Mary Chapin Carpenter doesn't sound especially concerned with how much product she'll move on The Age of Miracles; instead, she's made an album that speaks with honesty and clarity about the mysteries of love and fate, and she communicates well enough that it's hard to imagine anyone who has ever thought about the ways life can turn on a dime not being moved by the beauty of this music.

The often awesome The Second Album is more concerned about opening doors than just preserving the Latyrx legacy.

This may be somewhat of a disappointment for expecting more from the vault: regardless of how good these selections may be, there's only seven remixes and just one demo of a "new" song that wasn't on the original Ray of Light. For more forgiving fans, however, this release offers a fascinating peek into the era, providing more intense, trance-y forays for some much beloved tracks.

Radio now splits everything into little niches. That isn't what Charles was about. He saw music as convergence. This fine concert album plays in that same spirit.

What could have been a throwaway side project has instead turned out to be a quietly charming and affectionate labor of love that hopefully won't be the last collaboration between the two.

An EP might have worked, but apparently Grinderman had to milk it for all it was worth.

With an overall sound that seems inspired by a searing mix of old-timey blues mixed with a hypodermic blast of melodic noise, there is a driving, wild-eyed intensity to many of the tracks on Beat the Devil's Tattoo.

Throughout it all, the album's sounds are so transporting that they carry the less accessible moments and make Breathing Statues an entrancing second effort.

While Interpol is far from a simplistic band, more often than not Julian Plenti Is Skyscraper takes the scenic route, and it pays off with an intimate, subtle set of songs that are strong in their own right.

Call it reliable or call it boring, As U Were slots into the Lyrics Born discography comfortably, as an album any hip-hop fan could enjoy, but hardly love.

While 20/20 might be a shade too unambitious for casual listeners expecting another Expansion Team, DP heads looking to kick back and listen get plenty of pure underground to devour.

Beauty Queen Sister showcases the Indigo Girls in top traditional form; their audience will no doubt delight in this, especially because the songs are expertly crafted and, as usual, intimate and honest to the point of discomfort.

The album seems to be one of her most consistent records and one of her best.

Like many big-sounding albums, Only by the Night is a polarizing piece of work, one that targets new fans at the expense of those who wish Kings of Leon had never shaved their beards or discovered post-'70s rock.

As per usual, the record is immaculately crafted, but a bit "proggy," which could serve to disappoint listeners who have been waiting patiently for the artist to return to the engaging, patchwork pop/rock of 2005's Illinoise. Fans of the quirky, less immediate moments from that album will find a great deal to love on this precursor to October's full length Age of Adz.

While the Osbourne-fronted and Dio-fronted versions of Black Sabbath are, again, very different bands, this is an album that matches its moment every bit as perfectly as "Paranoid" did back in 1970.

Songs for Our Mothers indicates Fat White Family still want to annoy you, but they're only going to put real effort into it for so long.

Ultimately, the Red Hot Chili Peppers are served well by that professionalism; they're long past the point of proving themselves, they're now longer here for a party, they're rock & roll lifers, and I'm with You illustrates they can settle into maturity convincingly.

Many songs on Learning From Falling have that vaguely edgy, vaguely happy, vaguely cutesy sound often heard piping from the speakers at Wal-Mart, and soon it becomes clear she's making the same vocal choices on song after song.

In the end, while not the perfect album that Aveo's talent promises, the removal of a couple songs would render the entire thing striking and mesmerizing, and when held to such a high standard, you can't ask for too much more than that.

That isn't to say that The Curse of Blondie is a classic Blondie disc, but it's the first good one since at least Autoamerican, and features one of their best-ever singles in "Good Boys."

There's no crybaby posing here, no deployment of cliché. Even if SDRE had a hand in the popularization of the emo movement, the Fire Theft's music is much too personal to be anything other than a therapy session, both for Enigk and his musical co-conspirators and friends.

A distinctive work.... it's a remarkably beautiful album.

This music is fierce and anthemic without ever sounding pretentious, and Pierced Arrows show that a few decades of experience can actually be good for you in punk rock, a welcome revelation in a genre that thrives on youthful snot.

Ghostbird is a summer album for adventurous folk fans, engaging on its first run-thru but packed with enough twists and turns to warrant repeated listens.

Though having an entertaining show backing it up will make Dethalbum III an easy purchase for fans of the program, it's an album good enough to stand all on its own.

["She Said No" is] a minor blip on an otherwise excellent album by two guys who have discovered the transformative power that can be derived from collaboration.

All this record does is break the heart of anyone who fell in love with Yuck because of that album, and that's a real shame.

A sort of cosmic, high-def honky tonk that for the most part proves tasty, injecting some much needed brevity into windy frontman Eric Earley's colorful yet often perfunctory tales of sin and redemption.

As with any compilation, it plays a bit unevenly at times, but overall, Say Yes! is a solid listen born out of great respect for Smith's legacy.

Stranger has its cloud-rap niche and should please listeners eager to enter this world, but casual rap fans should arm themselves with enough patience and caffeine before taking the plunge.

