It may not be a formula designed for critical acclaim or longevity, but pop music has always been exactly like this and HCR would make Bobby Vee, the Archies, and the New Radicals proud.

The funny thing about Western Teleport is how it sounds and feels like a full band creating something multilayered.

The Solitude of Prime Numbers is not only unique to his catalog, it is a singular work that testifies to his growth not only as a composer and recording artist but as a conceptual one, whose expansive vision has evolved to include discipline and refinement as well as ambition.

Treefight for Sunlight's debut is a triumph of sun-drenched ecstatic pop that leaves listeners with an arsenal of hooks in their heads, eager to hear what the band will come up with next.

Despite having many strong songs and a more focused approach, the Duke Spirit's third album is also their most uneven.

Those who are hoping for something in the spirit of mid-'90s Blige might be disappointed and think of the title as a ploy, but those who expect a wide variety of material in terms of style and mood will get precisely that.

While it shares sheer ambition with Scott Walker's The Drift and PJ Harvey's Let England Shake, it sounds like neither; Bush's album is equally startling because its will toward the mysterious and elliptical is balanced by its beguiling accessibility.

Nickelback's seventh studio album arrives nearly three years after their multi-platinum-selling, 2008 release Dark Horse.

Often, Break the Spell harks back to the glory days of the late '80s, when rockers played golden gods all for the sake of video cameras, secure in the knowledge that heavy rotation on MTV and AOR radio would shift millions of CDs.

There's an argument to made that Yelawolf's entry into the world of official releases is a bit too cluttered with distractions -- stars, prime beats, and big-time hooks -- to be considered a proper showcase, but when given room, he shines through.

Wright sounds terrific, navigating through the upbeat, attitudinal jams and slower, romantic cuts with finesse and strength.

Behind Good Girl Gone Bad and Rated R, this is Rihanna's third best album to date. Minus the fluff, it's close to the latter's equal.

And even though it's a more emotionally heavy album than a lot of his previous work, Coulton still knows how to leave people with a smile, ending the album with two new versions of his famous Portal and Portal 2 theme songs.

Producer Kevin Antunes never recontextualizes the original recordings; he favors hits-on-parade medleys, letting the hooks--the melodies, the rhythms--sink in before moving on to the next snippet.

It's a remix album not for fairweather travelers but rather the hardcore Little Monsters, the kind who love every gesture grand or small from Gaga, but it also displays enough imagination to appeal to those listeners who fall into neither camp and are only looking for some darkly elastic dance.

Cagey as ever, the Stones hide which of these are full-fledged outtakes and which are recent refurbishments very well, but ultimately it doesn't matter: this is a tremendous expansion of a classic album by every measure.

This kind of constant drive away from the more watered-down sound of a lot of their post-grunge contemporaries and toward metal is something that allows Five Finger Death Punch to stand out in a genre that's easy to get lost in.

Love: Part 2 winds up as the group's most effective album yet: it channels their '80s hero worship into something propulsive and distinctive.

It may be only four songs long, but Vasquez makes up for its small size by packing even more ominous drones and evil-sounding synths into it.

For all the collective and wonderful helium hysteria to be had, it has to be said that the pre-album release "Moon Jocks N Prog Rocks" does steal the show in the end.

Taken as a whole, Blouse is a more promising debut than a satisfying one, but its standout moments leave listeners wanting more.

Ndegeocello is making some of the finest music of her life.

Radiant Door may not be an essential purchase, but it's both a nice reminder of why Crystal Stilts are so good and a nice placeholder for their next album.

This blend of driving riffage and suffocating relentlessness allows the band to strike a fine balance between freewheeling guitar worship and oppressive gloom.

Scuba has achieved something hard to define with this mix program, and that's part of what makes it so enjoyable.

Little Red Boots is for the most part a triumphant means of overcoming trouble by singing about it.

This is one of those very rare electronica albums that actually rewards deep and repeated listening.

Taken as pieces or as a whole, the album is easily the equal of anything their contemporaries have released and an exhilaratingly chilled-out listen from start to finish that will warm up even the longest winter night.

While Let the Poison Out cleans up their sound a bit, it doesn't sacrifice the laid-back, chirpy, quirkiness that listeners have grown to love.

The Singing Mailman Delivers doesn't do much to rewrite Prine's early history, but it confirms he revealed a remarkable talent as soon as he put his mind to writing songs, and it's an entertaining addition to his catalog for longtime fans.

With such an ambitiously unconventional approach, it's quite an achievement that Ilo Veyou contains far more hits than misses.

Stereo Typical's good-natured swagger marks Rizzle Kicks out as one of the British urban scene's most entertaining new talents.

While it would be an exaggeration to call his music a parody, he often seems to have his tongue in his cheek.

There's no reason why its quietly enchanting qualities can't go on to provide her with the breakthrough outside Scandinavia that she deserves.

