Performed with a full backing band, which includes guitarist Dan Sullivan from Nad Navillus, Songs: Ohia stretches out on Fantasma, allowing Molina's songs to breathe but never sounding gratuitous, like a slightly subdued Crazy Horse.

Arguably, some prudent pruning might've made the album great instead of good, but even the album's uneven moments are still pretty enjoyable.

Crams every last piece of the Offspring puzzle -- slickly produced rock racket, hints of anti-establishment rabble-rousing, and reams of relationship and strip mall culture gaggery -- into its brief half-hour run time.

His authoritative vocals demand immediate attention and his brutal array of battle rhymes are utterly breathtaking.... While the pugilistic MC shows growth as an artist, Canibus' vast potential remains largely unrealized thanks to bland production.

The new Puppets are a surprisingly heavy, hard-rocking outfit, turning in one of the loudest records in the group's catalog. It's also one of the best-produced, boasting a thick, full, shiny sound.

Peace & Love remains something of a mood piece--it’s ruminative, not rousing, never succumbing to navel-gazing but not suited for large crowds--which does mean it doesn’t quite have the undeniable power of How to Walk Away, but when a softly melancholy mood strikes, this provides comforting consolation.

This weird and often wonderful ride broadens the scope, painting Desiigner as a much darker rapper with his hallucinatory music just skirting on the surface of a bad trip.

The trio has crafted a record that measures up to My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy musically and delivers enough emotional charge to power a small town for a month.

Bedingfield plays it exceptionally safe, to the extent that she even tones down the self-empowerment of her first two records, preferring pristine blue-eyed soul and adult contemporary ballads, all tailored for an aspirational upscale lifestyle.

A Joyful Noise isn't as raw or immediate as any of the Gossip's earlier albums, which makes it a bit of a grower for anyone attached to the band's previous firepower.

It's a sonic monument to marvel at, not a piece of art that's asking for your engagement.

All told, on top of Yukon Blonde's engaging songwriting, production by Tiger Talk's Colin Stewart and mixing by Tony Hoffer (OK Go, Depeche Mode, the Kooks) combine for a winning dose of sensual, high-octane, synth-psych indie grub.

A Pill for Loneliness suffers from its own consistency as one vaporous, albeit pretty, track blends into the next without leaving much of an impact. Still, as a vehicle for Green's talents, it hits enough highs to mark another worthwhile chapter in City and Colour's development.

After three or four of these hard-to-follow stylistic roadmaps, however, the excitement quickly becomes exhaustion, and Sleep Token's overly-polished sound starts to feel more overwrought than enjoyable.

World Beyond amplifies how efficient Erasure's own arrangements are, while at the same time giving Bell more space to command the room, which he does, with nuanced performances.

Gavin DeGraw won't change things, either, as it pretty much offers more of the same as "Chariot," polishing up the sound, turning it into something bigger and slicker, but not changing his vaguely rootsy, vaguely soulful pop a whit.

She's smart to keep things light and positive--it's a deliberately youthful sound in an era that yearns for maturity--but by working the same territory so carefully, the seams in her construction are difficult to ignore.

He continues to process trauma, grief, and guilt, with tracks like "Pelle Coat" and the J. Cole-featuring "All My Life" being some of his more emotional material to date.

Even with its flaws, When Your Heart Stops Beating possesses a surprising vulnerability, which gives the album an understated strength and makes it such an enjoyable listen.

There is charm to Starr’s tried and true: exciting it is not but it’s as comforting as an old friend who doesn’t change, he just stays the same.

For the most part, Out of Frequency is a joyous and effortlessly vivacious slice of Scandinavian pop which yet again brings a refreshing, childlike quality to the '60s retro table.

Catfish & the Bottlemen hit their marks dutifully, rushing through their melodies but never taking it so quick that the singsong tunes don't stick, slowing down the tempo for needed breathers and ending the whole shebang with "Outside," an extended number designed to ratchet up expectations prior to the obligatory encore.

Horns and lush backing vocals do appear here and there, as does a slightly misguided dip into a borderline cartoonish vocal baritone on the otherwise strong "Ol' Man River," but the best parts of American Standard occur in the intimate moments that constitute Taylor's wheelhouse and of which there are more than enough to satisfy.

This is one to keep handy when graceful and cool are what's required, since Pillowfight are happy when it rains, and happiest when it mists at twilight.

By delivering this big, sloppy valentine to everything he is and everything he loves, he's not being neat but he is true to himself.

This release is a bit more synth-driven, and songs like "Taking off for France" and "Taxi" exude a sophisticated disco flair that's naturally linked to Cracknell's sweet but smooth persona.

A bunch of even-handed adult-pop that is melodic without being tuneful, or memorable for that matter.

There's an excessive attention to detail to each song, and that tunnel vision means each song runs about a minute or two longer than it should.... That's unfortunate because the core of the album is quite good.