Andersson brings a real sense of songcraft to the project, and many of her melodies are appealingly ethereal.

Brotherhood's track listing could easily be quarreled with, but it includes most of the approved highlights from each album, early or old, innovative or orthodox.

There are a few additional moments of greatness, but also a few more tracks on the opposite side--they may make for great background listening, but seem to require altered states to get through while focusing on the music.

Ambitious as some of that may seem, Exit never feels like a show-off record--just a thoughtfully put-together one.

It's pleasant, even comforting, which makes Forth as pure a sequel as possible: it's an album that offers more of the same many years too late, which will be enough for the legions of faithful who have waited to hear all the old characters back together again, yet seems a little pointless for those who no longer remain quite so invested in the band.

The art never gets too over-indulgent and it never gets in the way of the songs.

Add the "Jam on It" sample producer Nottz lays on "Ya Heard," the sultry backing track Scott Storch designed for "Let Us Live," and a superstar guest list that's a mile long, and this scattershot album is easy to recommend despite its flaws.

In spots, it sags, and a couple tracks seem more like sketches than neatly bundled songs, yet it's one of the year's more entertaining and easily enjoyable R&B releases, fronted by someone who does not take herself all that seriously.

All Hope Is Gone as a whole winds up being as bleak and unforgiving as its title.

The crisp, unadorned production--courtesy of Matthew himself, who recorded and mixed this in his home studio--keeps the focus on his brilliant pop hooks, which shine brighter and cleaner here than they have in quite some time.

Power metal may not be the most inventive musical style on the planet, but Dragonforce are making it more exciting than most anyone else has for quite some time.

The Rocky Road is well worthy of being mentioned alongside classic albums by the Dubliners and Planxty, and that's as big a compliment as it could be paid.

The ex-Noise Ratchet founders shift to more rootsy territory with their new band, yielding impressive results.

Motorizer falls short of essential and isn't quite in a class with Motorhead's best late-'70s/early-'80s output, but this album is definitely respectable.

Alias has created his most welcoming and positive dream world on Resurgam, an album where the creaks comfort and the low cloud cover comes off as heavenly.

Even if King winds up returning to his familiar slick, star-studded sound somewhere down the line, having an album as earthily elegant as One Kind Favor in his canon provides a fitting coda for one of the great musical careers of the 20th century.

Cohesive, eclectic, expansive but never ponderous, Cream Cuts proves that Tussle don't have to do something radically different to craft music this exciting.

All of Never Never Love is a satisfying step forward for Pop Levi--a congruent collection of tunes that temper an enjoyable excess of rhetoric with a workman-like adherence to properly serving a hook.

For Fed, [Hayes] recruited everyone from veteran R&B arranger Tom Tom MMLXXXIV to jazz session drummer Morris Jennings to stalwart indie noisemaker Steve Albini to create a record as rich, complex, and ornate as the previous record was simple and spare.

Both youthful and novel--Li was twenty-one upon its release, which may explain both her occasional goofy vocal affectations and the hesitant freshness of her sound--it's hard to pigeonhole but refreshingly easy to enjoy.

Ra Ra Riot sound elated to have finally arrived at this point: the release of their debut, the payoff after a very tough year, and the proof that they're one of 2008's most promising newcomers.

Chemical Chords manages to be even more concisely charming than that album, sacrificing little of Stereolab's distinctive sound for its immediacy.

The musicianship is mature--a jangly, shifting cornucopia of guitar, bass, organs, and drums--but it is practically ignorable behind the caterwauling wail of Johnny Whitney, which takes precedence over all.

You & Me delves deeply into the evocative ballads that have made the band fascinating since "Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone."

The best moments of ...Earth to the Dandy Warhols... rival the Dandys' finest work, and despite some weak spots, it's a giant leap in the right direction.

Oceans Will Rise is a return to form for the Stills, who've earned their merit as an experimental group with a strong knack for pop/rock hooks.

