The material is arranged chronologically, but beyond that, one set of tunes stumbles into another without making sense of their different sonic and musical characteristics as Iggy's backing bands (none of whom are credited) and musical approaches shift from concert to concert throughout this set, leaving Roadkill Rising in dire need of some sense of focus.

Burning with a hot track intensity somewhere in between early evening rave-up and late-night club afterglow, Torches is a beacon of melodic dance-pop love.

Knight has a certain hunger to his performance, giving these steely, cluttered soundscapes a semblance of warmth which makes it a far cry better than the cold calculation of The Block.

Build with Erosion casts a wide net, but its 11 songs still cast a consistent mood, falling somewhere between pleasantly hypnotic and purposely peculiar.

What he doesn't really have is a strong hook to pull listeners into the album; there's nothing surprising or unexpected or exceptionally hooky, just 12 polished slices of contemporary country that will surely please longtime Brooks & Dunn fans largely because it doesn't feel all that different than the duo.

In many ways, In Light splits the difference between the peppy pseudo-Afro pop of Vampire Weekend and the percussive, improv-heavy dance rock of Local Natives. That might be a bit of a knock against In Light if it wasn't such an accomplished, ambitious debut.

Sonically, it's the Submarines' most interesting record to date. Melodically, it's a bit spottier than usual, relying heavily on a handful of highlights to shoulder the weight of the saggier numbers.

Self-describing their sound as "fight-pop," the impossible-to-type Scottish six-piece Dananananaykroyd stay true to their word on second album There Is a Way, which appears to be waging a war against staying in tune, coherent lyrics, and the concept of subtlety on 12 anarchic tracks that attempt to pummel listeners into submission.

As Boeckner repeats the words "I have no feelings" in the last song, he seems to be driving home a point. Prior Handsome Furs outings had a lot more emotion behind them.

Most of Modern Love is almost meticulously inoffensive, shot through with a middle-of-the-road approach that rarely overswings or underwhelms.

This is Bolton doing what he does best, and doing it so well that anybody who picks this up thinking it's a compilation won't be disappointed with what resides inside.

Get Your Heart On! is every bit as tuneful as the group's debut.

Sure, as sheer sound, it's executed well -- more assured, musical, and, well, professional than any of their other albums, their age lending them a dexterity absent in their hits -- but the deliberate retro-rage begs the question: who exactly is this music for?

Despite its pointed title, Culture of Fear is not quite as politically minded as Thievery Corporation's previous studio album.

This Loud Morning winds up as an album that's primarily textural mood music for the morning, and one that's not all that loud either.

Very much like its predecessor, Devil's Music derives most of its noteworthiness and novelty (and arguably, for better or worse, much of its musical interest) from an impressive, sometimes head-scratching roster of guest vocalists drawn from pop, rock, rap, and reggae.

For Shelton's fans, this is a whole helping of what you like best, and it's carefully formulated to be exactly that.

Player Piano offers enough of Hawk's characteristically inventive sonic tinkering -- including, the title notwithstanding, an intriguing emphasis on organ sounds -- to merit repeated listens, even if these productions do sound worrisomely flat at times.

This Is the Computers sounds good enough on the one hand, but on the other, it's a bit of an on-off effort by the band, initially an example of sudden moments almost working more than the songs.

Experimental while always pop-oriented and engaging, Was I the Wave? is a great summer afternoon album for chilling at the beach or day-driving with friends.

Many bands get more sophisticated, or at least tighter, as they become more technically accomplished, thereby losing some of their punk edge. That hasn't happened to Title Fight yet... [They] continue to be fresh, if somewhat semi-professional.

A compilation of the emo-punk band's favorite tracks, all reworked acoustically.

For the most part, she is still able to deliver her tunes with honesty that makes you think about feelings she's conveying, not her recording budgets, as is the case with many over-processed country stars out there.

When you want to hear something nice and don't want to be overly engaged or challenged, Within and Without will satisfy your needs in that regard, and only those looking for memorable songs or fresh sounds will feel let down.

Unfortunately, there's an underlying feeling of insincerity. More often than not, the lyrics are literal interpretations of song titles.

All blunders aside, Burning at Both Ends is an album that has a lot to offer for Set Your Goals devotees, and might even make converts out of the uninitiated.

Despite Robbins being literally unable to sing, it's a better album than anyone had any right to expect.

The rest of the album is a little more stiff than it should have been, fault going to the antiseptic arrangements, rigid musicianship, and Johnson's wavering take on "Have Thine Own Way, Lord," which needs a lot more solemnity (or at least stability) to truly get its message across.

Yours Truly doesn't quite match the caliber of the albums in the Sublime discography, but it's a fairly enjoyable spin-off just the same.

This is music made with no audience in mind: it is strikingly personal, to the extent that it suggests that Carlton needs to get this soul-searching out of her system in order to move forward.

Chris Collingwood and Adam Schlesinger's specialty as songwriters has always been turning a trope inside out, finding ways to freshen or invert convention, and while they haven't lost that knack, the directness of Sky Full of Holes turns their tunes into something approaching standard-issue.

