All the Hives really need is energy and good songs, and they have enough of both on Lex Hives to bring smiles to their fans' faces.

Throughout it all, his rich, lived-in baritone, which can go from a funereal dirge to a supernatural caterwaul in a matter of seconds, delivers the goods like the world's most demented herald, but even at his most fevered, he remains such an engaging figure, that it's nearly impossible to look away from the scene of the crime, even as the blood begins pooling around the listeners' feet.

It's safe to say that Cold Roses is the record many fans have been waiting to hear -- a full-fledged, unapologetic return to the country-rock that made his reputation when he led Whiskeytown.

West is flawless; it is actually destined to become a classic.

This is the record that finally matches the excitement Harper generates in a live setting and is not to be missed.

The thicker, more driving songs resemble a polished, warm Curve, whipping up squalls of noise over robust played-and-programmed rhythms that soar more often than batter.

Since her voice is clear and lovely, the songs are tuneful without being flashy, and the production is quiet, subtly layered, George makes All Rise seem easy, and it's only when the record is over that it dawns on you what a rich, rewarding album it is.

[A] knack for re-creating the already re-created sounds of their peers keeps rearing up on Hurricane Bar, and it docks the album points in the genuineness department.

As a whole, it feels a bit too laid-back, especially given its nearly 70-minute length.

While Best Intentions doesn't reinvent the wheel, listeners will enjoy spending some more time with We Are the In Crowd.

Nothing here reinvents country, but what the Dirt Drifters do is sound natural and grounded with their sound.

It's all arranged like a well-sequenced album, with some tracks slightly altered for the sake of maintaining a steady flow. No energy swing is jarring, yet it's no sonic flatland. It suits its purpose with a dark, warm glow.

All in all, Here We Are is a promising debut, and Citizens! manage the impressive feat of borrowing from lots of different eras--'70s glam, '80s synth pop, '90s Brit-pop--without drowning in nostalgia.

Even at a well-established level and decades into his craft, Vai takes some surprising risks on The Story of Light, and the album almost always benefits from them.

At times, Nanobots feels like Join Us' more melancholy flip side, and even if this album isn't quite as immediate as the one before it, it shows how They Might Be Giants can continue in the vein they've excelled at for decades and build on it, too.

Although Cullum got his start during the jazz singer boom of the early 2000s, with Momentum he's proven once again to be a musically eclectic songwriter with more than enough creative speed to keep him going for years to come.

While these few songs ["Losing a Friend" and "That Girl, That Scene"] threaten to derail the album, the rest of the set is more unified, offering an understated but brilliant celebration of both Frankie & the Heartstrings' unique songwriting and their catalog of classic pop influences.

The warmth of the album comes through in the songwriting, its lyrical content, and the soft-edged production, capturing an insular sense of self-exploration as well as something more universally reaching.

This is essentially a greatest hits that offers no real surprise in either songs or arrangements (the exception being "It's Only Rock N Roll," which now sounds more Chuck Berry than ever), but that doesn't mean Hyde Park Live isn't satisfying.

While Allen either wrote or co-wrote all the tracks on the album, it's his stellar and flexible guitar work that is the highlight.

In the end, it's an admirable and interesting effort where the highs offset the lows, but those with molly in hand and dancing shoes on feet should just cool their jets and get ready to sit a spell.

While the jumping-off points are clear, enough personality and disjointed arrangement keep More moving along in a way more familiarly dreamy than derivative.

I Don't Dance may sink its teeth in slightly slowly, but that's Brice's style: he lets the listener come to him and, once they're there, he offers a warm seduction that lasts not just for a night but for a relationship.

While Crushed Beaks' mix of brash and dreamy sounds is promising, it often seems like they're still figuring out how to make it work.

More atmospheric than their regional contemporaries Baroness, but just as keen on opening up the blast furnace doors when an exclamation point is needed, Royal Thunder spend much of Crooked Doors skillfully dancing around the almighty power ballad (the Nazareth radio standard mentioned earlier looms large throughout), but not truly succumbing until the very end.

Sparks still sounds like she's finding a voice of her own.

An album that deliberately side-steps many of Thomas' signature moves while still sounding unmistakably like him.

It's unapologetically slick with major pop aspirations, but the Arkells have shown that they can play to the masses while continuing to challenge and entertain themselves.