A few strong moments don't make a full release succeed.

It's a fitting album that sums up and shines a light on all the things that make/made the band so enthralling.

The connection between the album's title and its contents remains a question mark, but it's befitting of this surprising, deeply inspired debut.

They may never make a record as unhinged and beautiful as Hold on Now, Youngster..., but if they keep making records as tough and exciting as Hello Sadness, Los Campesinos! will always be worth keeping up with.

Diehards and newbies alike will revel in its weird, wild well-roundedness.

Freeclouds has a little more up its sleeve than either a clear break from Tanton's past or a simple extension of it.

Miller's big challenge is that he follows in a long line of suburban college rappers who have thrown up whack mixtapes like they were yesterday's punch bowl, but this memorable debut steps right around that mess and suggests that the kids are not just all right, but all the way live.

It's his most downtempo effort, and all that much more soothing and captivating.

The self-titled conclusion serves as a gentle, appropriate valediction.

While Geronimo! is sometimes a little too playful for its own good, it's still a refreshingly unpretentious and affectionate display of nostalgic retro-pop.

Musically and sonically it's well above average, even if there are three generic cuts in the middle that keep it from rising to the next level.

Get Along isn't the first live set offered up to listeners by the sisterly Canadian crooners Tegan and Sara, but when paired with its deluxe edition DVD, it's certainly their most ornate.

While Take Care's charms may be a little more hidden, with a couple exceptions, than Thank Me Later's were, repeated plays reveal a record that is just as strong and more powerful emotionally.

The benefit of a comp is that it's totally possible, even welcome, to downplay dull lapses like Around the Sun--and, when combined with well-chosen highlights from the band's powerful first two acts, adds up to a thorough narrative of R.E.M.'s entire career.

Camp is like the Drake, Cudi, and Kweli camps all offered their best, but it's really just Glover and his overwhelming bundle of talent, taking indie hip-hop to new levels after spending the day working alongside Chevy Chase.

Though it's not bad by a long shot, (especially on "Get a Grip" and the sweetly drifting "Luck Is There to Be Pushed") Bad Penny is mostly just disappointing.

Your Past Comes Back to Haunt You: The Fonotone Years, 1958-1965 is a massive John Fahey document that was a full decade in the making by Dean Blackwood of Revenant, guitarist Glenn Jones, and Lance Ledbetter of Dust-to-Digital.

Even amidst dissonant notes or loopy time signatures, a catchy hook or two usually surfaced.

This is the best solo record by an indie rock guitarist since Carl Broemel's All Birds Say, proof that Ramsey's career has more than enough horsepower on its own.

The end result is a half-hour of good, giddy fun that leaves you with a slightly strange taste in your mouth, and that's probably just right.

In all, it represents a beautiful set of ambience from one of the form's masters.

Perhaps he could stand to have some knockout singles and perhaps he's a little too comfortable giving the people what they want, but Nichols is always reliable, always likable, and this album is definitely all good.

Even if Crazy Clown Time isn't as accessible as some of the collaborations that arrived shortly before the album, Lynch fans will appreciate it as another example of his ability to put his unmistakable stamp on every art form he attempts.

There's no shame in appealing to a more commercial crowd, and if You Me at Six could have continued to pursue the album's more mature mainstream moments instead of trying to prove their rawk credentials, Sinners Never Sleep would probably have turned out to be a more consistent affair.

There's just enough that's worthwhile on this album to hope that Hank3 doesn't fully abandon this concept, but this is a far cry from what he does best, and even serious doom fans are likely to find this is pretty ordinary.

Producers Shawty Redd, Nottz, and A-Traxx all contribute bottom-heavy stunners while West, Diddy, Juicy J, and Young Jeezy add the right amount of outside influence, making this just a tad more "fun" than your usual casket drop from Clipse.

The result is considerably removed from the country-informed folk that dominated (but never completely encapsulated) her earlier work; it's both her subtlest and jazziest effort to date, certainly sonically but also in its songwriting, which tends more than ever toward long, fluid melodic lines and loose, open-ended structures.

Kinsella's tried-and-true delicately delivered cynicism combined with a new approach to instrumentation is refreshing after all these years.

The most notable thing about The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn, Pt. 1 is its unabashed romanticism, and the album more than serves its purpose as a Twilight-branded wedding playlist.

The Dreamer is a fitting--if not perfect--bookend to one of American popular music's most iconic lives.

These songs never hit their mark as a result, aiming for the relaxed pitch of an afternoon siesta and often sounding closer to a snoozefest instead.

As it is, if you delete the missteps, you can cherry-pick a really strong, really simple '80s pop EP from the remains.

It's rare that that source material is specifically evident while listening; at best it functions on a more energetic, subconscious level, making the typically nebulous sonic nostalgia of the chillwave/hypnagogic pop movement.

