Practically a concept album about the bittersweet nature of nostalgia--specifically, nostalgia for, you guessed it, summer.

The downside is that, much like his earliest material, Change Is Coming has a light feel that's undeniably enjoyable but also a bit tossed-off.

This album is a study in repetition and rhythm, the same kinds that Callahan first toyed with on songs like "Bloodflow" and "Justice Aversion" from Dongs of Sevotion.

Macy Gray lets her freak flag fly, almost to the detriment of everything else.

V is among the band's most confident and inspired releases.

Though some of the thrashier songs like "C.Q." and "T.K." and a bottom-heavy song sequence detract from the album's flow, Internal Wrangler is still a strong debut from one of England's most promising and distinctive indie bands.

He does his best job yet at balancing smarts and accessibility.

It's an evocative and wildly creative, but not immediately accessible collection.

Not just his best album since Blood on the Tracks, but the loosest, funniest, warmest record he's made since The Basement Tapes.

Moody, majestic, and unpredictable, All Is Dream plays like Deserter's Songs' evil twin, polarizing that album's gently trippy, symphonic pop into paranoid and exuberant extremes.

As good a record as any he's made, possibly his best.

The Convincer is a laid-back record that simply feels good.

A fully realized masterpiece.

While the album lapses occasionally with a couple of patches of redundant production, Date of Birth is a strong follow-up from a crew who keep it real by nature.

Orbital is either uninspired or saving up for something better next time.

Grand and flirting at the same time with the ridiculous -- the kind of disc to listen to when you are in love.

It's a noticeably more focused effort. Though it lacks Good Morning Spider's sprawling brilliance, it's possibly Linkous' most effective, and affecting, collection of songs.

This is what Pavement would have sounded like if they became the equivalent of Sebadoh, cranking out a version of Slanted & Enchanted each year, turning out records that satisfy listeners that want Pavement without unpredictability, humor, diversity and, yes, mess - without SM Jenkins, that is.

The album is held back by their insistence on simple songs and simple vocals that keep the record earthbound and solely the province of the already converted.

In 2001’s current crop of R&B singers, Blige’s voice is truly inimitable. It’s husky, strong, soulful and full of maturity. Make no mistake, though, this lady can still flow like no one’s business...

Ambivalent and unexceptional.

Vespertine isn’t so much a departure from her previous work as a culmination of the musical distance she’s traveled...

Lupine Howl does give the band more freedom than they previously had, as they embrace electronic effects, synthesizers, neo-psychedelic guitar riffs, and Cook's trademark harmonica. It doesn't always result in quality songwriting, however, and that will make it more laborious to avoid the "ex-members" tag.

This may not be their best offering, but it's a truly fine record that offers plenty in the way of satisfaction.

This is the recording that the homogenous Dream Harder failed to become. It's ambitious, moody, surreal, and relevant.

The whole album feels a little too slick and reverbed-out... While there are intriguing moments in the album, it lacks the spark that So Long So Wrong had in spades, and even their few moments on the O Brother soundtrack seemed to breathe more life into the band than New Favorite does.

Squiggling past looping divas, afternoon glares, and funkadelic body bops, De Crecy manages to manufacture a trail of songs that reach for that Anglo-French brass ring with nothing but admirable gravitas.

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

Unlike most electronica We Are A & C is song driven rather than a collection of grooves and noises stitched together, and therein lies its timeless pop appeal.

With Fan Dance, Sam Phillips has made an album that proves modesty is one the rarest and most welcome virtues in pop music today.

Welch and Rawlings are at the top of their form and continue to make the best Americana recordings without resorting to drenching their albums in guest stars, but by writing and performing heartfelt songs that speak with a clear and undeniable honesty.

A truly passionate and expressive collection of songs that will live long in the memories of all who listen to it.

Aaliyah isn't just a statement of maturity and a stunning artistic leap forward, it is one of the strongest urban soul records of its time.

A smashing success that avoids sounding too retro, as Geller's beats sound readymade for roller discos and bedrooms alike.

Long Distance's successful moments make its well-groomed monotony especially frustrating: Ivy polished these songs to a fare-thee-well and invited guests like James Iha and Eric Matthews to play on them, yet they couldn't give them more individuality or emotion.

Built to Spill expands on the big sound that they crafted with Keep It Like a Secret.

Arde is a low-key affair, relying on ethereal and hypnotic arrangements and slow tempos. However, there is a distinct pop sense to the album...

