Both 'Stone in My Hand' and 'Weakness' are redemption anthems that will satisfy sinners looking to be saints. They are the target audience and--along with the Everlast faithful--the ones who will find this heavy, rap-free album rich and rewarding instead of desolate and ponderous.

Maestro never sounds the least bit unfocused. Being eclectic comes naturally to Mahal, who sees to it that Maestro is a consistently engaging celebration of his 40th year as a recording artist.

It's an experience, to say the least. At the same time, The Great Misdirect is the type of overblown record that asks the question, "Is there such thing as being too ambitious?"

Be Set Free isn't a game-changing album so much as it confirms that Langhorne Slim's talent can work within a wider framework than he's used in the past and still honor his gifts, and it's an impressive, pleasurable work.

At 13 tracks the album feels right-sized, not overstuffed, and Banks himself is in fine form throughout, delivering stone cold and slow punch lines that are as lethal as ever. When it comes to evolution, there's really none, but even though he's been here before, veteran fans will appreciate his return.

While the Summer Set shed some of their emo-pop roots for Everything's Fine, the growth as songwriters and performers as well as potential for wider recognition shown on their sophomore effort is a worthy exchange.

Songs are built with obvious hooks and structure, and are lyrically intimate, keeping them in line with the slick electro flavor and emo sentiments of Miike Snow and VHS or Beta.

While some of Red Night's songs might still be a little too insular for their own good, the album still finds the Hundred in the Hands coming into their own and expanding their identity at the same time.

Our Nature is too long and just not unique enough to really stand out among all the artists treading similar ground.

This is a step forward from the MC's previous effort, but it's been six years since the he has made an album that must be heard.

Wretched & Divine is a solid album of neo-hard rock that might just be the thing your inner Crüe fan has been looking for..

At times, Letherette gives the impression of being on the fringes of a big party, moving in and out of the action as the mood strikes--and it's this mood, sophisticated but not overly mannered, that makes the album so listenable.

The great production of the album and its grab bag of above-average musical ideas are ultimately lost to the overarching disingenuous feel of Boats and the strain their various affectations put on the songs.

PDA sets up a dreamily weird and heartfelt mood from the beginning and drives it deeper into the listener's consciousness with each song that follows.

There may not be anything challenging here, but even though the lyrics are abstract ("Why don't you call the cops/Wild eyes, you don't have to be good") and the song titles can be misleading ("Harrison Ford"), at the core these are just love songs, and sometimes love is best kept uncomplicated.

Exquisite stuff and not so far off the trip-hop universe that it sounds alien, but those wishing for revivalist music or a nostalgia trip back to the days of chillout rooms could be thrown by the album's forward-thinking and genre-expanding moments.

Out of the box, the Melodic don't sound much like anyone else in British pop, and their individuality, imagination, and vision already make them something special.

Perhaps Grande doesn't embody the songs the way an old-fashioned diva would, but she functions as a likeable pop ringleader, stepping aside when the track calls for it and then unleashing a full-throated wail when it's her time to shine.

Some of the styles are undeniably tacky but, hey, bad taste is part of Idol's legacy and Kings & Queens of the Underground touches upon that garishness along with his exaggerated swagger, fondness for hooks, and an irascible snarl, and that makes it an autobiography even if it never tells a story.

Beck isn't so much interested in resurrecting specific songs from his career as he is in revisiting particular styles and moods

While disjointed in a way that plays like a perhaps-too-extensive portfolio rather than something intended to be an album, the set reveals a bold and versatile songwriter as well as a performer and engineer.

On Nightstand, she almost splits the difference, softening her tone but not abandoning the crunchy effervescence of prior albums.

Generation Rx can feel a little bit deliberate: it may be little more than half an hour but it feels a bit longer, because the tempos are moderate and the melodies studiously avoid effervescence. All the same, Generation Rx winds up showing a way forward for Good Charlotte.

This trio kicked this out in a burst of powerful inspiration, and if this had been pressed up as a 45 in 1979, one of these tracks would probably ended up on a Killed By Death compilation by now. The C.I.A. is good noisy, cranky fun from folks who know how.

There are great moments here, particularly a spare, powerful reworking of Talking Heads' "Listening Wind," and the participants never sound less than sincere, but coming from a band whose heritage includes "Ghost Town," "Doesn't Make It Alright," and "It's Up To You," Protest Songs 1924-2012 never quite reaches its potential.

Nothing here is as gripping or as perfect as "Rock Lobster," "Private Idaho," or "Love Shack," and the songs that are borderline filler get pushed into one big forgettable lump towards the end of the album.

It's hookier and not as ponderous as ¡Uno! but not quite as breakneck as ¡Dos!.

If rap-metal were ever meant to evolve, See You on the Other Side is the record that does it.

As it is, Now or Heaven is good enough but too derivative and uneven to be seen as anything other than a mild disappointment.

Not that dignity was ever that important to Meat Loaf, but the shallow spectacle of Hang Cool Teddy Bear lacks the absurd joy of his best: you can hear everybody involved working far too hard to achieve next to nothing.

