At its best, Pop Monster injects plenty of fresh ideas into the Broods' repertoire, offering a handful of confident and polished gems that could have made for a stunning album if they had just sharpened their focus. Otherwise, lackluster inclusions that echo Lorde's sophomore shift dull the effort, which distracts from the excitement that occasionally shines through.

Get Hurt shows that so long as they're passionate about their music, it doesn't matter where the band are getting their inspiration from, because genuinely caring about something is always compelling.

There's an argument to made that Yelawolf's entry into the world of official releases is a bit too cluttered with distractions -- stars, prime beats, and big-time hooks -- to be considered a proper showcase, but when given room, he shines through.

There's nothing overtly bad about Beacon; it shows that Two Door Cinema Club still have a remarkable knack for winsome melodies and harmonies set to kinetic beats. It just doesn't have the spark that Tourist History had, even if it's a more accomplished album overall.

As a vocalist, this may not be his natural forte, but he takes great care with the songs, and that palpable love is enough to make Kisses on the Bottom worth a spin or two.

Some judicious editing on the band's part would have made this a worthy follow-up to their first two excellent albums but as it stands, it's more of a confused and confusing record that is hard to recommend to anyone except fans who came on board when O was released.

Over-processed and chaotic it may be, but never bereft of invention, Complete Me is always an intriguing listen that confirms the arrival of one of the U.K. dance scene's most exciting talents.

Their richest and most varied album to date.

Throughout the record, Sheeran seems assured in his smooth schtick, and that cheesy confidence, combined with the hints of new style, help make Divide his easiest album to enjoy.

The Outsider is a carefully crafted, artistically elusive mess -- far more scattershot than even his first UNKLE record (Psyence Fiction), but much more interesting for its excellent productions.

Like 2018's Everything Was Beautiful, and Nothing Hurt, All Visible Objects is a highlight in Moby's late-era catalog, a revitalization that serves both his passionately held beliefs and his core sound.

What's truly appealing about Grainger's solo effort is the fun he's obviously having.

Once again, N.E.R.D. are at their best when they abandon all regard for the Hot 100.

O pure musical terms they're more gripping than many of their peers, displaying a restless sense of musicality that often makes Paper Walls interesting even if means they can stray toward areas that are just a shade too indulgent for their own good.

Think of this as a run-of-the-mill Khaled album and that mill is still doing pretty awesome.

The man behind the Gangsta Grillz mixtapes and the man literally behind T.I. and his Grand Hustle crew continues to do the improbable on his 2012 release Quality Street Music.

It does indeed have light shade and a nice melodic bent that counters the slightly desperate rock & roll found elsewhere on the album.

Green may not be a sonic wizard, and her songs may cover familiar topics in a familiar way, but she fills the album with songs you'll be humming to yourself all day long, adding to mixes, and sharing with friends who are into weird pop-punk, and that's what's most important in the end.

Outsides is yet another strange installment in Frusciante's unabashedly weird and sometimes uncomfortably naked evolution as a solo artist.

The songs ultimately blur into one extensive blast of rugged emotion and high energy, dazzling in their urgency and always threatening to crumble out of precise playing into unhinged noise.

Yuck may be bereft of any edges, but it's devilishly clever sophisti-pop disguised as big- box shopping center background music.

The album is potentially valuable as a source for samples, but it fails as a listening experience.

These United States are trying to transport the listener back to a conversation among a group of weed-smoking flower children circa 1971/1972, but lyrically, they continue to miss the mark and end up sounding pretentious instead. Nonetheless, they do have an appealing sense of melody, and despite this album's shortcomings, one doesn't want to give up on These United States just yet.

On MPLSound, Prince takes his retro mission seriously enough to offer up a few songs nervy enough to be singles, even if the synthesized thrill of this handful of tunes is undercut by a bunch of slow-burning ballads that do their best to rival 'The Arms of Orion.'

Language is short on originality, but Zulu Winter's polished musicianship and warm confidence may be enough to win over listeners who enjoy the bands they reference here, and when they do succeed in shaking things up it's enough to leave listeners wanting more.

As sheer performance, Eminem's vocals remain a thing of wonder, which is why it's so dispiriting to hear him circling the drain, relying on old tricks instead of expanding his worldview. He has the musical skills to mature; he's just refusing to let himself act his age.

Often, the individual pieces of this patchwork pop are more captivating than the overall image, yet there's still an undeniable appeal to Urie and Smith's crazed earnest energy.

There are plenty of bands who literally spend a decade working up to an album as well-crafted, confident, and powerful as The Head and the Heart, and these folks managed to knock it out in a bit over a year; is they can make this particular bit of lightning strike twice, we may be looking at one of America's best new bands.