Discounting Losing's debt to the past, this is a high-grade garage rock record chock-full of emotionally honest, melodically engaging tunes. It may feel a little too familiar for those who experienced the '90s alt-rock boom firsthand, but those who didn't will no doubt be able to extract and enjoy its vibrancy.

Better then to treat World Wide Funk less like an addition to an immense discography and more like a porta-party.

As it stands, New Shapes of Life is a solid record that connects quite often on an emotional level, but is far too easy to tune out and shift to the background, something that can almost never be said about any of Carr's previous work.

Upon repeated plays, these lyrics fade, as does the monochromatic production, and what's left is a coming of age album anchored by some strong Swift songs, most of which are bunched at the end of the record.

Low in High School can seem as aurally conflicted as it is politically, and that may be an appropriate look for Morrissey in 2017: He's opted for a mad world of his own creation and doesn't much care whether his fans follow or not.

Over the course of the album, Sia tries to cover all the moods of the season: "Ho Ho Ho" gets into the Christmas spirit with gin, bourbon, and loopy cartoon sound effects; "Puppies Are Forever" could be from a children's holiday album; and "Sunshine" finds Sia helping a sad friend with heroic doses of Christmas cheer. However, some of the album's best moments tone down the merriment.

The tracks feel more like musical poems than songs. Poetic lyrics that refer to ogres, unicorns, and ghosts only reinforce this impression. Taken together, the album may challenge even some indie-tuned ears, but at its best, its catchy, composed strangeness is refreshing and compelling.

Ultimately, listeners who can embrace the idiosyncrasies of Rothman's voice and the throwback production (don't miss the Kristin Kontrol track, "Jordan," for that niche Casio-and-saxophone sound) will find an intriguing if hit-and-miss set of underlying songs with strokes of classic Brill Building and sophisti-pop.

Versatile certainly has its flaws and will likely appeal mostly to longtime fans, but Morrison invests himself in each tune, singing as if he wrote them. This is head and shoulders above similar efforts by his peers.

Ultimately, Tribute to 2 is uneven and fuzzy. When it works, it's lovely; when it doesn't, it's a head-scratcher. This is for fans only.

Provocative and muddled, Revival percolates with ambition but doesn't lack in laziness either.

The future will not be too kind if subsequent efforts continue to climb the stairway to heaven, but there are worse ways to get your Led out. Ramble on, gents.

Covered in a shiny electronic gloss, the album flits between slow-burners and mellow pop.

On Pressure, the solid if routine follow-up to Trap or Die 3, Jeezy doesn't deviate from his standard set of themes. He's still rhyming about his rise from the bottom, the product he's shifting, and all the disposable wealth and women that have come with it, all the while castigating would-be detractors and snitches.

Wood$ still writes primarily about his indulgences--liquor, weed, pills, women whose acquiescence evidently falls short of his standard--and occasionally shows some vulnerability.

Lost at Last, Vol. 1 is filled with loose ends and mess. ... Even if Langhorne Slim can't come up with the tunes to suit his sound, that sound is bewitching enough to make Lost at Last, Vol. 1 worth a listen.

Full Closure and No Details is messy and not entirely focused, but it possesses charm and character, and points to greater things ahead from Cohen.

While the bulk of Underworld is immediately enjoyable, there is a lot of material that is ultimately unmemorable, despite a handful of key tracks that serve to satiate until the next release.

A set that is less scattered stylistically--dominated by tropical house and trap stylings--yet less consistent quality-wise.

Die-hard fans may appreciate the musical switcheroos on The Worm's Heart, but others may not understand the need for them.

His gentle pleadings and luring lines evoke lightheadedness, and at times lack enunciation, like he was just wheeled out of oral surgery and had his water laced with an aphrodisiac.

With its mix of intriguing sounds and occasionally underwhelming songwriting, Always Ascending feels more like a first effort than the band's actual debut did. As it stands, it's a somewhat shaky but promising start for the revamped Franz Ferdinand.

Here Come the Runts doesn't shine or resonate like Awolnation's previous material, though it is quite clear that Aaron Bruno's songwriting abilities are understated. His penchant for effortlessly combining bright melody and harmony with gritty distortion and towering walls of sound never ceases to entertain.

These old-fashioned album rockers are so loud and awkward, they overshadow the excellent singer/songwriter album that lurks at the core of I Knew You When. Such imbalance makes I Knew You When a bit incoherent, yet in its quietest and angriest moments, it offers some of the best music Seger has made in the 21st century.

They sound like a band treading water, desperately looking for their place in the modern pop landscape and never deciding whether to go pop or stay totally weird. This indecision leaves them stuck in the middle of the road, which isn't a very interesting place to be.

Maturing past their screamo years was a necessary endeavor, but on Wait for Love, PBTT feel a bit stuck in phase two.

It's a bit of a shame that the record is so half-baked, but somewhat predictable as their creativity has been slowly waning with each new album.

The album's scope and ambition are admirable, but the group sound best when they're full of energy, and their slower, more reserved moments can be difficult to get excited over.