The key to the album's potency and freshness is its differences from In My Own Words.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend would have been impressive if it was just a showcase of her strengths as a singer or as a songwriter, but since it is both, it's simply stunning, a breakthrough for Lambert and one of the best albums of 2007, regardless of genre.

Snakes & Arrows is one of the tightest conceptual records the band has ever released.

As good as the atmospheric heartache of the first half of 5:55 is, it's on the second half, when Gainsbourg and her crew stretch out a bit, that the album really gets interesting.

It employs all his strengths as a writer of lyrics and music and stretches the canvas of his colorful if sparsely arranged tapestry.

Full of slow burning passion and emotion, Twelve is magnificent.

On [the] debut, it was possible hear all the ways they were similar to their predecessors, but here it's possible to hear all the ways Arctic Monkeys is a unique, vibrant band and that's why Favourite Worst Nightmare is its own way more exciting than the debut.

Dumb Luck isn't quite as cohesive as Dntel's debut was, but it is beautiful and carefully crafted enough to show that none of Tamborello's successes are flukes.

They've given up some of the whimsy and trippiness that marked their first two releases, but they've gained direction.

We'll Never Turn Back is the kind of album we need at the moment, one that doesn't flinch from the tradition but doesn't present it as a museum piece either.

What it does has pretty much been done before -- but it's done well, and done right, and in the end, it's successful.

Porcupine Tree makes a triumphant return to experimental, non-linear style with 2007's Fear of a Blank Planet.

True, this is far from deep but Under the Skin proved that a deep Avril is a dull Avril. The Best Damn Thing, in contrast, builds on every one of her bratty strengths which makes for ridiculously catchy pop - the kind of music that provides a soundtrack for teens and guilty pleasures for everyone else.

There's an air of sloppy experimentation, of demos and B-sides and other things that probably won't interest more than the heartiest fan.

Year Zero is the finest Nine Inch Nails recording since Downward Spiral. Its songs are memorable, beautifully constructed and articulated.

What At the End of Paths Taken means for the Cowboy Junkies: it's like a renaissance.

Though it may not be flawless, it's pretty satisfying nonetheless.

While the sound of pure snarl and glee is what melts the speaker cabinets the most, the overdriven menace of most these songs doesn't undermine their worth as songs.

The band's fullest and most developed record to date.

23 is mysterious and modern, with an artfully strange beauty that is more memorable than perfection.

The Adventures of Ghosthorse and Stillborn's densely packed sounds and ideas are a lot to process, but they're what makes this album rewarding on repeated listens.

Anyone who likes their indie pop with a full order of mystery and drama, hold the pretension, will treasure this dark and enchanting album.

For those who find themselves lingering on the fringes after her debut, There's No Home is the greeting card to dive in with both ears and get your ears drenched in pleasure.

It's an awesome thing, this album, and anyone, virtually anyone who encounters it will be in some way moved by the impure music it contains.

The album's a wonderful step forward from an already strong foothold, theatrical without being overdone, introspective without being saccharine, and makes for an excellent piece of work.

Even if it isn't as immediate as the prime of Pulp, it's a richly nuanced, complicated album that finds Jarvis near the top of his craft as a writer and record maker.

It's sturdy, well-written power pop, but it falls prey to some of the faults of craftsmanlike pop -- mainly, it's possible to hear the craft behind the pop instead of just getting sucked into the sugar rush of the melodies.

The general move away from strong, hooky choruses to a focus on expansive, intricate and percussive arrangements may challenge casual and even some longtime fans of the band's catchy, Southern garage rock twang.

While it's nice to have another Mary Chain record, what makes the record even better is the presence of Linda Reid.

Throbbing Gristle... no longer sound frightening, disturbing, or, for the most part, even interesting?

On Dignity she makes some serious headway into turning into a mature recording artist, which makes this an effective, strangely endearing album.

It's not that any of these tracks are bad: Ozomatli is comprised of talented enough musicians, and have been doing it for long enough now, that they're able to pretty much successfully pull off anything they try, but these songs move so far from the sociopolitical salsa on which they created themselves that it's almost hard to recognize them as from the same band.

