Akon sounds more comfortable than expected, and he reduces the lechery in favor of longing ("I wanna make up right now") and awe ("When I see you, I run out of words to say"). At times, the tensionless backdrops don't inspire Akon to do much with his pen.

Enjoyment of the Rapture's Tapes necessitates unfamiliarity with the majority of its contents, indifference to acute sequencing and, naturally, deep interest in what the band views as classic and fresh.

The bottom line here, of course, is if you are a fan, you'll need this and won't debate its merit one way or another. If you're new to Kozelek, you'll no doubt be wowed by some of this and bored by the rest.

If not quite as enjoyable as "Unpredictable," Foxx's ability and personality make it easy to ride out the sags.

It isn't a disaster by any means--well-recorded, enthusiastic sounding songs are always a treat--but it's in the end pleasant, not striking.

In the City gets by on hooks and hugeness, like an irony-free Andrew W.K., Timbaland working with Aerosmith, or a jaded version of the Jonas Brothers now willing to drop the F-bomb.

Fans of esoteric underground rap should take notice. Worth investigating.

Grand isn't as majestic as its name suggests, with only a handful of songs moving past the anxious minimalism that permeated the last album. For returning fans, though, Grand provides a familiar brand of punk music for happy people, for lovebirds, for those who wish Mates of State had more swagger and less glockenspiel.

Recorded over a couple years and in various locations, the EP sounds like outtakes from "Emma," but not in a bad way.

A large part of Springsteen's appeal has always been how the E Street Band has sounded as big and open as his heart, but Working on a Dream, like "Magic" before it, has a production that feels tiny and constrained even as it is layered with extraneous details.

The band's ninth album continues the Austin-based ensemble's penchant for offbeat Southern minutia and melodious, after-hours juke joint revelry, but despite boasting production values that rival anything before it, Haymaker! feels less like the blow to the face that its title implies and more like a last quick rummage through the basement before the garage sale starts.

This is pure NPR music, all neo-jazz melodies and martini-lounge flourishes without the sly bite of its predecessor.

Fiction Family is slightly sprawling as a result, having been compiled over a number of years, but the track list takes strength in diversity as it alternates between sprightly duets and slow, Elliott Smith-styled melancholia.

It is stronger all-around than "Supernova," the poor 2001 album that never came out in the States, with the stitches less audible than the average post-humous album. And yet, nothing here comes close to rivaling the best TLC material.

You and I's stranger moments reveal that Cut Off Your Hands have more personality than the album's more tasteful songs suggest.

The Fray's sophomore release picks up where How to Save a Life left off, reprising the same blend of piano-led ballads and midtempo pop/rock that helped establish the band in 2005.

The fact they fit so well says a lot about this music, and while there are moments of genuine beauty and grace, this is a far cry from what these men achieved in their prime.

Season of Poison is bound to please fans of goth metal and electro-laced rock, and the gorgeous 'Frozen Oceans' appealingly finishes the album with lush balladry. Even so, this seems like a slight stumble after "We Are Pilots'" strong start, although Shiny Toy Guns have yet to lose their momentum.

Despite this barrage of invective, it's strangely reassuring hearing the oft-preprogrammed Hoobastank break free from their constraints.

Bemis and Conley may wield the most power here, but Two Tongues debut is a collaborative effort through and through, with the band taking measures to prove its debt to past traditions and present friends.

Neither horrible nor great, Time of the Assassins is an unassuming album, a working holiday that was probably more enjoyable to make than for anyone besides die-hard Strokes fans to hear.

There's no denying the sheer "angry basement workout/summer garage weightlifting" potential that Wrath's perfectly acceptable 45-minute running time offers, but without a single hook that sticks around long enough to reel in the fish, all you've got is bait.

It's his easy charm that turns Easy Does It into an effective piece of country-pop product.

Howlett is no slouch in the production chair, and the sounds are mostly blinding, but the songs are strictly by-the-books.

Upon first listen, No Line on the Horizon seems as if it would be a classic grower, an album that makes sense with repeated spins, but that repetition only makes the album more elusive, revealing not that U2 went into the studio with a dense, complicated blueprint, but rather, they had no plan at all.

As it is, Come Back can only be considered a noble attempt at something Ferree just didn't have the skills to pull off.

Empire of the Sun's debut offering of electro-pop experiments and dancefloor daydreams is well timed indeed, arriving just as the buzz surrounding MGMT's "Oracular Spectacular" has started to recede.

Apart from two minor issues, the Answer has the right sound and feel on Everyday Demons and that does make them the perfect opener for latter day AC/DC: they work as pleasant appetizer for the main course.