It is her unbridled honesty that drives this album right into your gut.

The loosest record yet in Tindersticks' decade-long existence.

It sounds exactly how an underground sensation's breakthrough album should: bigger and tighter than their earlier material, but not so polished that it will scare away longtime fans.

It’s their tightest, freshest, most contemporary batch of songs, weatherproofed to stand the test of time.

Rooty is the second straight triumph from a pair of producer/DJs who look set to carry the torch for dancefloor electronica in the years to come.

As challenging as it may be for many to stomach the constant and incredibly explicit sex, violence, and drug references, there is a stunning album lurking beneath that deserves recognition.

The slow rumble of Nakamura's production, Hewlett's outstanding graphic model, even Albarn himself all fuse into a convincing gestalt.

Like Erykah Badu and other retro-soul artists that have followed her, Alicia Keys is trying to redefine modern R&B by injecting it with jazz and blues. In Songs in A Minor, Keys accomplishes her goal with poise and skill.

Essence sounds full and rich even in its quietest moments, and her sweet-and-sour voice blends with the arrangements with subtle perfection.

Amnesiac plays like a streamlined version of Kid A, complete with blatant electronica moves and production that sacrifices songs for atmosphere.

Fans and involved listeners are definitely rewarded with increased dividends after multiple listens, but even they may wish for an album that harked back to the simpler days of the Premiers Symptomes EP and Moon Safari.

It's a sassy section of sultry soul and urban vibratos, yet a snarling demeanor asking for a little respect also peeks through the dozen-song set list.

This time out, Eitzel has built his arrangements around spare keyboard lines, atmospheric electronic samples, and percussion loops that blend with his voice and acoustic guitar to create an effect that suggest a more spare, organic version of Portishead, or a Jon Brion production that's stuck in a blue funk. But the new surroundings suit the songs quite well...

They've managed to ignore their ill fortune and suffer through the hecklers, and have -- in the best possible way -- given listeners a 54-minute soundtrack for the paper bag scene in American Beauty.

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.

While some listeners will welcome this growth and expansion of sound, longtime fans will doubtless lament the lack of pure intimacy and calm melancholy that enveloped Spain’s first and second albums.

At its best, the album seems to accomplish everything lagging post-shoegazers like Spiritualized or Chapterhouse once promised. However, at its worst, the album sometimes slides into an almost overkill of sonic structures

The whole gang sounds as good as ever.

This cuts back significantly on winding jams, upping the ante with tight songs and performances, a clean muscular production, and a lack of vocal histrionics from Popper

Cycle is ultimately no more than 50 minutes of standard-issue desolation, but the softness of many of the tracks gives it compassion, something most of Staind's peers have no time for.

The album's consistency easily outmatches even the highest watermarks of either predecessor.

Flow demonstrates that industrial music remains potent and vital in the early 2000s, and that one of its greatest pioneers is still one of its greatest innovators.

As contrived and calculated as a Mariah Carey record, only without the joy.

The problem is that the songwriting has gotten a little mannered, a little undistinguished, and the performances, while sturdy, tend to be slightly flat.

Dilate proves that the members of Bardo Pond keep finding ways to reinvent their sound, surpassing themselves each time they do.

While there are come similarities to their previous efforts Bedside Drama and The Gay Parade, Coquelicot is more ambitious in its concept, arrangements, lyrics, and even artwork.

The thick textures, crazy drawl vocals, and grand flair of later Modest Mouse albums such as The Lonesome Crowded West and The Moon & Antarctica are not fully realized on Sad Sappy Sucker.

This is her sexiest-sounding record, thanks to Jam and Lewis' silky groove and her breathy delivery, two things that make the record palatable throughout too many spoken interludes and songs that just don't quite click.

When it works, this can be pretty invigorating, but when it doesn't, it's utterly maddening.

It might come off as too much of a mish-mash if not for the tongue-in-cheek glee with which Leroy pulls it off.

A unique, epic effort from one of the most inventive and dynamic rock bands in recent memory.

Bucks expectations and actually makes good on the indie rock promise of the band's full-length debut, 1998's overhyped albeit underwhelming I Become Small and Go.

With the gleaming, self-aware production as well as both Danny Vicious' embarrassing rapping and Elisabeth Troy's overly soulful vocals, it's clear that Cole wants respect at every turn. Despite the consequences.