This slick homage to electronic hippie music sounds like two smart guys having genuine fun playing something they love.

Though this makes for a different kind of listening experience than fans might be used to, it's one that's ultimately pretty satisfying, feeling like it's not just manifesting the will and desire of the Polyphonic Spree's fans, but also reflecting the mission of brightness and hope that the band has been on for over a decade now.

Dangerfield’s solo foray is a (for the most part) sparse production (it was recorded in just five days), and that extra room is a little jarring at first, but fans of the band, as well as the elusive quarry that is love, will no doubt walk away from Fly Yellow Moon a step or two lighter.

The sunshiny pop of Sun, Sun, Sun is more magical in comparison to Me First. It features some of Sennett's most brilliant work to date, and the band's overall summery sound is much more cohesive here.

While both the sternly Chassidic and sternly roots reggae factions of his fanbase might find it disappointing, Spark Seeker holds plenty of life and appeal.

The Glass Passenger might not bare the same pop hooks as "Everything in Transit," but it does stay afloat under the weight of McMahon's past, which bodes well for the songwriter's future work.

Too many of the cuts appear pieced together in the studio, never once capturing the energy of a band playing live.

It may be flawed and the rapper's attitude is sometimes one step ahead of his output, but he hasn't sounded this unfiltered and proud since The Marshall Mathers LP.

Pitbull's Global Warming is the spicy pop-rap place to forget the world's problems, so forgive the fat, forgive the mess, and enjoy the heat.

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.

cta is Hit the Lights' ultimate bid for mainstream acceptance and also the quintet's strongest album to date.

While anyone hoping for more of the same old Fear Factory will find a lot to love about The Industrialist, those who have been hoping for something different might find that the album isn't quite what they were looking for.

"March of the Wizards" and "Chameleons Tale," just end up sounding boring and out of place. Subtract these songs and The Return of Love is an impressive album that does almost exactly what it sets out to do, and sounds very pleasant while doing it.

While even those fond of the '90s revival may be close to overdosing on nostalgia, Empire offers a fresh enough take to make it worth a listen.

There is much to like about Green's music, but if Haul Away! is indeed part of a potential trilogy, let's hope the songwriting on her third offering outweighs its stylish ambitions.

This is something better: a record designed to carry on the tradition of smooth, fizzy bubblegum into the new millennium and, against all odds, it succeeds mightily.

Kelly Jones and his crew know how to craft big music, knowing that often the atmosphere matters more than melody.

As moving as it is to hear her and Chilli together for another album, the material is not up to par with TLC's past. Flashbacks are more likely than repeat play.

Brown combines memorable hooks with some stellar production work on the rubbery disco-funk of "Add Me In" (courtesy of Danja) and the blithe, swaying "Time for Love" (a collaboration with Jean Baptiste and Free School). In these and a few other songs, romantic affection, expressed with seemingly genuine sweetness, takes precedence over sexual aggression and petulance.

Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings is a rock record in the grandest and most polished sense of the word: it wears its lineage proudly, and imparts emotions directly and brazenly honestly no matter how pretty or shiny the picture is.

To Chesney's credit, he's as appealing on this set of relaxed tunes as he was on its gleaming, ultra-modern predecessor, and taken together, they are strong proof that he's one of best singers and songwriters working in contemporary country music in the mid-'00s.

McLachlan simply sounds like McLachlan here, seemingly unaged by the seven years that have elapsed since her last record and unconcerned with new trends.

It's aural candy for aging goths and tortured tweens alike.

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 only drawback to Beautiful is that it's often too reminiscent of Stereolab, the pop art pastiche of Pizzicato Five, and Tanaka's own 1999 release, Luxury.

The arrangements and solid production, however, aren't enough to save the material.

Rhythm and Gangster is right up there with his best while being riskier than anything before it.

Beneath the Velvet Sun is the uneven work of a talented artist who doesn't seem to trust the idiosyncratic approach that brought him to national attention enough to really let himself go. You can hardly blame him for trying to play it safe, given his one-hit wonder status, but the album's very bow to commercialism may keep it from being the hit it might have been.

[Moody has] created a record that could have been released in 2005 instead of one that sounded just a bit like 2010.

While it provides a fair amount of material for those who prefer either release, Immersion also stretch out here, leaning heavily toward industrial-style rock on a handful of tracks while veering toward metal on "Self vs. Self."

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.

It's this kind of mellow eclecticism that has helped Greenwood to develop such a devoted following, and it's his music's sticky, molasses-like sweetness that keeps those fans coming back for more and more.

The album flows easier than Drift and Home, yet it somehow comes off as comparatively fragmentary, with 15 tracks playing out in just over half an hour.

Berlinette fans may not find a lot to grab onto here, but the graceful way she explores different directions on LISm will impress fans of her more abstract side.

The results, though often feeling abrupt and sometimes overly academic, are mostly warm and curious, stretching out in eternal open-endedness that isn't really looking for answers or understandable conclusions.

