2011's Heaven is a stylish, expertly produced contemporary R&B and pop album that showcases Ferguson's emotive, soulful voice.

Another solid and easy to recommend effort in a discography that already has a couple.

At 17 tracks/diary entries, some of which feel like cast-offs from previous sessions, it feels a little bit indulgent, but maybe, considering the subject matter, that was the intention after all.

[The album's] drifting momentum makes 2:54 a lot like taking a trip on a train, allowing listeners to simply sit back and enjoy the scenery without needing to think too much about how they're getting from one end of the journey to the other.

A Kiss Before You Go has its fingers in so many pies that it's unlikely to be appreciated entirely by many, but listened to in small portions, it's difficult not to be enamored by its inventiveness and inherent avant-garde charm.

Their version of soul revival captures the sweat and fire of classic soul music better than almost anyone else in 2012.

These songs may not be self-styled major statements, but they are endearing and enduring, as is Ram itself, which seems like a more unique, exquisite pleasure with each passing year. Hardcore fans will definitely find the big set to be a worthwhile investment.

Natural History [is] something of a stop-start effort rather than an unqualified success, but if Dope Body can keep playing around with elements like the grinding, crackling hook of "Out of My Mind," it'll be interesting to see what a third album can bring.

Its lack of more compelling compositional ideas and some of its ham-fisted production problems are balanced by the fact that Santana is not coasting on his rep any longer; he's trying, and he's playing the hell out of the guitar again.

Heartfelt, ragged, and stoic.

Vol. 1's heavier layers of glimmering guitar, celestial synths, and twinkling percussion flourishes serve more to create distance between Caulfield and the listener than convey that earlier intimacy in a new way.

Though it never feels disjointed, it never feels fully realized, either. In the end, it's hard to tell exactly what the album is aiming for, but taken as another rowdy set of tunes from a living legend, Night & Day delivers from both sides of whichever dichotomy it's grappling with at any given moment.

[Space Homestead] could almost be a summary of their approach rather than taking their work to the next level, but Space Homestead succeeds precisely because MV & EE have so clearly constructed their particular vision.

This is another step into the sonic and lyric terrain plowed on Retribution, but one in which SF's aggressive, thrashing abandon, musical sophistication, and melodies co-exist in near perfect balance.

An impressive debut, Passage has as many great moments as it does moments that suggest future greatness.

Apocalyptic Love never tries too hard, so it winds up satisfying on its own limited scale.

What once was futuristic now sounds nostalgic -- or to borrow a title from another member from the class of 1995, "Brand New You're Retro" -- and that's the appeal of Not Your Kind of People, for better or worse.

Cancer4Cure is about hip-hop like Glengarry Glen Ross was about sales, but these great works transcend their industries, offering solace and inspiration to anyone who would prefer a satisfied mind over a Cadillac Eldorado, or in current terms, an Escalade.

Ya Know? is a loving and generous tribute to a beloved hero of the New York rock scene, but the results never match the energy, focus, and sheer rock & roll fun of even The Ramones' lesser efforts, and it doesn't work as well as Don't Worry About Me.

Opus Primum [contains] striking passages of ethereal beauty.

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.

Choice of Weapon is the Cult's finest moment in 23 years; it's the true swaggering heir to the period that birthed Electric and Sonic Temple, and proof that contrary to even Astbury's stated belief in 2009 that the album is far from dead.

The Light the Dead See [is] not just an exciting meeting of troubled minds, but a well designed full-length, offering a persuasive rainy day soundtrack that works even when there's not a cloud in the sky.

Rize of the Fenix does amount to a rousing comeback for Tenacious D: they're back to their old tricks, oblivious to whether the world at large actually cares about their shenanigans.

Too bad it all falls apart so drastically when you factor in Cosentino's disastrous lyrics.

It's not the band's most immediate music, but the album's challenging mix of heartbroken words and aloof sounds rewards patient and repeated listening.

For the most part, Kimbra's invention is a marvel to behold, as her enchanting and swooping jazz-pop tones glide across a veritable feast of sounds

There's a confidence about the performances on the album that make Go! Pop! Bang! a debut full of enthusiasm and promise that will hopefully ring in the beginning of a bright new talent.