The joy and silliness are enough to keep the record out of sleazy Har Mar Superstar territory, but it also means that there is a serious lack of substance on the record.

Despite the ever-present irony, the songs never feel insincere and the record is inherently strong throughout, making it a solid start to their career.

Matt Costa's sophomore effort, Unfamiliar Faces, finds the singer/songwriter delving into similar territory to his 2006 debut, "Songs We Sing," crafting hummable, somewhat intricate AM pop-influenced tracks.

A winsome and not entirely stable treat.

Here was a chance to show that the music was worthy, too. With a singing style in the cockney accent of Lily Allen or Kate Nash, he differentiated himself from these singers by actually playing the guitar himself, with mixture of skiffle and ska

The Portrait Is Finished and I Have Failed to Capture Your Beauty blends influences from two generally antithetical musical subgenres--hippie psych-folk and '80s U.K. art pop--into a languid, low-key whole that's perfect for both lazy, cozy lie-ins and middle-of-the-night headphone listening.

The 14 songs here seem stronger upon each listen, with the songs soon seeming indelible.

It's a double-sided hook that clears the murkiness from the remaining five tracks, while simultaneously improving the first half (especially tracks like 'California Girls' and 'Please Stop Dancing') when spun for a second or third time.

Liverpool 8 is a relaxed, amiable collection of friendly pop tunes: it's nothing too flashy and it has no one tune that calls attention to itself, but it's a well-constructed, casually charming pop record.

This is a significant improvement over "The Love Experience" in every respect--somehow displaying an increase in both modesty and ambition, as well as offering a more refined yet bolder set of material.

What impresses the most about Made of Bricks are her deft sketches of deteriorating relationships.

The newly varied arrangements, moods, and textures of this album, from the mournful piano-led cover of the Kinks' 'I Go to Sleep' through the horn-based R&B swing of 'Electric Bird' to the sarcastic bounce of 'The Girl You Lost to Cocaine,' make Some People Have Real Problems Sia's most engrossing and satisfying album yet.

Angels of Destruction! is an album that brims with joy, rage, and adventure, and deserves your attention.

She has been able to do what few others before her have: cater to her crossover audience without losing the essence of what she really is and where she came from, and so all of Growing Pains, from its upbeat beginning to its reflective, personal ending (though the last track, 'Come to Me [Peace]' is the only real miss on the entire album), doesn't seem forced or calculated.

Even considering the over-abundance of elaboration on all fronts, it's a credit to Lupe that he has made an album that cannot be processed after one or two listens, and if you have the time, its inscrutability turns into mere complexity.

Alone will stand as an idiosyncratic gem in his catalog, showcasing him at his eccentric best.

Whether they love it or hate it. It is a departure from previous releases and it does focus on melody and guitars and strings, but it is also lush and well-crafted and smart and addictive.

In stretches, it's perfectly entertaining, yet most of it goes in one ear and out the other, not leaving much in the memory.

As on their first two classic full-lengths, Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo display excellent crowd control, pacing the record well, spacing the hits, and building the mood like the good crowd-pleasers they are.

Carnival, Vol. 2 strives to give the immigration problem a face, turning those thousands of marchers seen on the news into a thousand personal stories of struggle and hope. It does so while pulsating with life and displaying an unabashed love of music that's rich, daring, and delightful.

"Misstep" is certainly a word too harsh for The Big Doe Rehab, which is more "uneventful" than "wrong."

ADD is certainly one of the more interesting AmIdol-related records, but so much commotion without construction is ultimately as forgettable as Jordin's pageant-winner trifle, and perhaps a little more tiring to get through, too.

So while the performance isn't perfect, particularly toward the end of the show (where, after two hours of performing swing tunes and jazz standards, Wainwright is understandably low on steam), it's still nice to hear the singer in his element, crooning about dinging trolleys and zinging heartstrings with flamboyancy that only he can muster.

M.A.D.E. is Scarface doing everything right, delivering those cold, hardcore rhymes over uncomplicated, soulful beats.