Keep Your Dreams is, for the most part, a breath of fresh air suggesting that two pairs of Aussie DJ hands are certainly better than one.

There are too many shifts in mood here from track to track--but it is without question a worthwhile record, as its best moments are strong, substantive reinterpretations that illustrate just how good a songwriter Peter Gabriel is.

Jackson may have been cast in the eternal sideman role in Belle & Sebastian, but (I Can't Get No) Stevie Jackson shows without a doubt that he is a pop craftsman in his own right.

On their sophomore effort, they stick very close to the formula of their debut: a slew of mid- and uptempo love songs, a sad ballad, and a couple of rocked-up good-time tunes--all self-written with some help from some of Nashville’s most respected writers.

With some minor problems, some minor advancement, and some major moments, Da Realist is an overall winner from a rapper who keeps beating the odds.

More fine than fierce, Fly International Luxurious Art may not be on the man's top shelf, but it's a sturdy and entertaining effort well worth its place in the Chef's catalog.

Frustrated, hungry, and full of rage, The Atlas Underground is a rallying cry set against an inventive and propulsive backdrop that inspires a physical response as much as thoughtful action.

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 Mother Stone falls into a busy and confusing tangle of parts that becomes exhausting after a while.

Even though the album isn't as immediate as his prior work, it rewards repeated listens and some concentration, a smooth experience fit for wasting a day away between the sheets.

A Few Steps More balances the intimate charm of Monade's previous work with a slightly more ambitious, but still off-the-cuff, feel that should please Sadier fans.

Call it sloppy pop (or poppy slop), but even with the raw aesthetic and tinny resonance, the songs are entirely sweet and hummable, sometimes to the point of being unshakable.

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.

Right-sized, organized in a sensible manner, and an alluring balance of cool and calm, Fly Rasta lives up to its title as it sits on Ziggy's top shelf.

The songwriting on Born of the Sun is wider and more focused; the performances and warm production are much more immediate. Combined, they offer the most "accessible" offering in Faun Fables' catalog (relatively speaking), thus adding a new dimension to an already compelling, complex musical persona.

Within these five tracks, Coldplay touch upon various contemporary trends in EDM, R&B, and rock without abandoning their identity, and thereby they are fleet and clever, not relics.

For the most part, He Was King emphasizes pop accessibility--and it often does so with catchy, likable results.

As his ex-1D crew continue their own solo careers, Horan maintains his position near the top of the pack with yet another relatable collection of emotive vignettes about everyday love.

The Constant has enough strong moments to make it a promising debut from a group with plenty of confidence, personality and potential.

Born Free goes a long, long way toward keeping that heartland flame burning bright: it's familiar yet fresh, and song for song it's the best album Kid Rock has cut since Devil Without a Cause.

These cuts ["Let Your Tears Fall," "Good Goes the Bye," and "Nostalgic"], along with the title track, manage to strike the right balance of Kelly's indomitable character and fresh electronic beats but overall Piece by Piece sounds a shade too desperate, which means it winds up having the opposite effect than intended: instead of sounding like a new start, Clarkson sounds a little bit behind the times.

The constant changes of direction can be a little jarring on the first couple plays, but they eventually become one of the album's charms.

For those of you that like to dress in long trench coats, leave trails of incense, hang out at Borders, sip down inflated decaf mocha javas, and quietly (but not too quietly) discuss the contradictory, post-modern feminist and Marxist attitudes in last week's Buffy episode while keeping an eye out for all those moody sorts perusing the tattoo section -- Poem will sound amazing. For the rest, it's a ponderous machine of put-upon tribal chants and cod-industrial loops that runs on empty from start to finish.

The most notable thing about The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn, Pt. 1 is its unabashed romanticism, and the album more than serves its purpose as a Twilight-branded wedding playlist.

Thought-provoking, sonically dazzling, and sometimes bewildering, Let's Dance Raw is a lot to process, but it feels like a wish for honesty and intimacy in a world bent on destroying itself.

Through several clumsier moments, it's evident Robinson's still getting the hang of making music that translates outside clubs and festivals. Going by what he has accomplished and what he aimed to achieve here, his development should be fascinating.

Highlights is a step forward for the band and with a bit of patience, its personality begins to show.

Everything Is Borrowed is a neat about-face, a record that couldn't be more different from its predecessor. Sincere, considered, and poignant, Everything Is Borrowed finds Skinner remaining one of the foremost lyricists in pop music, and so much the better when the focus of his sharp writing is the struggle of weighty concepts instead of flimsy celebrity.

This isn't a pathbreaking album by a band with any chance at reshaping their genre in their image; it's a solid disc by a group that knows its own strengths.

Packing so many WTFs into one ten-song record is hardly fair, a bit reckless, and ultimately (amazingly) successful.

With songs largely based around Natalie's love of soul and melodic '60s pop, Wild Belle have a less frenetic, if still hypnotically languid take on NOMO's world fusion sound.