Make a Scene still provides a couple of gems, but it's hard to shake the feeling that she's now milked the whole dance-pop ice-maiden schtick well and truly dry.

Once rumored to be a true Wu-Tang Clan release, Legendary Weapons arrived as another compilation of Wu whatnot, with affiliates and second-string producers running the show as core member GZA sits things out.

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.

There's a great and more conventional singer/songwriter album waiting to get out here, but The Lateness of the Hour appears to be more concerned with creating a bold statement of intent than in showcasing Clare's undeniable talents.

The rest of the record is filled with an invigorating amount of passion, noise, and power that impressively takes their roots and influences to a new place. Not bad for a debut album; it bodes very well for further endeavors.

The compilation was offered on CD in three-disc and one-disc sets. The latter is more like a sampler with no discernible method to the selection process, and those who take that option will miss out on the Clarke and Wilder mixes, as well as numerous highlights.

The crossover material leaves the album sounding a little stiff, and "No Tomorrow" seems manufactured to the point of feeling artificial, but if Attack! Attack! were aiming for commercially viable pop-punk, they hit the nail on the head with this one.

He has a true knack for rhyming about the dangers of the West Coast.

Rather than simply target kids of today, Barenaked Ladies have crafted a children's pop album inspired by their own '70s/'80s childhoods.

There are some great moments on Haven... but until Borth learns how to realize his vision, his albums are going to fall a little short.

"Lawns" provides an easygoing contrast in turn, keeping the general propulsion of the album going but feeling like an easy swing into a West Coast sunset instead of launching a rocket to the moon.

Chelsea Grin aren't pushing the boundaries of the genre into any bold new territories, but what they do deliver is a very solid collection of face-smashing songs that will provide plenty of fuel for the mosh pit carnage that's sure to arise after repeated listenings of My Damnation.

Eight cuts from the bookish indie rockers, including early favorites.

While the sound is by no means stale, it doesn't have the same edge that the band became known for during their heyday, at times feeling more like an extension of Hey Mercedes than a proper Braid release.

Buried beneath the relentless, grinding beats and wobbly bass tremors, Welcome Reality is home to a potentially great but unfinished sci-fi blockbuster soundtrack, but unable to sustain its early momentum, it ends up being merely a solid first offering rather than the trail-blazing spectacular that was anticipated.

It's hard not to wish Fool's Gold had figured out how to develop and expand their approach without compromising so much of what made their debut so delightfully unique.

Covering such a cherished and well-respected body of work is a brave move, and while Gilmore was always going to struggle to make these iconic songs her own, John Wesley Harding is a valiant attempt to respectfully add a slightly modern sheen to the 40-year-old record, which should silence any Dylan aficionados waiting to cry foul.

Pitched somewhere between synthed-up '80s mood-out and electronic-infused shoegaze, the Swedish duo I Break Horses may have a slightly off-kilter name, but Hearts is a fine, if often derivative, debut album, a classic instance of a band knowing who and what they love, but not to the point of making it their own.

Rather than being a simple throwback band, they add their own twist by way of a dark, vaguely ominous tone.

Muppets.... freshens up the franchise for the newish millennium, and Generation Z listeners will enjoy hearing current artists in this different context, but other listeners may be left reaching for their classic Muppets fare.

B-sides and rarities collections can often help give fans insight into their favorite artists' creative processes, or at the very least, provide either a light snack between releases or a post-retirement victory lap, but when an artist as prolific as Stephin Merritt decides to clean house, it can be a little underwhelming.

Even if it is not as original or wildly thrashin' as the first album, Post-Mortem is still a decent follow-up, especially considering that Black Tide are still only in their teens.

Without that soulful kind of anchor, Nothing But the Beat offers the same experience as one of Guetta's numerous remix sets, which is a compliment if you're a dancefloor and a caution if you're a pair of headphones.

13 doesn't really feel like one of the man's most inspired or immortality-bound efforts, but rather just another reminder of Wino's prolific consistency.

Seven Rainbows only really does justice to [Gold's] undeniable talents when it abandons its Woodstock-aping ambitions.

While the album certainly delivers on the darkness, it manages to keep from being too suffocating thanks to the band's bombastic power metal.

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.

So, Own the Night is mood music but the aim isn't amorous; it's nothing more than a spot of relaxation, which doesn't quite amount to compelling listening no matter how immaculate the execution.

The soundtrack to PJ20 is not for them, it's for those who have stuck with the group through thick and thin, through any number of new drummers, and they'll certainly find much that rewards their fandom here.

Entertaining castoffs, but not his best work by far.

Elsie functions best as a display of Fallon's underused bottom register and acoustic songwriting skills, proving that slowing things down once in a while can still be a punk rock move.

His debut's failure to capitalize on his unique selling point means it's likely to leave everyone else nonplussed.

Butcher Boy were always going to find it hard to step out of the shadows of their more celebrated chamber pop neighbors, and while Helping Hands is by no means a miserable failure in doing so, it's at its strongest when it embraces their similarities rather than their differences.

The sound is standard-issue pop-punk in the Green Day/Blink-182 manner, with an echo of Jimmy Eat World in the contrasting vocals.

