All this record does is break the heart of anyone who fell in love with Yuck because of that album, and that's a real shame.

A sort of cosmic, high-def honky tonk that for the most part proves tasty, injecting some much needed brevity into windy frontman Eric Earley's colorful yet often perfunctory tales of sin and redemption.

As with any compilation, it plays a bit unevenly at times, but overall, Say Yes! is a solid listen born out of great respect for Smith's legacy.

Stranger has its cloud-rap niche and should please listeners eager to enter this world, but casual rap fans should arm themselves with enough patience and caffeine before taking the plunge.

This slick homage to electronic hippie music sounds like two smart guys having genuine fun playing something they love.

Though this makes for a different kind of listening experience than fans might be used to, it's one that's ultimately pretty satisfying, feeling like it's not just manifesting the will and desire of the Polyphonic Spree's fans, but also reflecting the mission of brightness and hope that the band has been on for over a decade now.

Dangerfield’s solo foray is a (for the most part) sparse production (it was recorded in just five days), and that extra room is a little jarring at first, but fans of the band, as well as the elusive quarry that is love, will no doubt walk away from Fly Yellow Moon a step or two lighter.

The sunshiny pop of Sun, Sun, Sun is more magical in comparison to Me First. It features some of Sennett's most brilliant work to date, and the band's overall summery sound is much more cohesive here.

While both the sternly Chassidic and sternly roots reggae factions of his fanbase might find it disappointing, Spark Seeker holds plenty of life and appeal.

The Glass Passenger might not bare the same pop hooks as "Everything in Transit," but it does stay afloat under the weight of McMahon's past, which bodes well for the songwriter's future work.

Too many of the cuts appear pieced together in the studio, never once capturing the energy of a band playing live.

It may be flawed and the rapper's attitude is sometimes one step ahead of his output, but he hasn't sounded this unfiltered and proud since The Marshall Mathers LP.

Pitbull's Global Warming is the spicy pop-rap place to forget the world's problems, so forgive the fat, forgive the mess, and enjoy the heat.

Self-describing their sound as "fight-pop," the impossible-to-type Scottish six-piece Dananananaykroyd stay true to their word on second album There Is a Way, which appears to be waging a war against staying in tune, coherent lyrics, and the concept of subtlety on 12 anarchic tracks that attempt to pummel listeners into submission.

cta is Hit the Lights' ultimate bid for mainstream acceptance and also the quintet's strongest album to date.

While anyone hoping for more of the same old Fear Factory will find a lot to love about The Industrialist, those who have been hoping for something different might find that the album isn't quite what they were looking for.

"March of the Wizards" and "Chameleons Tale," just end up sounding boring and out of place. Subtract these songs and The Return of Love is an impressive album that does almost exactly what it sets out to do, and sounds very pleasant while doing it.

While even those fond of the '90s revival may be close to overdosing on nostalgia, Empire offers a fresh enough take to make it worth a listen.

There is much to like about Green's music, but if Haul Away! is indeed part of a potential trilogy, let's hope the songwriting on her third offering outweighs its stylish ambitions.

This is something better: a record designed to carry on the tradition of smooth, fizzy bubblegum into the new millennium and, against all odds, it succeeds mightily.

Kelly Jones and his crew know how to craft big music, knowing that often the atmosphere matters more than melody.

As moving as it is to hear her and Chilli together for another album, the material is not up to par with TLC's past. Flashbacks are more likely than repeat play.

Brown combines memorable hooks with some stellar production work on the rubbery disco-funk of "Add Me In" (courtesy of Danja) and the blithe, swaying "Time for Love" (a collaboration with Jean Baptiste and Free School). In these and a few other songs, romantic affection, expressed with seemingly genuine sweetness, takes precedence over sexual aggression and petulance.

Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings is a rock record in the grandest and most polished sense of the word: it wears its lineage proudly, and imparts emotions directly and brazenly honestly no matter how pretty or shiny the picture is.

To Chesney's credit, he's as appealing on this set of relaxed tunes as he was on its gleaming, ultra-modern predecessor, and taken together, they are strong proof that he's one of best singers and songwriters working in contemporary country music in the mid-'00s.

McLachlan simply sounds like McLachlan here, seemingly unaged by the seven years that have elapsed since her last record and unconcerned with new trends.

It's aural candy for aging goths and tortured tweens alike.

Polished instead of rough, thoughtful instead of brash, Donkey isn't an outright failure, but it certainly is an odd and sometimes disappointing move from a band that didn't necessarily need to change its direction.