At best, a rich man's Air. At worst, tedious, superfluous, hippy-dippy, overly ironic trash. Lemon Jelly .KY can be both, of course -- often at the same time...

The album's long-delayed release only makes its joyous sound that much more refreshing; its inviting mix of gentle and fuzzy guitars and Kozelek's empathetic vocals make it the Painters' most hopeful, accessible work.

Simply the finest effort yet from the Bad Seeds; one which leaves the listener in awe, full of complex emotions and pondering the fact that they've just been in the presence of great art...

Cole, at age 40, seems comfortable with himself and his career -- quirks, blemishes, and all -- and one would be hard pressed to find any of his U.K. '80s contemporaries making such a strong, winningly melodic album... if they're still making albums at all.

This self-produced major-label debut boldly plunders a reverb-and-white noise course previously trampled underfoot by long-gone British bands of the late '80s and early '90s (the Jesus & Mary Chain, the Verve, Ride, the Stone Roses, etc.).

Isolation Drills sounds like the real rock album GBV have always wanted to make...

Train is a classic rock wannabe band in the mold of Counting Crows.

Whole New You may not contain a song that will spark sales and awards the way "Sunny Came Home" did, but anyone who, like the artist herself, has come to the safe harbor of family life (even with its many challenges) after a long, uncertain voyage through personal relationships and life experiences will appreciate Colvin's ruminations on the subject.

Still, no matter how many of these admittedly incredible rhymes end up surfacing over time thanks to his mother's part-earnest, part-exploitative efforts, the bottom line is that 2Pac never finished these songs -- there are a few fully developed songs here worth marveling over, just not nearly enough to justify the album's double-disc length

Arguably the band's most diverse set yet, and certainly their mellowest.... In the end, some may be disappointed by God Says No's all-around sense of restraint, but open-minded fans will have to acknowledge Wyndorf's courageous insistence on breaking new ground with his continually inspired songwriting.

In a few cases, the songs rival or eclipse material on Sound of Water, but they probably weren't included because they didn't fit the general, easygoing flow of the immaculately sequenced album.

It's painful to hear such floundering work by a performer who listeners know can do better.

Woozy, trance-like, and sublime...

Sparse, noir-tinged melancholia... If David Lynch should ever film a TV series in England, here are the soundtrack composers.

A series of hard-rockin', tight tunes...

Offers up one superb song after another.... Even if you don't consider yourself to be much a Latin music fan, do yourself a favor and check out Canto.

Choosing from a wide variety of Waits' material, Hammond infuses these unusual tracks with a bluesman's spirit and a crackling energy that practically reinvents the songs, instilling them with an ominous, rhythmic swampy feel.

To the duo's credit, Matmos avoids making A Chance to Cut Is a Chance to Cure grisly or gross; Andrew Daniel and Martin Schmidt approach the album's concept with their usual playfulness and an appropriately clinical detachment, resulting in some clever and surprisingly diverse songs

In the same vein as Saint Etienne, Ivy, and Emiliana Torrini, Autour de Lucie casts a spell.

Signals the welcome return of one of pop's finest groups.

Stag is punk done in the tradition of Patti Smith and the Replacements rather than the Sex Pistols. It is punk in its rebellious spirit, its contagious energy, and its anti-establishment calls to action. More than that, though, it is pure Amy Ray -- her activism and her artistry melding and achieving something remarkable.

Combines instantly accessible power pop, synth-pop, glam, grunge, and Brit-pop influences with the resulting songs fitting together so seamlessly to be somewhat indecipherable from each other.

The Blake Babies are back, melodic hooks and great songs in tow.

Their passion for hating Margaret Thatcher, the royal family, and the tyrannical moves by Parliament is a common theme comically twisted throughout the dozen track set list on We Love the City.

There may be some satirical, post-ironic thing going on here, but you'll be too bored to notice or care.

A few too many songs share tempos, melodies, and moods to make this a great Kristin Hersh album, but it's still a very good one that her longtime fans will appreciate.

Ten years since Rocket's first full-length, the sextet still sounds like they're on a live wire with an endless power source, as inspiring here as ever before.

Though Uh-Oh! wisely avoids overtly contemporary electronic styles in favor of exotica, lounge, bossa nova, soft rock, and analog synth tomfoolery, its 18 tracks are strangely amorphous, the aural equivalent of a lava lamp — equally kitschy and hypnotic.