As a whole, it feels a bit too laid-back, especially given its nearly 70-minute length.

Deep it is not, and its aspirations to be something greater keep it from being truly trashy fun, but there are enough energy and hooks to keep Money and Celebrity entertaining.

Indeed, while the album is quite pretty and powerful at times, the overall mood of glacial gloom can be suffocating.

This set is a pleasant listen, but the fact remains that the best versions of Holly songs are by Buddy Holly, and no album of covers, no matter how well done or well intentioned, can eclipse them.

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.

Forever is a mood album, heavily sedated and perpetually out of focus, like an R.E.M. dream after cough syrup.

Derulo's still saying nothing--which is fine, since these are hooky, club cuts--but it's the talking louder that's the issue.

yron Gallimore, who previously produced Sugarland and Faith Hill, gives Wildflower an appealing gloss that helps disguise the ordinariness of the material along with any of Alaina's shortcomings, and that slickness serves Wildflower well, making it a much more enjoyable piece of product than McCreery's Clear as Day.

It's certainly not pretty but it's a distinctive first record that, in a bizarre way, appears to live up to his rather unusual claims.

Until Morrison manages to infuse some of this raw honesty and emotion into his sound, he's always going to struggle to create that one great record that his impassioned and soulful voice deserves.

A Dramatic Turn of Events, while not a perfect offering, has enough of what makes Dream Theater attractive to make it a necessary purchase for fans.

Noel's High Flying Birds is tasteful, mannered craftsmanship.

If Gauntlet Hair are promising rather than solid, they're promising nonetheless, one band of many with a shot at a further brass ring after 2011.

As the album concludes somewhere in the seventh minute of "Tether," all the aim-for-the-heights stuff they're about just becomes its own locked-in loop, an epicness that feels less remarkable than simply familiar.

The results can be winning, especially when they're slathered in classic, Les Paul/Mary Ford-inspired slapback delay. However, busier cuts like "Sleigh Ride," "Little Saint Nick," and "Christmas Day" reveal a charming yet pitchy vocalist with all of the inflections of a classic torch singer, and none of the discipline.

While Peggy Sue's drastic musical overhaul doesn't always convince, it's an admirably brave effort which possesses enough quality to make it worth the occasional test of endurance.

Despite the natural feel of these songs as sung by Wilson and performed by his talented backing band, anyone who's paid attention to his solo career of the '90s and 2000s won't hear any surprises.

The writing is nothing earth-shattering; in fact, it's rudimentary and formulaic almost without exception, although they still come up with a couple of winners ("I'm Coming Home"), and lots of tunes that would easily pass for understandably forgotten oldies.

Ultimately, Lulu is a brave experiment for both Reed and Metallica, but it's one that falters as often as it succeeds.

These songs never hit their mark as a result, aiming for the relaxed pitch of an afternoon siesta and often sounding closer to a snoozefest instead.

Is the World Strange or Am I? is indeed a little too strange to achieve the commercial success Jarvis has admitted he craves, but it's an admirably bold statement of intent which is perhaps unlike anything else you'll hear all year.

As a hair metal album, Balls Out is finely crafted and well produced, evoking the glossy sound of the era, but as a joke, it's pretty one-note, so either you're going to get it or it's going to grate on you.

Boyle isn't an interpreter, necessarily, finding new meanings of songs; instead, the songs are pitched toward her specific skills, so there's an inevitable sameness to her albums, as they all consist of slow, pretty versions of songs you know by heart.

Bieber definitely sounds more enthused by the original songs--some of which resemble everyday numbers with patched-on seasonal references--and a cover of Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas Is You" (featuring Carey herself). The versions of holiday staples are pulled off with varying results.

As it is, if you delete the missteps, you can cherry-pick a really strong, really simple '80s pop EP from the remains.

While it required only slight modifications to his approach--brighter tones and simpler arrangements, allowing room for singers and MCs--it's still surprising that much of The Vision sounds like an effort to assimilate into commercial airwaves.

There's just enough that's worthwhile on this album to hope that Hank3 doesn't fully abandon this concept, but this is a far cry from what he does best, and even serious doom fans are likely to find this is pretty ordinary.

There's no shame in appealing to a more commercial crowd, and if You Me at Six could have continued to pursue the album's more mature mainstream moments instead of trying to prove their rawk credentials, Sinners Never Sleep would probably have turned out to be a more consistent affair.

Though it's not bad by a long shot, (especially on "Get a Grip" and the sweetly drifting "Luck Is There to Be Pushed") Bad Penny is mostly just disappointing.

Get Along isn't the first live set offered up to listeners by the sisterly Canadian crooners Tegan and Sara, but when paired with its deluxe edition DVD, it's certainly their most ornate.

The end result of this is an album that'll come as a blast from the past for the band's fans and should easily get heads nodding with its affably introspective lyrics and huge choruses.

Music that is nostalgic but also stands on its own as catchy, moody modern dance-rock.

Those who are hoping for something in the spirit of mid-'90s Blige might be disappointed and think of the title as a ploy, but those who expect a wide variety of material in terms of style and mood will get precisely that.