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.

Far from being a throwaway side project, this unique album is as refreshing as a gapper to right center, providing, of course, it's your team up at the plate.

Well worth the wait, Blood, Looms and Blooms offers more proof of why Leila has been hailed by Gilles Peterson, Aphex Twin, and Björk since she started making music.

It's too bad such a fine record has to end with a misfire, but you can just hit stop before you get there and be completely satisfied with the really good album Son, Ambulance have crafted.

Skeleton is one of the more interesting releases of the summer, and proves that Abe Vigoda are more than worthy of joining their peers in the spotlight.

The album is still enjoyable and damn catchy in spots — but knowing as much as we do about this talented trio, it seems like it could have been so much better.

It's ideal music for headphones, where the clever production can reveal all of its layers.

Despite a few stumbles, Identified achieves its goal: it anticipates that Hudgens' fans will outgrow "High School Musical" soon enough, and gives her a better chance of staying relevant to them as they move on to other kinds of pop music.

Even with its wobbly mix of yesterday, today, a better tomorrow, T.O.S. is much closer to classic than failure and should reassure fans this slow-moving tank is pointed in the exactly right direction.

All in all, Forgiven proves that Los Lonely Boys are around for the long haul, making records that separate their sound from their influences, and further establishes their identity as one of America's premier roots bands.

Dirty Pretty Things move their music forward with this album, but they've sacrificed their clarity to achieve that.

There's no evidence Three 6 had a fully formed "Most Known Unknown"-styled album in them either, so consider the uneven Last 2 Walk a fair and necessary placeholder effort with a bit of "back to basics" thrown in to satisfy the faithful.

What really puts the album over the top as something else is not just its ideas-stuffed brevity (46 minutes in its original form), but its material not made explicitly for the club.

After a while the tracks all begin to sound the same, disco beat with Seal style R&B vocals, no bad thing but nothing much original and nothing to come close to the single 'Black And Gold.'

On Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust you can really hear the human hearts behind the wall of sound, and while the emotional impact is on a smaller scale, somehow it is even more affecting.

Real Animal is an album about life--both as survival and as the faces and moments that fill our days on this Earth. How many artists could make two masterpieces in a row that are so different?

Watson Twins' first proper album, but Fire Songs at once confirms the promise of their earlier EP and their work with Jenny Lewis while staking out a stronger and more complex identity of their own, and hopefully it's the first of several personal and compelling albums from the siblings.

Motley Crue has been trumpeting their hedonism for so long and so loudly that it's become more of a caricature than a way of life, and while Saints of Los Angeles is the best thing they've laid to tape since their codpiece heydays, it's more of a walk down memory lane/sunset strip than a legitimate call to arms.

Party Intellectuals is easily Ribot's most fun album to date and one of his best.

Fans of the first two albums might find it difficult to adjust, but Digi Snacks brings that "through the looking glass" feeling and offers a murky world unto itself, one where Wu-Tang Batmans and blaxploitation anime seem entirely possible.

Jayne and company do manage to pull off a few tracks that capture the old fire and brimstone of classic LAL, but the shiny textures and generic songwriting are too much to overcome, rendering Holy a disappointing addition to the band's previously strong catalog.

Superhero Brother will probably sound pretty good as background at a party, but there's not a lot of meat on these bones.

Spaced over 17 tracks and 70 minutes, it's a rich listen, demanding headphones but rewarding the investment.

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea reveals more poetic, as well as playful, layers with each listen--and above all, underscores what an inviting songwriter Berman is, whether he's taking a darker or lighter approach.

The greatest thing Coldplay may have learned from Eno is his work ethic, as they demonstrate a focused concentration throughout this tight album--it's only 47 minutes yet covers more ground than "X&Y" and arguably "A Rush of Blood to the Head"--that turns Viva la Vida into something quietly satisfying.

It has that same slightly unnerved but ultimately comforting effect, and like Neon Golden, you might want to take it everywhere with you, even when you can only replay it in your mind.

All in all, At Mount Zoomer is a remarkable achievement, and another soon-to-be classic from Wolf Parade.

As it stands, A Thousand Shark's Teeth is beautiful, more than a little insular, and ultimately intriguing for anyone willing to listen closely.

The problem is not with Katy's gender-bending, it's that her heart isn't in it; she's just using it to get her places, so she sinks to crass, craven depths that turn One of the Boys into a grotesque emblem of all the wretched excesses of this decade.

It's not that the Offspring sound behind the times on their eighth album, Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace--it's that they sound disconnected from it.

Beautiful, sprawling, peaceful, wise, and as tenderly romantic as the world is round, these Dennis Wilson gems are as revelatory as they are stunning.

The songs themselves are hit or miss, with the emphasis falling on the latter, due mostly to an over-reliance on three-chord, midtempo filler, but as is the case with nearly every Priest offering, when they're on they're dead on.

As it stands, this one just squeaks by on the power of some very good songs and their typically energetic performances.

At times, the album's extended jams get a bit wearing, but Ice Cream Spiritual! shows that Ponytail's music is still equal parts challenging, melodic, and fun.

