While a more focused production ethic might have made for a more consistent album, Pale Fire still goes places the last album never dreamed and hopefully opens doors for even more drastic developments to come.

What she undoubtedly is, is a pro--she sells these subdued glitzy productions, she makes boring songs interesting, she remains a forceful, tangible presence.

Amoral or not, this album serves as a reminder that the superficial can still sound pretty super.

The artifice outweighs the substance throughout Rock n Roll.

In many ways, the Cambridge, MA, trio is like a Toad the Wet Sprocket for the 21st century.

A definitive work of sorts since he's at the top of his game as both a craftsman and conman.

"Annie I Owe You a Dance" has too many strings, and the poignant, "37405," a narrative about a country singer turned convict, could have been leaner. But these are small complaints on a solid and ambitious recording. On Two Lanes of Freedom, McGraw proves he is indeed the artist that Curb never let him be.

Melodic and heartfelt, Austin surprises at nearly every turn, whether that's by an unexpected sonic detour or the simple fact that Post Malone has never sounded this fearless.

As a whole, End of the Day taps into the stillness that's flowed through Tell Me How You Really Feel and Things Take Time, Take Time, a melancholy that's as restorative as it is depressive. That feeling when not married to singing and lyrics winds up offering some measure of comfort. Free of melody, hooks or other organizing themes, this music merely floats, a soothing sound to those who share its wavelength.

It's all done with skill and to great effect, and the album is good for mood-setting background or forefront reflection, or for some combination of the two.

Anjulie is quite impressive as an opening salvo from a talented musical collagist whose minor flurry of hype is well-warranted.

With a somewhat re-jiggered lineup, they pick up the thread of that release with the follow-up, Light a Candle.

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.

The Remixes is as well balanced as it is eclectic, finding room for tracks that clearly bear the stamp of their remixers.

It makes for a big and a bit cumbersome listen, but K-Os is best when he's true to his moniker, offering the listener an unpredictable and unclassifiable blitzkrieg of ideas that range from clever to brilliant.

As a whole, this album might be less coherent than Native To, where Is Tropical spent their time delivering variations on one sound. Track for track, however, I'm Leaving is the more interesting and promising set of songs.

Semi Detached is sincere in its distrust, distaste, and ire, and by the time "Bloody Hell Fire" underlines it all as a dour closer, the album winds up a worthy companion for bad days or chucking it all.

Like its predecessor, Who Me? is a showcase for Wauters' quirky, likeable personality, and balances introspective lyrics with laid-back instrumentation.

Warren has talked in interviews about the healing nature of music, both on the songwriting end and the listening end; some listeners will likely connect on that level with Numun and, amid its airiness, its substance.

Collected, the songs are simultaneously familiar and surprising -- a blend that always was among the chief attractions in Cornell's work -- and while there are echoes of the original recordings here, he shapes each tune to fit his voice and contemplative bent. The inherent power in Cornell's voice can still be heard, but what lasts is the passion and intelligence, emotions that make this a bracing if bittersweet experience.

demon time unfortunately turns out to be underwhelming.

If it was pared down to its best tracks, Winchester Cathedral would make a solid EP. As it stands, it's far from bad, but it's a little boring, which is worse than bad from a band that has sounded so unique in the past.

Her most fully realized album yet and a highlight in a career dotted with really good pop records.

Piss in the Wind is fairly depressing at times, offering just a few short moments to perk up the 21-track runtime, which shouldn't surprise longtime fans of Joji's wounded, narcotic beauty.

With Beast Moans, Swan Lake has married the talent and off-kilter intelligence of all three of its members with something more abstract, more visceral, something that sets it apart from all of their individual work.

It's a Business Doing Pleasure with You bristles with Kroeger's barely veiled, unwitting hostility, something that the big-hearted McGraw doesn't wear well--not in the least, because it sounds like a boneheaded swipe at his jetsetting wife Faith Hill--and it's something he wisely side-steps on the rest of the record, choosing to mine a sentimental, meditative vein, musing on major changes in his life and wondering what will happen after he's gone.

Everywhere at Once is reminiscent of what's already been done, either by the rapper himself or by another artist, almost derivative of itself, and as a whole, altogether disappointing.

One iffy joke don't stop no show, so take White Women as fun, frivolous, and floor-filling stuff where that slick '80s flair is gloriously bolstered by that modern dancefloor punch.