This reverence for Campbell's greatest work is what grounds Meet Glen Campbell, as it shows a deep understanding of what made those recordings work as pop records as well as an understanding of what a terrific interpretive singer Campbell is at his peak.

The Fiery Furnaces' hyperactive creativity keeps them fascinating in concert, on record, and on Remember's one of a kind fusion of those worlds.

Fast Times at Barrington High doesn't go to the hoop with every song, but it scores more than enough points to make it a career highlight, not to mention one of the best emo albums (whatever that means) of 2008.

There may be no recognition of L.A. Style, but in their blissfully ignorant, lazily monotonous sunshine grooves, Shwayze does manage to be all about the style of L.A. in 2008, creating the quintessential record for L.A. sleazeballs.

Ballads have always been his forte, a convenient vehicle for his quivering sensitivity and accidental melodicism, yet it's still startling how slow The Illusion of Progress unfolds, as Staind rarely muster the energy to move beyond midtempo even when they deign to crank up their amps for anthems of mild alienation or vague inspiration.

It's a tight, cohesive record with a subtle but undeniable resonance, a record that Juliana Hatfield always seemed on the verge of delivering but finally has.

Recovery revisits Wainwright's back catalog and finds new meaning in the tunes he wrote as a young man.

His enigmatic lyrics, pastoral West coast melodies, and blissfully androgynous voice rule the roost here.

What is plainer throughout is that someone has finally delivered a follow-up to the Beach Boys' "Friends" album, dwelling on moments and sensibilities that slip past most of us in the normal course of a day.

Even if they're slow to arrive, GZA's full-lengths rarely disappoint. Pro Tools is no different, but with so many divergent projects and experiments from the Clan filling the five previous years, this throwback also proves the crew's original formula still works splendidly.

The bombastic intro and interludes with Keith David could go too, but otherwise this no-answers, gritty ego trip will satisfy his fans while pushing everyone else away even further.

Invisible Cinema is as fine a debut as one is likely to hear in 2008.

Although Strawberry Weed doesn't lodge its melodies into the listener's brain, it still makes a good case for repeated listens.

Alternately blissed-out and ragingly psychedelic, this debut is one of 2008's most promising records.

Here with Me is a cozy and wholly comfortable album, one that begs to be played during rainy days and Sunday afternoons.

Hovering in the shadows comes Apse's Spirit, a mesmerizing album where the shrouded world of Gothic gloom meets the outer stratosphere of space rock.

The Door is a beautifully mysterious and deeply satisfying entry in the ECM canon and a very auspicious debut.

There's every chance that Laura Marling will get lost in the shuffle as the unexpected commercial success of Feist's The Reminder leads major labels to unleash hordes of similarly talented female singer/songwriters, but Alas I Cannot Swim is far better than the average coffee house-endorsed girly pop.

It's painful that this will be the only Royal We record ever. Many of the band's members moved on to other quite good bands (Sexy Kids, Bricolage, Correcto), but the chemistry they had as the Royal We will be hard to replicate.

The key to its success is that it is pitched perfectly between frivolous, disposable pop and meticulous mature craft, so as the Jonas Brothers continue to grow they might wind up losing that sense of fun that is integral to their music, but with this record they hit all the notes just right.

The tunes are old and new, borrowed and blue, but Thomas makes them all her own.

This is an album for Sunday afternoons, for fans of Frank Sinatra and Aaron Copeland, for sophisticates who want music to soothe their minds rather than demand their full attentions.

From the confrontational album title to the cuss words, Berg is working to shake the pop tag and turn it hardcore with a baller stance that isn't so much embarrassing as it is uninteresting.

The unpretentious intelligence and skillful wordplay of Weaver's lyrics go a long way towards making The Ax in the Oak a richly satisfying work for grownup listeners, and the imaginative surroundings Weaver, Deck, and a handful of sympathetic musicians have crafted for these songs only make them stronger and more affecting.