Teddy Thompson has taken a more user-friendly approach on A Piece of What You Need, but he hasn't sold his soul or lost what makes him special along the way, and this is a clever, adventurous, and thoroughly engaging exercise in smart pop that's as thoughtful as it is pleasurable.

Strength in Numbers turns out to be a nice comeback, particularly during the tracks that find that sweet spot between bubbling electronics and stadium Brit-rock.

A beyond stellar debut in both quality and originality.

Supergrass come crashing back to life with Diamond Hoo Ha, an album every bit as cheerfully gaudy and vulgar as its title.

The Charlatans are taking risks again without losing their identity.

Evil Urges ultimately ends the same way it began--with a willingness to explore, to challenge, to poke and prod at My Morning Jacket's past work while creating something entirely new.

Off to Business doesn't break much new ground for Pollard, but what is different is that he's clearly put a great deal more thought and care into this disc than anything he's put out since From a Compound Eye, and the result is an album that sounds like an album rather than the latest bunch of tunes Pollard banged together, and that makes all the difference in the world.

It's a lot like "Jagged Little Pill," but musically this is far closer to the muddled mystic worldbeat of "Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie," thanks in large part to her collaboration with Guy Sigsworth, best known for his productions with Björk and Madonna.

The surfaces of this album may seem less bold than the albums that immediately preceded it, but All I Intended to Be is the work of a consummate artist who is still reaching out to new places even when she points to her creative history.

Filled with bold, entertaining wordplay and plenty of well-executed, left-field ideas, Tha Carter III should be considered as a wild, somewhat difficult child of Weezy's magnum opus in motion, one that allows the listener an exhilarating and unapologetic taste of artistic freedom.

Like a lot of second albums that aren't exactly a slump, Here We Stand is more accomplished than dynamic, but there are still quite a few enjoyable moments here.

In Rubin's hands, Seeing Things plays like a songwriter playing his newest songs in your living room--a seductive feeling that no Wallflowers record ever captured, which is an excellent reason for Dylan to step out on his own.

Despite all the weight, those songs still have a way of seeming as easy and carefree as the moments when N.E.R.D. are simply bashing away (sometimes over agitated drum'n'bass), blowing off steam, and talking ridiculous nonsense. Whether taken as a diversion of throwaway fun or a deeper (or peculiar) look into what makes these men tick, the album succeeds.

While "Real Life" was so fully realized that it seemed to have a life of its own, To Survive feels more like songs written by somebody than something that materialized because it had to.

The Dream isn't just produced well but also programmed well, only slowing down after 73 minutes to a gradual halt on the dreamy underwater backbeats of 'Codes' and the beatless closer 'Orbisonia.'

Sloan have solved their problem by giving each member room to roam, and they're winding up with records that are rich emotionally and musically, illustrating that it is possible for a classicist guitar pop band like Sloan to grow with each passing year.

Loverly is the only reason to avoid imposing a moratorium on the very tired standards genre that has become the bane of jazz in recent years. It cannot be recommended highly enough.

The Hard Way, his debut for Hear Music, is a tad tougher--the horns are more prominent and sharper, Hunter's guitar has more bite to it, and the rhythms cut deeper--and quicker; at times Hunter veers closer to soul-rock than he has in the past, but he's still working well within his favorite genre.

The compelling three-quarters of Definition of Real that seems to have crawled out of the gutter proves that Plies is best off when he does it the ski-mask way.

Loaded with 17 tracks, it's an entertaining and fitting addition to the Warp catalog that makes for some highly hypnotic video arcade/coffee parlor mood music.

The McGregors are ultimately at their best when their dynamic isn't overpowered by too many musical ideas.

This is a graceful set, lit with pretty melodies, subtle instrumentation, and lovely singing from both bandmembers. As introductions go, it's a charmer.

Compared to "Hello Young Lovers," Exotic Creatures does sound a little starker at points, but it's often also subtler and slyer, tempering bombast in favor of sprightly but also uneasy melodies on songs like 'The Director Never Yelled "Cut'"

Beautiful Lie is an invigorating and frequently gorgeous affair, essential for old fans and a good place to start for newcomers.

They're a singles band at heart, though, and they wear out their welcome all too quickly on We Started Nothing.

It's mildly disappointing that the Futureheads' first independently released music sounds more conventional than what they issued on other labels, but This Is Not the World is still a solidly enjoyable album on its own terms.

The problem is, because the songs are so dense, and the lyrics nearly unintelligible, it becomes difficult to differentiate Exiting Arm from the band's other work, and because of that, makes the album a bit of a disappointment.

Velocifero isn't as dramatic a step forward as Ladytron's other albums.

A cheerfully restless record, one where all the parts don't fit and it's better because of it, as it has a wild, willing personality, suggesting that Weezer is comfortable as a band in a way they never quite have been before.

At its heart it's just a collection of songs, but it's that rare thing for a songwriter: it works as a piece of writing and a sterling pop album of its own.

He's a better vocalist and more charismatic than most of the dullards who followed in his wake--but this is still deliberately tepid music, more concerned about appearances than hooks or drama.

So it has the form and feel, but the devil is in the details, the songs that never quite hook and sometimes serve up some patently absurd moments, usually in the form of her overheated lyrics.