The Boatlift [is] a fun floor-filler, but just not up to Pitbull's usual standards.

Winehouse's record has the feeling of being allowed to grow on its own--without being meddled with and fussed over.

On Idol, all this unformed youthfulness was endearing, but on this debut she just seems green, not quite ready for the big leagues she's been pushed into.

These eight songs may not be able to be covered by anybody else, but they are wonderfully constructed, beautifully textured, and exquisitely played.

While not all of the remixes hit these heights, overall it's a fun set, and a good complement to the eclecticism of D-Sides' first disc.

Even with the amount of expectation-lowering context heavy on the mind, Free at Last sounds like a very strong follow-up.

While the balancing act between the Hives' new and old approaches is a little lopsided, making this album less amazing than "Tyrannosaurus Hives," The Black and White Album should satisfy most fans while giving them a few challenging moments to chew on, too.

While Duran Duran have worked steadily since their 1993 comeback, "The Wedding Album," they haven't always sounded as stylish and creatively tuned-in as they do on 2007's Red Carpet Massacre.

It's an album of its time: it offers extravagance in the guise of self-help, which can be alluring in doses--especially those bizarre blues-rockers--but it's just too much of a very expensive yet not particularly tasteful thing.

System goes down smooth, even if it's rather strange that it is so nostalgic for the pre-Clinton '90s, but this is so much a production piece that, apart from the acoustic 'Rolling,' the only song that stands outside of the sheer sonic gloss is 'Wedding Day,' a genuinely odd piece of kitsch duet with Heidi herself.

And so even though As I Am is a flawed work--a little too poppy, a little too clichéd--it is also indicative of what Keys can and will do, and that she is someone, thanks to her curiosity, intelligence, and natural talent, who will be able to mature and grow for years to come

Sawdust does indeed contain some moments of grand pomp, but its scattershot nature works against the band as it winds up emphasizing the lingering question from "Sam's Town," that the group has a hell of a lot of ideas but they just don't know what the hell to do with them.

It can be inaccessible and terrifying all at once, but in a genre overly saturated with formulaic groups, Ire Works is a true standout.

The material tends to work best when they sound relatively relaxed, as opposed to when it is obvious that they are trying very hard to honor the originals while being over-demonstrative with their obviously gifted voices.

With Intoxication, Shaggy has once again found that perfect balance of slick and streetwise, and added career-defining single number three as the cherry on top.

This is a very good Jay-Z album. He is, for the most part, doing what he has done before: what he does best.

Hvarf/Heim isn't the album to mark a musical departure for Sigur Rós.

I-Empire is an easier record to like than "We Don't Need to Whisper," as it marks a very small, very tentative progression toward DeLonge realizing that he can expand his sonic and emotional horizons without abandoning the pop songcraft that remains his greatest strength

Smoke never sounds dated or rehashed--instead, it's a fresh, consistently creative, and consistently listenable debut.

If you can appreciate the style of dubstep employed by Burial, it's easy to fall head over heels for Untrue, an album on which there are absolutely no mainstream-crossover concessions, no ego trips, and no willful stylistic variation--an album where the music, a singular style of it, takes center stage with no distractions or sideshows, where there's never the urge to skip to the next track, because they're all part and parcel of the greater whole.

Blackout is state-of-the-art dance-pop, a testament to skills of the producers and perhaps even Britney being somehow cognizant enough to realize she should hire the best, even if she's not at her best.

While their willingness to experiment is admirable, despite the fact that they've gone overboard with their overdubs, the overabundance of studio polish leaves one to wonder if it's not because the songs just aren't as strong this time around.

The album is savvier still, crafted to evoke the spirit and feel of the Eagles' biggest hits.

Backstreet Boys don't have any songs that will lift them out of the adult contemporary world--but the audience who has turned from teens to adults with them will likely enjoy its easy sound, as there is nothing bad here. There's just nothing great, either.