Super Extra Gravity matches their previous record, Long Gone Before Daylight, for its dour mood and sour attitude, its lack of discernible hooks, and the unappetizing flavor of the Cardigans' performances.

The result is an album of beautiful juxtapositions, steeped with poetic gravitas that nonetheless never fails soar.

Both a total curveball and pleasant surprise.

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.

With this album, Major Stars show their talent as songwriters, creating a collection of songs that manages to rope you in with a solid rock foundation before attempting to blow your mind with fuzzed-out fretboard acrobatics, making the title a statement of purpose rather than empty posturing.

I'm the Problem sees Morgan Wallen deliver another sprawling double-LP.

Three underwhelms from beginning to end.

Music to Be Murdered By sees Eminem pulling himself out of Kamikaze's wreckage somewhat, though he still falls victim to moments of willful dumbness and a tedious self-obsession that's become par for the course. On the album's best tracks, there are still hints of the fire that made Eminem a rap legend.

More Geddy Lee than Robert Plant, Josh Kiszka commands attention then alienates; his wail is the weak link in a group who is getting better at their period-accurate cosplay.

Barbara shows that We Are Scientists know what works for them, and even if it never quite breaks the barrier between pleasant and great, it's almost always enjoyable.

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.

Depending on your predilection, it will either bore the crap out of you, pass on by like a rest stop without a vending machine, or reignite the flame for a band that has always celebrated, as Lowery sings on 1989's "All Her Favorite Fruit," the "fecundity of life and love."

It's that tension between the good and the bad, the yin and yang of Duran Duran, that makes Paper Gods absorbing.

The result is a strong, confident record that's his best solo effort to date.

Wedded to this warmth is a crisp clean sheen, a sound so bright that it threatens to get goofy when Chesney and crew rock out.

A hypnotic, wickedly sexy bit of folk-funk delivered at the tempo of a rambling, acid-soaked desert caravan, the track--as with the rest of Minnesota--leaves you pondering Jennings' poetic intent like a dark mirage spied in the late summer sun.

While SPARK's curio-like qualities may win the duo new listeners, and songwriting tendencies could offer a lifeline to certain established fans, it's a change -- signified by its all-caps stylization -- sure to alienate many as well.

The whole album is something of a surprise and the band make it work by wisely exploring both sides of the disco coin. Thanks to the care they put into the sound and the strength of the songs, they pull off their latest transformation smoothly.

Indeed, many of Portamento's songs are kind of miserable -- or at least they would be, if these knowing, glum lyrics weren't paired with naïve melodies and tempos that are too brisk to be mopey.

Buy this with the full confidence that you are getting your money's worth.

The most natural and best record they've ever made.

If they can't quite deliver the songs or hooks--and they can't--they need to have the attitude, which they do here.

Heidecker & Wood have the pop culture fluency and musical skills to pull off this homage in gloriously cheesy detail. Starting from Nowhere may be odd, but it's also very enjoyable, especially for anyone who has a soft spot for soft rock.

Sweeter benefits from greater textures in his surroundings, stronger hooks in the melodies, and, for once, a sensibility that doesn't sacrifice the present for the sake of paying respect to the past.

Adhering to such a limited arsenal can sometimes feel like the material was cut with a full band, then mixed down to just guitars and vocals, but Underwood and Costelloe manage to fill in the empty spaces with sheer charm.

Nothing is as distinctive as past delights like "I Will Come Back," "Wait & See," and "Okay," but it's all sturdy and even-keeled, programmed for start-to-finish listening.

Preacher's Sigh & Potion sounds a bit jarring at first, but it makes more sense considering Dear's family background, and it does have a kind of rootsy, lived-in charm the more time one spends with it. Even if the songs don't always work, at least they feel like earnest personal expressions rather than forced, miscalculated "who is this even for?" hybrids.

Like many remix collections, Dross Glop doesn't flow particularly well, and it's not quite as dazzling as Gloss Drop, but it once again shows that Battles are up for anything.

As a Wu-Tang album, The Saga Continues is good but not great, but it's a fine calling card for Mathematics, and makes the case that he should be given an album of his own more often.

The combination of songs, sound, and performance make this another near-perfect album from the trio. Those who have fallen under their charmingly sweet spell can only hope it doesn't take another six years for the next one.

City of Refuge never succumbs to the silence that so obviously surrounds it. Even appearances (overdubbed after the initial field recordings) from Sufjan Stevens, Jana Hunter, Scott Tuma, Dawn Smithson, and Ero Gray feel unobtrusive, resulting in a strange, sad, but ultimately compelling collection of hopeless Western indie folk.

With just the right mix of nostalgia and looking forward to what's next, Hot Hot Heat puts a neat bow on the band's career.

Lavelle's trading on past glory and continued sifting through fallout can be wearisome, but his high level of enthusiasm can be sensed throughout.

The pleasure of the popcraft outweighs much of the caution in the construction, especially when the insistent hooks are delivered with such puppy-dog earnestness by Taylor Hanson.

At its best, History of Modern is to OMD what Secrets is to the Human League: an inspired return from post-punk-turned-synth-pop greats.

The second half is dominated by ballads made for seduction (with more than a little preening). They don't offer much in the way of development from Thicke's recent past but they should get the job done.