Fasciinatiion clicks enough of the time to make it a step forward from "Wet From Birth," and despite its unevenness, at times it can be fasciinatiing.

The fact that the music does feel relaxed, even when it bears his classicist affectations, does make Conor Oberst markedly different than the music of Bright Eyes, and makes it a worthwhile project--even if it proves to be a detour instead of a new beginning.

It's his signature sound and Harps and Angels captures it sublimely, as the production--a co-credit to Newman's longtime associate Lenny Waronker and his latter-day producer Mitchell Froom--has no fancy accoutrements and he's written another set of quietly wonderful songs.

Girls and Weather loses neither steam nor charm throughout; it's an album for adults who want an excuse to behave like kids again.

Between 'I'm Wit It,' 'Girls,' and a couple other standouts, Lessons and Love cannot be dismissed, but Lloyd will have to really change it up with his fourth album to evade a real holding pattern.

It's a familiar mix of music, to be sure, but Fragile Future also sounds more valid than other emo albums, even if its hooks aren't quite as muscular as those on the band's previous disc.

With Brazilian Girls' sense of wonder and love of musical globe-trotting as strong as ever, New York City is a welcome return to form for this very special group.

The final part finds a midpoint of sorts between the two, with quick, skittering drumming matched by a series of drone and keyboard loops, rhythmic but not explicitly melodic, ending the album on a calmer but no less compelling note and promising quite a lot for the next two entries in the series.

Perfect for a summer day.

It's not the worst thing imaginable to make a nice, pleasant record that wouldn't trouble anyone; it's just that Vandervelde (seemingly) promised more than just a peaceful easy feelin', and Waiting for the Sunrise is an almost complete disappointment in that regard.

The Brooklyn boys maintain their hipster sensibilities and flip between speedy grit and sweetheart pop, with varied results.

You can appreciate the emotion put into The Lord Dog Bird and feel the soul being poured out--but without any variety in the album's sound or any songs that jump out and demand repeat spins, ultimately you're left with a less than satisfying listening experience.

By letting all of his sides surface here, Springfield winds up with a satisfying album, as it gets to his sober nature without abandoning his fizzy gifts.

Fans of System's earlier work will be used to their unique brand of lyricism by now and will be more impressed with the band's ability to make a solid assortment of songs in a toned-down genre. Even with half the members.

This is a solid if flawed first try.

An easy recommendation for fan club members and/or serial killers. Everyone else has two or three better Cooper concepts to devour first.

This album isn't going to win Halstead too much favor critically or commercially, but anyone who holds songcraft, emotional restraint, and melodic grace in high regard should give the peaceful and sincere Oh! Mighty Engine a chance.

Here, he's no longer a stylized, self-conscious innovator, he's a working musician enraptured by making music, and he's so invigorated by creation it's hard not to get sucked in as well.

Although it shares superficial sonic similarities with his other records, 22 Dreams is really unlike any of Weller's other albums, as it's rich in sound and feeling, possessing a shimmering dreamy quality. It's an album to get lost in.

The utter zeal and conviction with which they play are often breathtaking, even if they don't leave room for much subtlety or humor, and can be more than a little exhausting for listeners who are not as impassioned as ¡Forward, Russia! so clearly are.

Partie Traumatic is a very good debut that manages to earn a huge chunk of the hype that was thrown willy-nilly in the band's direction.

Polished instead of rough, thoughtful instead of brash, Donkey isn't an outright failure, but it certainly is an odd and sometimes disappointing move from a band that didn't necessarily need to change its direction.

The sound effects that link the songs and clumsy tape edits seem a tad forced,and some of the titles and lyrical themes seem recycled from We All Belong. That being said, Fate is still a thoroughly enjoyable album from a fine band.

While Breakout isn't as much of a breakthrough as it could be, it still moves Miley closer to an identity and career outside of Hannah.