Dirt Farmer is a hard-edged but compassionate and full-hearted set of roots music from a master of the form, and it's a welcome, inspiring return to form for Levon Helm after a long stretch of professional and personal setbacks.

It may take multiple spins for a few songs to really find their footing with fans, but those people will surely be rewarded handsomely in the end.

Teenager can stand as the group's crowning glory to date.

a few songs that lag a bit, this is easily Babyshambles' best work yet.

This doesn't make for an album that holds together thematically the way other latter-day Neil albums do, but its mess is endearing.

the album is simple ear candy for those who haven't studied the band's previous releases, and sweet resolution for those who can spot the references to older songs (specifically 'Blood Red Summer') and former riffs ('The Crowing').

Sound and feel do mean a lot, but country records really survive on the strength of their songs, and the remarkable thing about Carnival Ride is that it's stronger song for song than Some Hearts, some of this due to Carrie herself, who bears four songwriting credits here, often in conjunction with some permutation of Steve McEwan and Hillary Lindsey, who pen a bunch of other tunes here.

It's an ambitious egotistical solo release, and one with the chops to pull it all off. The well placed spaces and lithe textural moments of delicate instrumental engagement and interlude prevent Elect the Dead from going by in a blur.

La Cucaracha is the sound of Ween cutting loose, reveling in the lower budget and expectations an indie label brings, and playing music that simply sounds good.

A more electronic, better built, and altogether better deal than "Monsters," thanks mostly to the singer and-don't-you-forget-to-mention songwriter's better sense of self.

What seems to be an unlikely pairing in the duo of former -- and future apparently--Led Zeppelin vocalist Robert Plant and bluegrass superstar Alison Krauss is actually one of the most effortless-sounding pairings in modern popular music.

Bemis may be seeking to defend the emo genre, but his album instead illustrates the difference between run-of-the-mill emo--which, indeed, comprises most of the genre's output--and the imaginative, skillful tunes that flourish here. The only major downside is the album's length.

Things are decidedly darker this time around; although his music has always been psychedelic, Raposa's In the Vines aligns itself more with a bad trip than lazy, woozy-eyed stoner fare.

Crucially, all these nods to Blanche's influences end up enhancing the band's uniqueness; rooted equally in the traditional and more experimental sides of Americana, country, and rock, Little Amber Bottles expands what a Blanche album can be, and it's a joy to hear.

Nice to listen to and vaguely uplifting, but ultimately empty on the inside.

Underworld never sound particularly tired on Oblivion with Bells. Granted, the music is less innovative than before, and also more quiet, which makes Hyde's vocals more critical than they've ever been.

Make Sure They See My Face, is a much more cohesive record, one that may have an easier time making it onto MTV and mainstream radio.

Examining classical elements is a novel concept, but spreading that concept throughout four EPs, two double-disc sets, and two record releases does little more than dilute an otherwise strong set of songs.

Fans of the frenzied early R.E.M. rock & roll will find this too anthemic--but this big, big sound on R.E.M. Live speaks to the band's core strengths in a way no post-Bill Berry studio album does.

In Rainbows will hopefully be remembered as Radiohead's most stimulating synthesis of accessible songs and abstract sounds, rather than their first pick-your-price download.

There are interesting moments here, but they're fleeting, crying out for a bit of the deliberate craft of Blondie's comeback albums, which may be predictable but at least they're focused, which makes for easier listening than this long 17-track slog of sound.

It's thoughtful and fun and sophisticated, utterly alluring, another fantastic success by Zach Condon.

It's nothing more than modest music for mellow good times, but it's lively enough to be fleeting fun, with enough good tunes for a mild party, preferably one that's held at home.

Widow City's major accomplishment is how it captures the band's live power and sheds some of their mannered studio sound. It rocks hard, and often.

Her voice is too sweet and girlish to command, her melodies mellifluous but not grabbing--but Heroes & Thieves flows easily, and it's a nice return to the strengths of her debut.

