As pure music, Black Label Society remain as effective as they ever were on Order of the Black.

Somehow, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World's music remains true not just to the comic, but to the work of everyone involved in the story at every stage, with plenty of fun and heart to boot.

This third chapter in the Budos Band's legacy is a giant step forward. That said, for band and listener alike, nothing is lost in this gambit; everything just gets deeper and wider and the payoff is nearly immeasurable.

Despite their changes, PVT remain as hard to pin down as ever, and Church with No Magic is admirable, if not exactly embraceable.

It's serious without being preachy, cynical without dissolving into apathy, and whimsical enough to keep both sentiments in line, and of all of their records, it may be the one that ages so well.

Wavves sometimes gets carried away--"Neon Balloon" and its sea of synth gurgles and helium vocals is near silly--but when Williams finds his stride and carves the tube of punky psych sonics, the results are totally awesome.

On Tin Cast Trust, Los Lobos prove that tough times don't last, but tough music does, and those are words we can all live by.

As it stands, Transit Transit is a beautifully executed work that would have made the band solid contenders if it had been released back in 1992.

This is the sound of seasoned veterans still finding new ways to play old favorites.

This isn't just a logical follow-up to 2008's excellent The City That Care Forgot, it's close to a career-defining summation from one of America's most important musicians.

While this hardly supplants those originals, Spot the Difference is a fun spin for the devoted and a good advertisement for Squeeze's reunion tour, proving they still have the knack to entertain.

As with most of The House, songs like the folk-inflected opener "I'd Love to Kill You," the Eastern-tinged "The Flood," and the yearning and pretty "Red Balloons," take time to build and grab you slowly with deft, biting lyrics and Melua's lilting, burnished vocals.

The album doesn't quite knit together seamlessly, but that doesn't mean there isn't plenty of interesting stuff here. If anything, Where The Messengers Are is an easily measurable improvement over their debut.

Back with the 808 boom, the stone-cold rhymes, and that sturdy, warrior soul, Bun B is officially crowned consistent with his third solo effort, the satisfying Trill O.G.

Weareallgoingtoburninhellmegamixxx3 is a logical progression from his hectic early work as genres like dubstep and grime have since appeared to increase the pressure. Extended runs of uptempo numbers are something new for the man, and the album refuses to chill until it takes a breather on track six

If they can't quite deliver the songs or hooks--and they can't--they need to have the attitude, which they do here.

Even in the heavier moments, the album plays with a cool, unruffled composure that seems more easygoing than prior outings, making for a comfortable, welcome return.

The man is full of contradictions and lyrics that demand deciphering, so Str8 Killa becomes an excellent entry point, maybe by default and maybe by design. Either way, it's a necessary purchase for gangsta rap fans and a gateway drug that will send you straight to the mixtape underground.

The California-bred Hoop does indeed have plenty of additional idiosyncratic ideas to offer, not just lyrically but musically, on her second album, Hunting My Dress.

Luckily, the sound of the band remains unchanged, and as one of the best drummers in the business, Portnoy picks up the reigns and rides the Deathbat's double kick in complete synchronicity with Gates, Christ, and Vengeance.

Praise & Blame winds up an undeniably excellent album that you're either ready for or you're not.

Drifting between order and disarray, Menomena's fourth album is like an exercise in controlled chaos.

Crazy for You is meant to be an album that creates a mood, a feeling of gentle despair and wistful longing that grows with each song. On that count, it's a complete success.

Ten singles--these voices could have used some better material--but the album will likely please most of the fan base, as it is a rather skillful update of the familiar.

Beach Fossils may be very 2010 but they aren't just along for the ride, they're driving the bandwagon.

The album is certainly more in vogue than Tell It to the Volcano--its blippy keyboards and amorphous arrangements sound very 2010--but that doesn't keep it from sounding less gratifying than the band's debut, which prized a good pop hook above all else.

Whether it works or not depends on whether you're in the love him or the hate him camp, but no compromise is just what his fans signed up for in the first place. The Darkside, Vol. 1 is a mean beast of an album that will surely make Joe's army re-enlist for Vol. 2.

In the end, a necessary acquisition for fans or an easy way for newcomers to judge whether they are wacky enough to join the Major's cyberpunky reggae party.