While this set is saturated with hunger and ambition, it's also confident and sophisticated--the album sounds as if they meant every word but had a great time making it.

Something for All of Us... manages to connect without really saying much, which is tough to pull off, even for a veteran of one of the underground rock league's most beloved teams.

This collection of their singles released between March and September 2007 (plus three harder-to-find tracks) is an entrancing introduction to the band, and it stokes the fires of anticipation for their first full-length album.

There isn't any filler here; it's all the aural ignition of a gasoline bomb going off in your ears.

This is ultimately an album that is catnip to those favoring a general sound and approach and otherwise will pass the time for most anyone else--no bad thing, yet nothing remarkable either.

Other songs like the sea-shanty-goes-Jacques Brel 'Italialaisella Laivalla' and the more openly indie-pop 'Tytto Tanssii,' with its guitar lope and synth-horn break floating over a softly rumbling cloud of melancholic, echoing textures, further add to the understated but enjoyable variety of a fine album.

A Love Extreme is, as its title suggests, an album of sonic extremes, but those willing to sit through both discs will find a number of eccentric, engaging songs, particularly on side two.

Stay Positive is the most sophisticated and erudite THS have ever sounded, and that's a mixed blessing.

Object 47 highlights Wire's pop credentials, but the band hasn't lost its edge.

A couple tracks might sonically resemble inferior versions of years-old tracks that helped make Nas a hip-hop deity and, nearly ten years after Nas was first accused of selling out, he might still sound a little awkward over radio-friendly productions. But the MC has never made an album as engrossing or as necessary as this one.

Musically, Mellencamp seems to have been listening closely to the first five Bob Dylan albums, paying more attention to the first of them, the largely traditional, folk-blues-styled Bob Dylan, than the last, the folk-rock "Bringing It All Back Home."

Dismantle, reconstruct, then split, and The Greatest Story Ever Told earns decent marks--it's just hard not to focus on the handful of cuts that point to what could have been.

As always, that easy touch is Travis' greatest strength, as it gives the best songs authenticity and makes the weaker songs palatable--and as Around the Bend is a fairly strong set of songs, it's easy to enjoy Travis' gentle authority.

Mar Dulce has to be counted as a success, certainly because the combined effect of songwriting, performance, and production sounds of a piece, with few seams showing.

The sound is terrific, the presentation is handsome, the sound and selection are amazing; and negotiations with musicians are not done on colonial terms.

Here, they [Beck and Danger Mouse] deliver enough substance and style to make Modern Guilt an effective dosage of 21st century paranoia.

Some of ¿Como Te Llama?'s individual songs are stronger than the material on Hammond's debut, but as a whole, it's a shade less engaging than "Yours to Keep"--though it's still enjoyable enough to please most Strokes fans.

It's a flat-out joy.

Exit Strategy of the Soul isn't just an experiment that succeeds, it's one of Sexsmith's strongest and most affecting works to date, and it's truly a pleasure to hear.

Instead of changing their sound to accommodate a wider palette of sounds, they wisely chose to incorporate them into their aesthetic. It's an inspired move that will help them keep their old fans and still allow the duo to progress musically.

As with most endeavors in uncharted territory, some songs miss the mark (an unnecessary ambient keyboard instrumental "Flush," for instance), but the straightforward beasts like "Billy Fish," "The Smiling Cobra," and the majestic title song "Nude with Boots" showcase the Melvins at the top of their game, while the lumbering brutality of "It Tastes Better Than the Truth" and "The Savage Hippy" shows that their warped sensibilities are still intact and that they're far from softening, even after almost 25 years in the game.

Despite its faults, it is one of the most unique albums released by a major label in 2008.

Poetry and music are so closely aligned anyway that at their best, they become one. This is a stunning, awe-inspiring, love-soaked example.

Though a few songs border on being filler, The Black Ghosts is still a promising debut.