Journey to the West is perhaps best experienced on-stage, as it was meant to be heard in tandem with Chen Shi-Zheng and Hewlett's visuals, but heard as its own work, it's hard not to admire, if not exactly embrace, Albarn's achievement here, as his work is not only ambitious, it is serious and understated, the work of a true composer.

There's no need to search for deeper meanings or enlightenment on Internationally Unknown. Instead, Cardy and Armstrong invite listeners to let go and enjoy the ride, which is an energetic, wild blast.

Call it the signature of a surfer so bleached by the sun that he rushes nothing, but To the Sea substitutes the sunset strum-alongs of his earliest records for a sleek daytime sheen that might glimmer too brightly for hippies but it makes for a better overall pop record.

Without the energy and the sonic thrills, they are just another pop band making music that's little more than a momentarily pleasant diversion.

Raw but accomplished, tuneful yet noisy, on In the Belly of the Brazen Bull the Cribs are more comfortable with their contradictions than ever.

While these kinds of weird departures would be hard for any other band to pull off, Tres Cabrones shows that, even after 30 years, the Melvins are still as brash as ever, and the album feels like a fitting way for the band to ring in a big anniversary with an old friend who was there at the very beginning.

Eight cuts from the bookish indie rockers, including early favorites.

While there's some charm in the fact that Seger is loose enough to keep his ends untied, Ride Out is hobbled by that exacting production: conceptually, it's something of a ragged mess and it'd benefit from sounding like one.

Outwardly it's a fun album, triumphant and full of majestic refrains and riffs... but there's still something in it,... that makes it somehow all very sad.

This album isn't going to win Halstead too much favor critically or commercially, but anyone who holds songcraft, emotional restraint, and melodic grace in high regard should give the peaceful and sincere Oh! Mighty Engine a chance.

If in Both Sides of the Gun Harper is trying to show his audience what a wide variety of music he can cover, he certainly accomplishes that. But if he's trying to create an album that is really about him, he doesn't quite deliver. Ben Harper is in there, don't worry, but he can be a little hard to find.

This is a sleepier record than 2005's Dimmer, but it rewards the careful listener with enough waking dreams to fuel a hundred overcast Sunday mornings.

So while the performance isn't perfect, particularly toward the end of the show (where, after two hours of performing swing tunes and jazz standards, Wainwright is understandably low on steam), it's still nice to hear the singer in his element, crooning about dinging trolleys and zinging heartstrings with flamboyancy that only he can muster.

Light and pleasant, Run for Cover is also backed by a band that knows how to accompany all this vocal loveliness.

At its best, Danish & Blue finds Amos and Hall taking their sound in playful, unexpected directions with growing finesse.

This Machine Kills Artists is a worthy experiment, and a few tracks work rather well, but ultimately Osborne should aim for a more distinct game plan before he goes acoustic again.

Luckily, the new songs here aren't just filler between pre-existing singles; in fact, there are so many standouts that any of these songs could work as a single.

Range of Light's unifying theme of the Sierra range is heartfelt, and when enjoyed as a whole, the album succeeds as a unique effort that is familiar, yet distinct and extremely personal.

Kleerup can certainly be accused of repeating the same tricks over and over, but at least he has some remarkably effective (if not immensely distinctive) tricks — essentially, moderately paced and genially thumping robo-disco beats wedded to majestically buoyant chord progressions, played on synths that somehow manage to sound lush and punchy at the same time, with some bonus keyboard flutters for icing.

Fun, inventive, swaggering, and smart, Finally Famous is an exciting debut.

Her musical vision and production skills are almost astonishing in places. [But] American Doll Posse is a work that has its problems due to its sprawling nature.

It's another impressive album that shows Haden to be a truly talented singer and vocal arranger, and one that fans of movie music done in a non-traditional fashion should find quite interesting.

This easygoing, smooth, and poppy record stands tall next to their finest work and only comes up a little short because it lacks the one or two killer songs that make their best albums really pop. Still, it's a nice addition to their catalog and perfect for fans of loud but not too loud, wild but not too wild, modern rock & roll.

Grand Duchy have enough fun on the album that more often than not, it's contagious.

While there's no real dance anthem in the bunch, World Be Gone does deliver on vocals and memorable Vince Clarke melodies, as well as on arrangements that add some oomph to slower tempos. At the time of its release, it seems on point.

Lissie's strength is how she uses the past as foundation, not aspiration, and that's why Back to Forever is a lithe, unpredictable, and seductive collection of modern pop: it places equal emphasis on song and sound.

Fans of Bachmann's gruff Neil Diamond-meets-Steve Earle vocals and lonesome and literate subject matter will find everything they love about the Carolina native on display, while those who prefer his vocal affectations surrounded by the din of a full band should stick with his group efforts.

Hello, the group's second issue for Alternative Tentacles, highlights the rock side of this noise rock ensemble more than any of their previous albums.