A notion that acts as the foundation for the eight cuts on the hypnotic but illuminating Humor Risk.

Noel's High Flying Birds is tasteful, mannered craftsmanship.

While it required only slight modifications to his approach--brighter tones and simpler arrangements, allowing room for singers and MCs--it's still surprising that much of The Vision sounds like an effort to assimilate into commercial airwaves.

Viers' simple, honest delivery helps to keep the mood fun, yet stable and sweet, without the inevitable sugar rush.

It's a quietly satisfying album with a determined fragility that makes it all the more moving.

From its unconventional treatment of electronic music to its emotionally raw songwriting, visiting The Sea of Memories is well worth the journey.

XXX is a bloated album; 19-track albums are a thing of the early millennium past. But this bloat is a gluttonous glory.

It's one of the most consistently satisfying albums of his career, and sounds more like the proper follow-up to the excellent Here Comes the Groom than anything he's made since.

Despite these interesting diversions, Exits & All the Rest is just a bit too straightforward to gain the plaudits of the more experimental Warpaint, but it's still a vibrant record that cleverly recaptures the spirit of their influences while remaining quintessentially Girl in a Coma.

In Animal Tongue is not an easy listen, but it wasn't meant to be. Rather it investigates, explores, and experiments to open-ended conclusions, and to that end, it succeeds magnificently.

While Lost in the Glare is, without question, an instantly recognizable Barn Owl offering and employs their now signature elements, it moves into a welcomed, previously uncharted sonic and psychic terrain.

As a hair metal album, Balls Out is finely crafted and well produced, evoking the glossy sound of the era, but as a joke, it's pretty one-note, so either you're going to get it or it's going to grate on you.

Bieber definitely sounds more enthused by the original songs--some of which resemble everyday numbers with patched-on seasonal references--and a cover of Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas Is You" (featuring Carey herself). The versions of holiday staples are pulled off with varying results.

As far as why it all hangs together so well, credit goes to Wale's talent and his strong personality, which here has grown into an interesting combination of Lil Wayne and Plies, with a little 50 Cent smirk and bit of Drake's phrasing thrown in for good measure.

With Four the Record, she's digging deeper than ever before and finding considerable riches.

Quibbles aside, everything about this package is richly detailed, immensely pleasing, and overall a wonderful experience.

Much of the aptly named Th1rt3en feels vintage, from the familiar political themes on "We the People" and the tightly wound, Dio-esque riffing on "Public Enemy No. 1" to the soft, melodramatic military snare intro of "Never Dead," which eventually explodes into a wicked blast of retro-thrash that feels positively invigorating, not redundant.

[A] rare sophomore outing that not only manages to avoid the slump, but bests its predecessor in the process.

Boyle isn't an interpreter, necessarily, finding new meanings of songs; instead, the songs are pitched toward her specific skills, so there's an inevitable sameness to her albums, as they all consist of slow, pretty versions of songs you know by heart.

Some of the remixes sound like little more than historical curios, but a surprising amount are either vigorous or imaginative and they all underscore how Achtung Baby truly was the first U2 album that could lend itself to these kind of mixes.

Ultimately, Lulu is a brave experiment for both Reed and Metallica, but it's one that falters as often as it succeeds.

The rest of the EP, outside of the brooding "Burying Davy," leans closer to that countrified feel, and while it may come off a little contrived at times, these outtakes will no doubt help to satiate fans until the group reconvenes for album number seven.

While Live Music sometimes feels a little too rambling for its own good, the growth the band shows is even more impressive because it seems so effortless.

After such a lengthy time away, it's admirable that Dolby has returned with such a bold and difficult-to-pigeonhole record, but with its disappointingly flat production, A Map of the Floating City fails to make the most of its abundance of ideas.

A firm step forward on all fronts, Bright and Vivid is a thoroughly engaging listen and establishes Calder as a creative force and pop craftsperson every bit as worthy as her big-deal bandmates.

As an album, Empros shows Russian Circles bringing together everything they've done before into one complete package, compiling the lessons of albums past into one singular vision, and bringing it all together for a new vision of their future.

Is the World Strange or Am I? is indeed a little too strange to achieve the commercial success Jarvis has admitted he craves, but it's an admirably bold statement of intent which is perhaps unlike anything else you'll hear all year.

While Best Intentions doesn't reinvent the wheel, listeners will enjoy spending some more time with We Are the In Crowd.

If you're a fan, it's a classy slice of nostalgia.

She's been in something of a career renaissance ever since the mid-2000s, creating sharp adult pop that's accessible without being commercial, so if fan funding is what's needed to keep her actively recording, this album is a great testament to its potential power.

A brief but powerful statement, Mount Wittenberg Orca brings remarkably creative artists together for a good cause, and ends up bringing out the best in all of them in the process.