, Motown, and gospel for good measure! The glossy production (Beck’s father, David Campbell, conducted the orchestral arrangements) lends the album a more mature feel and Green croons his heart out on tracks such as “Festival Song” and “Leaky Flask.” Also watch out for a surprise appearance on backing vocals by the three Hanson brothers on “Twee Twee Dee”! Green has delivered another twenty slices of deliciously eccentric pop not to be missed. (Morgane)