[It] would be more accurately titled Timbaland Presents Slight Confusion or Timbaland Presents an Uneven Mess.

The density of the Twilight Sad's sound evokes wide open spaces, yet the louder they are, the more intimate they sound.

An enjoyable next step for the Academy Is..., this album shows that the guys are still growing, but maybe just starting to figure themselves out.

It's a little uneven and definitely not the reinvention of music as we know it, but Myths of the Near Future is a strong enough debut to survive a level of hype that has crushed other bands, and enjoyable enough to return to when the hype dies down.

The way Reformation fights importance with such enthusiasm and muscle is what makes it such a fascinating album.

While the results follow the melodic template that Phillips has made his own since his work with Grant Lee Buffalo, listening to Strangelet confirms the man sounds as good as ever and remains plenty imaginative.

Whatever snotty humor they once had has calcified into smug sanctimony, rendering this a slick, stylized, stiff affair whose brief signs of life... only put the shortcomings of the rest of this turgid mess in stultifying relief.

Upon first listen, Saltbreakers feels significantly less chilly than 2005's sparse Year of Meteors, but further spins reveal a dark core that radiates warmth only intermittently.

As admirable as Life in Cartoon Motion's eclecticism is, it could use more focus.

[A] well-built and surprisingly diverse album.

Let It Go was well worth the wait and McGraw is still at the top of the heap.

As big and as diverse as the guest list is, the album hangs and flows effortlessly.

He can focus on the serious, the sentimental, or the fun side of life when he needs to, but he does it all without seeming like he's forcing out a persona.

Even if this is familiar ground, an album so tight in theme and feel is refreshing in an era where most lyricists invite anybody and everybody.

What makes Brett Anderson succeed as solo debut is that it truly presents Anderson on his own, willing to sound different, quieter than he did when in a band, willing to open his heart without regard for consequences.

Compared to the first LCD Soundsystem album, Sound of Silver is less silly, funnier, less messy, sleeker, less rowdy, more fun, less distanced, more touching.

Too often it seems as if Modest Mouse plays it safe on We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank.

It's a lean, potent work, and even if it's not one of Low's most superficially pleasant collections of songs, it's certainly among their most necessary ones.

Yet although his mixture of politics, heart and intelligence with taut guitars and a sweet falsetto will presumably be engaging forever (and Leo hits much more than he ever misses), it's getting hard to ignore that little voice inside that wants something more from him.

Why Bother? is even more radical [than its predecessor], pairing dead-calm passages with weird and often downright evil-sounding electronics that recall Throbbing Gristle and Wolf Eyes.

One of the most powerful hip-hop albums of 2007.

It is a mellow, melodic album that switches between stripped-down, folk-inspired material, downtempo pop, and up-to-date productions designed for both home and club listening.

This introduction isn't all that different than her debut, since it still presents a promising vocalist instead of a vocalist who's fulfilled her promise.

With the lazy weariness of Tom Waits and the inflection of John Lennon, Mason makes every line he sings something worth listening to, something worth remembering. And when this is coupled with songs that can already stand strongly on their own, it makes for a pretty commanding album.

Hebden and Reid's music is as full of depth and ideas as before.

The sweetness is almost too gooey, and what should be providing a healthy contrast ends up dragging the best instrumental moments down more than once, almost literally getting in the way of the striking sonic collages. It may be heresy to some, but conceivably Person Pitch would be at its best if it were strictly instrumental.

Turn the Lights Out is the most mature and technically accomplished album the Ponys have made to date, but it doesn't lack the excitement and edge of the fine music that preceded it.

While Transmaniacon had more breadth and depth, Western Xterminator is a gleeful testament to the liberating powers of unrepentantly excessive, heavy rock.

This is a sleepier record than 2005's Dimmer, but it rewards the careful listener with enough waking dreams to fuel a hundred overcast Sunday mornings.

Although Back to Black does see her deserting jazz and wholly embracing contemporary R&B, all the best parts of her musical character emerge intact, and actually, are all the better for the transformation from jazz vocalist to soul siren.