As a collection of songs, and particularly as a "pop" record (inspirations for the group reportedly included Rye Rye and Whigfield, which seems far-fetched at best), Ultraísta feels a bit unfulfilled, but as a work of sound and atmosphere, it's captivating, predictably excellent work.

Fun, wild, and addictive, The Lunar Injection Kool Aid Eclipse Conspiracy builds upon 2016's already-impressive Electric Warlock and winds up being one of Zombie's best.

Mullins' most poignant, cohesive, and diverse album.

City of Vultures is a solid first offering suggesting that Dickinson Jr. is capable of stepping out of his father's shadows in the future.

There are some solid album tracks that recall the more daring aspects of the debut, particularly the abstract, dark-hued cool of the opener, "Ghouls," and the catchy and energetic "Tonight." But the rest of Brain Thrust Mastery consists of pleasantly tuneful pop songs that barely register with the listener even after several repetitions.

The production, songs, and vocals are all perfectly in tune with each other, and the band has crafted a pretty impressive return to form. Permalight is still a far way from the bedroom origins of the group, but it’s also far from being a Coldplay knock-off, and anyone who’s been a fan from the start can certainly appreciate that.

While the album can, at times, feel unfocused, that's also the point of a project like Puscifer, which allows us to take a look inside the mind of one of the most creative frontmen of the last 20 years.

The Believer may be a formula recording, but it still satisfies, for the most part, on the level of what it is: a finely crafted pop/rock album.

Even if his take on the blues is far from straightforward, this might be the most accessible set of songs associated with Lynch to date. In its own hypnotic way, The Big Dream honors the blues' lust for life and its lonely heart.

The result is an affable album that soothes but rarely dazzles, and In the Cool of the Day winds up functioning better as a contemporary reading of older songs.

Stereophonics seem loath to leave all that they know behind, so Graffiti on the Train remains distinctly earthbound for all its big aspirations.

WE STILL DON'T TRUST YOU is a nearly 90-minute sprawl divided into two parts.

His thoughtful pacing doles out thrilling moments worth waiting for, while the slower segments allow for the energy to build again.

The Static Jacks retain much of the energy of punk, and a bit of the attitude, but their sound has a more polished pop tone to it.

Savages is meant to be taken as both a warning and a rebel yell, and Cavalera and company connect on both levels, offering up an audio invoice for our past transgressions and a shot of adrenaline for the war ahead.

The beefy, Steeleye Span-meets-MGMT rocker "The Sixth Wave" are spilling over with ideas, and would probably have fit right in on Terra Firma's ambitious back end, while the amiable title cut, a breezy two-chord shuffle that should please fans of the band's hook-filled debut, delivers the EP's most instantly gratifying moments of pop acumen.

Ultimately, on Towards, We Were Evergreen have moved slightly left of the indie pop center and achieved something quite interesting and enjoyable.

Fans of the band will find enough familiar ground here, but Wild Animals shows a continued creative evolution at work.

Ultimately, by celebrating those life experiences on Big Mess, Grouplove have crafted an ecstatic, joyful album.

Highly Suspect show potential but they're still in the throes of some serious growing pangs here.

Apart from the two new songs that bode well for future albums of original material, there is absolutely no reason for Echo fans to choose a spin of The Stars, the Ocean & the Moon over another listen to the songs in their original perfect state.

With a little editing, Insano could have been one of Kid Cudi's strongest releases to date. Instead, listeners are given an uneven playlist of great highs and should-have-been B-sides that, in the very least, deliver the expected vocal melodics, haunting vibes, tongue-twisting bars, and "tortured" emotions that Cudi has mastered over the years.

The result throughout Velocity of Sound is an impression of the Apples in Stereo as introductory ironists, non-threatening to kids and parents, accessible and enjoyable to all.

Though its heart is eventually lost amidst the guiding elements of the genre, the Used's In Love and Death does make some impressive moves away from those very same tenets, showing some welcome restraint and even some rocktastic energy.

New fans will find Sleeping With Ghosts to be a good record. Old fans, though, might think the band wimped out while growing up.

But even if the music doesn't really work, it's hard not to listen to it in slack-jawed wonderment, since there's never been a record quite like it -- it's nothing but wrong-headed dreams, it's all pomp but no glamour, it's clichés sung as if they were myths.

Ultimately, while Bass Drum of Death's reach never exceeds their grasp--there's no MC5-style ersatz free jazz, let alone a guitar solo to be found here--Rip This nonetheless grabs your ears like a drunken biker in a bar fight, letting go long enough for you to pick yourself off the floor just in time to get pummeled again.

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.

By not just defying but denying the expectations about what their music should be like, the Liars have created one of the most fascinating, confrontational albums of the 2000s.

It's confident, muscular, uncluttered, tight, and tuneful in a way Oasis haven't been since Morning Glory.

He definitely deserves credit for going beyond the usual sounds you might hear on a modern singer/songwriter album and it works often enough to make the record a treat for anyone who wants something confessional and real but not boring.

While it feels like Pixies are still figuring out how to continue their legacy, Head Carrier's best moments suggest they're heading in the right direction.