Rimes illustrates her range as a singer along with some true strength as a writer, and they help make Family a canny blend of the commercial and the confessional--an album that feels heartfelt, yet is as accessible and enjoyable as her best records.

Fans of "Blackberry Way"-era Move, Berlin-era Bowie, late-period Of Montreal, and the Danielson Famile will eat this up like the candy it is.

A sophisticated, mature, and altogether superior follow-up.

Night Falls Over Kortadela is witty, pretty, silly, and wise; and filled with instantly memorable melodies, thrilling moments of surprise in the arrangements, and laugh-out-loud lyrics.

While a few songs put the "meh" back in melodramatic ('Walking Away,' 'This Is the End'), This Is Forever is full of catchy songs that improve on the band's first album.

The music isn't as serious: splashy and silly though it may be, at least it gets the basic sound right, even if it's way too polished and precise.

More immediately accessible and warm than "Cuckooland," more ambitious than "Shleep," Comicopera, in three acts, is the end result of Robert Wyatt looking around and examining the craziness and wild unpredictability in real life in 2007.

There are more than a few bright spots, but unfortunately, this is one of Enon's slightest and most uneven albums

If not particularly important, We Are the Pipettes is both witty and filled with ear-catching melodies.

After a strong start, though, the album gets a bit flat, with some songs like 'One Mile Below' sounding dramatic enough but also too reminiscent of past Banshees/Creatures highlights to truly stand out.

Magic is bright and punchy, a digital-age production through and through, right down to how each track feels as if it were crafted according to its own needs instead of the record as a whole.

It's as gorgeous a collection as "Bare," and pop music should be so lucky as to have more of this kind of thing out in the world.

Even though Poison Trees loses some steam toward its conclusion, its maturity sets Dashboard Confessional back on track.

Aside from the occasional flourish of their post-punk gothic past, most of the record is the dirtiest and heaviest hard rock they've recorded since the '80s.

There's a real fire to his writing here, turning Revival into a missive as immediate, effective, and telling as Neil Young's "Living with War."

The good bits can get lost between the production and falsettoed harmonies. Which is too bad, because Seward has talent, a talent that definitely appears on the album, and perhaps enough of it to put him where he and his label want.

Canada's greatest contribution to Americana since Blue Rodeo have been consistently topping themselves with each new album, and their sixth, New Seasons, is another triumph.

That's the magic and power of Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings: their ability to convey passion and pain, regret and celebration, found in the arrangements and the tail ends of notes, in the rhythms and phrasing, and it is exactly that which makes 100 Days, 100 Nights such an excellent release.

"It's fine if we are by our side," Genders sings, which, despite the triteness of the statement, provides a nice ending to the record, lighter and breezier, balancing the concern with enjoyment, and making Good Arrows a very complete album indeed.

It rivals "Dance Hall at Louse Point" for its willingness to challenge listeners, but it's far removed from "Uh Huh Her," which was arguably more listenable but a lot less remarkable. In fact, this may be Harvey's most undiluted album yet.

The Foos can sometimes feel like a bit of a chore if they lean too heavily in one direction--as they do here, where despite the conscious blend of acoustic and electric tunes, the rockers weigh down Echoes more than they should, enough to make this seem like just another Foo Fighters album instead of the consolidation of strengths that it was intended to be.

The Shepherd's Dog goes a long way towards validating all the attention I&W have been getting; it's their best, most diverse and listenable record yet as Beam and co. take another leap away from the lo-fi one dude in a bedroom beginnings of the group.

Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon is many things--perhaps too many things, but its successes outnumber its failures, and it essentially solves the problems inherent in confining a freeform singer to time signatures and arrangements and rhythms imposed by outsiders.

The album is mostly about emotion and expressing emotion, and finding the right driving piano hooks and reverbing guitar chords to enhance such feelings. All of which means that Beyond the Neighbourhood is not particularly extraordinary.

Washington Square Serenade ultimately sounds a bit less focused than its immediate predecessors.