The sameyness is still there, granted, but like [Neil] Young, his spiritual godfather, Mascis has a way of making his ramshackle melodies are downright endearing, and if you're a kindhearted soul, that'll allow you to forgive the half-assed stuff.

As with most of Johnston's albums, there a few songs that just fall flat or come off as a little too coy, but overall, it's a quality addition to the catalog of one of songwriting's true originals.

A diverse, accomplished album that manages to be unabashedly emotional, playful, and ambitious all at the same time.

At Crystal Palace's compressed complexity makes it a more consistent album, as well as proof that the band shows no signs of slowing down or mellowing out anytime soon.

Fans of Led Zeppelin may not take to these stylistic changes well, but Plant's adventurous tendencies are well placed on the ten songs here.

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

Despite some tedious melodramatics, Fall Back Open is a decent sophomore effort.

Afrodisiac is Brandy's fourth consecutive durable showing, fluffed out with a few innocuous — if still very listenable — filler moments, but it is stocked with a number of spectacular -- and emotionally resonant -- singles that wind up making for her most accomplished set yet.

This is a comeback record to be proud of; it not only sates the appetite of those fans who felt Linda Thompson left the scene too abruptly, but it is also the British folk record that everyone interested in the genre has been waiting such a long time for.

A collection of songs that are as clever and intelligently crafted as they are danceable.

The bottom line is Troubled, Shaken Etc is an album: paced, sequenced, structured, and produced as such. It's utterly lovely, feminine, and subtly adventurous.

Those two sounds [folk and country] are the best vehicles for the kind of solipsism Mayer engages in on Born and Raised, where he does his best to sound sorrowful and contrite yet manages to stumble upon his own deep-seated desire to remain a lover-man.

This is music made from a band that has been through the wringer and is happy to settle down and play, and there's an undeniable appeal to that open heart, particularly when it's camouflaged underneath such nominally heavy music.

This album expands the very definition of musical collaboration.

Curve of the Earth wastes little time in setting the controls for the heart of the sun with the lead single "Telomare," a big, atmospheric blast of anthemic, mid-'90s stadium rock that segues nicely into the equally dreamy "Bombay Blue." From there things bounce back and forth between the bucolic and the sublime.

Nothing had every element in place to make Guilty of Everything very close to brilliant, a modern shoegaze/noise rock classic; on Tired of Tomorrow, they seem to have lost their way and have made something quite standard issue and disappointing.

When artists reach a certain point in their careers, they can maintain the status quo or they can challenge themselves; Ranaldo chooses the latter on Electric Trim, imbuing his poetic cool with earnest, quixotic charm that makes this some of his most wonderfully unpredictable music yet.

Sure, Max Martin's hooks, and especially Dr. Luke's neon-colored throb push these tunes into your head--they're in top form, aided by the tight focus of an eight-track EP, Cannibal's brevity trumping the scattershot Animal--but what makes them stick is Kesha, a pop star lacking pop star looks and a pop star voice.

If anything, Gloucester County proves that Smith is willing to let his unique style mature, which may at some point provide some insight into one of the underground's most elusive personalities.

These songs stand on their own and bode well for the second album.

All told, Gods of Violence proves well worth the wait. Kreator proves--yet again--that the kids still have a lot to learn when it comes to keeping thrash viable.

As "The Reverend" closes things with another shot of the band at its finest, it underscores that even an inconsistent Eagles of Death Metal album is still a lot of fun.

Confessional and insular, Love Letters is the work of a band willing to take pop success on their own terms and reveal a different--but just as appealing--side of their artistry in the process.

Jourgensen's covers are usually all-party time, but this album holds no hope for and finds no joy in America and expresses it brilliantly.

Though trimmed down from more than a half-hour of unedited movements, the lengthy piece begins to drag almost immediately, and its droning, slow transitions are the only weak spots on an otherwise captivating and sonically rich collection.

The man writes honest, beautifully crafted songs that are adult enough to ponder, tough enough to rock, and tender enough to pull -- not tug -- on the heartstrings.

If "Love and Distance" was the album that pushed the Helio Sequence off the rails, Keep Your Eyes Ahead is the sound of the duo getting back on track.

A headlong rush of an album, Pala is accomplished, bold, and very, very danceable; everything Friendly Fires' debut promised and more.