So while Aqualung may not be doing anything on Memory Man that is wholly different than all of the Coldplays and Rufus Wainwrights of the world, there is a certain down-to-earth charm inherent in Hales that his peers often lack.

A mixed bag.

Not too many bands even in heyday of the initial wave of dance-punk released records as full of energy, intelligence, and ferocious funk as this.

Musically and thematically, this is some of Air's most elegant, mature music; it does what it does so compellingly that any attempts to be "poppy" would miss the point.

It's as decadent as it is tasty -- theatricality has never been a practice that the collective has shied away from -- but there's no denying the Arcade Fire's singular vision, even when it blurs a little.

The Search is a potent reminder of why Farrar was and is one of the watershed artists of the alt-country movement.

Unfortunately, the times the band steps into more lighthearted -- at least musically -- territory are not nearly as successful.

A major disappointment that puts a real chink in this great band's legacy.

Two skills he has mastered in the past, mood and texture, make this record especially good.

Throughout, a cutback on shimmery electronic effects results in a lived-in sound; there's a shabby chic-ness to these songs, and also a believability.

There isn't a weak moment here as everything is organized, beautifully arranged, and never feels pushed or forced.

Time will tell, of course, but in The Calling, Carpenter may have her finest moment yet; it also feels like an artistic rebirth.

The album does what all great art does: guides its audience without giving them concrete answers (or even directions), forcing them to think for themselves instead of blindly following others, and eventually leading them, hopefully, to some kind of greater, albeit more complex, understanding of things.

Mark's laid-back stride keeps the affair surprisingly buoyant.

We All Belong is a little bit cleaner and dressed a little bit nicer than "Easy Beat," but the rustic appeal of the music still comes through loud and clear.

Ultimately, there is real growth here, subtle and unpretentious as it is.

This ambitious use of resources and influences could very easily end up creating an album that sounded severely disjointed, even incoherent, but k-os is able to make something that, despite the diversity between tracks, works very much as a whole.

This stuff is pure musical and lyrical inspiration.

[It] ends up being some of Trans Am's most satisfying work yet.

It's like a Beach Boys album when it's calm and a Queen album when it's crunchy, but all filtered through what must be one hell of a record collection over at the Goreas-Lasek homestead.

Where Jackson occasionally seemed as if they were in a rush to jam as many styles into their sound as possible, Cunniff digs deeper into her idiosyncrasies, creating music that feels unhurried and flows easily.

Or Give Me Death is fun yet serious, cheerful yet depressing, simple yet intricate.

A magnificent set, awash in textures, atmospheres, moods, and emotion.

Four years in the making, Can Cladders could have come off the presses as an indulgent, overwrought opus. Instead, it simply (but oh-so-craftily) distilled a career's worth of creative tangents into one solid, focused effort that, if you're observant enough, holds its own amongst the likes of the Llamas' comparative "elite."

Perkins avoids reveling in depression and instead follows the route that other singer/songwriters like Leonard Cohen, Nick Drake, and Bob Dylan have put down before him, telling detail-driven stories of people and life.

This album is the prescription for anyone who thinks rock has imploded or has nothing new to offer.

The album is just so uniform in its beauty that tracks simply blend into one another.

West is flawless; it is actually destined to become a classic.

Tones of Town cements Field Music's place as one of the best pop bands of any kind operating in 2007.

He's already a masterful player in his own right and he has his ear cocked toward the future, not only the past.

A crisply recorded set of bouncing rockers, sweetly strummed ballads and vaguely trippy mid-tempo tracks that are full of hooks, melodies and goofy fun.

This album isn't as brash or immediate as the band's earlier work, but its gradual move from alienation to connection and hope is just as bold as Silent Alarm, and possibly even more resonant.

It lays down incontrovertible proof that Sondre Lerche can make a convincing and exciting straight-ahead modern rock record.

For a band that was once so self-assured and able to utilize its talents so compellingly, the album is regrettably haphazard.

If anything, this is the most satisfying offering from Sykes and her band yet.

Children Running Through is Patty Griffin's masterpiece thus far.