Compared to Dekadrone, BN9Drone doesn't quite lift off, staying closer to the ground for its duration, and at 64 minutes (including a false ending), it simply goes on for roughly twice as long as it needs to. A shorter dose of it can be effective, however.

The songwriter goes on to defy social etiquette with more of her direct lyrics about sex, desire, and self-loathing on songs with titles sure to offend or at least embarrass a few parents. Ulven tests the line between potential catch phrases and potential cringes on more than a couple occasions here.

The set employs the unique, off-beat flow preferred by the Michigan underground, which Yachty adopts well enough on tracks like "Concrete Goonies" and "Final Form."

Taken together, The Power of Rocks is a pleasantly puckish jumble -- which in this case may well mean mission accomplished.

A solid collection, but the shadow cast over the project by DMX's death highlights some of the inconsistencies and adds a heaviness and sense of unfinishedness that's palpable throughout.

Levine and company aren't the focus here, they're the connective tissue on a softly amorphous album that sounds entirely like latter-day Maroon 5 without ever quite seeming to belong to them.

While Ty Dolla $ign's street gospel support on the title song is a fine match, H.E.R. more often is too accommodating, most so on the Lil Baby meeting "Find a Way," where she drops de rigueur references to her bag, haters, and one of rap's most popular luxury cars. On a more discreet level, however, "Bloody Waters" -- a heady Kaytranada production tricked out with a delectable Thundercat bassline -- is a brilliant sequel of sorts to her Academy Award-winning "Fight for You."

Baptize hits hard early on with a trio of nosebleed section-aimed sonic missiles: the pummeling title cut and its equally unrelenting successors "Save Us" and "Underrated." Therein lies the rub. What follows is no better or worse, just largely the same, with Saller delivering post-hardcore banalities with gusto and the band peppering those surface-level maxims with blazing riffage and fist-pumping gang vocals, ad nauseam.

At only 23 years old, she already has four albums to her credit and while her talent is obvious, a touch more vulnerability wouldn't hurt.

Preacher's Sigh & Potion sounds a bit jarring at first, but it makes more sense considering Dear's family background, and it does have a kind of rootsy, lived-in charm the more time one spends with it. Even if the songs don't always work, at least they feel like earnest personal expressions rather than forced, miscalculated "who is this even for?" hybrids.

Unlike their first two albums, which landed high on the breeziness scale, Mirror II is a tougher listen. It's clear that the band want to grow and expand their musical horizons but less clear that they are able to do that successfully. That being said, ultimately there is enough craft to the songwriting, energetic verve in the performances, and painful truth in the lyrics that the album is worth listening to, and the band is worth sticking with if only to see where they go from here.

Donda isn't without its highlights, but taken as a whole, it's both confused and confusing.

It's not a buried gem or a return to form but a snapshot of an excellent musician having a pretty good run in the studio.

While this is a loving tribute to Frank Navetta (who died in 2008), if you were hoping for more of the subtle but genuine forward growth the band has shown on later-day albums like Cool to Be You and Hypercaffium Spazzinate, what you get instead is a journey into the past, with all the good and bad that phrase implies.

Stylistically in line with The Baby, Scout serves as an understated addendum that packs a sentimental punch.

If you're riding and vibing with Lorde, this bright shapelessness is superb mood music. If you're not riding her wave, Solar Power can seem elusive, even cloying, as it circles and sways with a smile.

The follow-up delves into dysfunctional relationships, death, and despair with a more polished yet still hooky, jagged indie rock co-produced by De Souza and Brad Cook (Bon Iver, Waxahatchee).

As it stands now, the album is an overlong, undercooked, and cliched listen that will no doubt appeal to the Drake fans who can't get enough of him, but will leave anyone looking for something new sadly out of luck.

The energy throughout the album is so steady and positive that, even at a low volume, it can have a pacifying effect on the soul.

The Metallica Blacklist is fantastic for cherry-picking tracks from your favorite artists or listening in on the more outlandish interpretations of metal classics, but taken as a whole, it's daunting to the point of making even the highlights difficult to appreciate.

Like many artists who have stripped away the noise and rough edges from their sound, what's left over isn't as interesting as it could be, and it's hard not to imagine that the songs on Cool would be better off with a layer of liberally applied grungy fuzz coating them.

Keem is a necessary, forward-thinking presence in the rap zeitgeist -- but The Melodic Blue is a set of variables and experiments, not the game-changer he's capable of producing.

Both acts channel traditional folk music's power to express extreme desire, sorrow, and emptiness, occasionally driving the bitterness home by pushing the decibels into the red.

There are great moments here, particularly a spare, powerful reworking of Talking Heads' "Listening Wind," and the participants never sound less than sincere, but coming from a band whose heritage includes "Ghost Town," "Doesn't Make It Alright," and "It's Up To You," Protest Songs 1924-2012 never quite reaches its potential.

This isn't a record where the songs and arrangements are at the forefront, it's an album that's all about the show and spectacle. Its pleasures are slightly fleeting but they're pleasures all the same.

It's no masterpiece, but it's decidedly not the most cringeworthy Ministry release, either, and it's much easier to appreciate the band's creativity this time around.

At a scant four tracks, The Roadside EP hardly marks a major release from the veteran artist, but in lead single "Bitter Taste," he presents one of his better late-career offerings. ... The other two cuts, "Rita Hayworth" and "U Don't Have to Kiss Me Like That," are well-executed, if forgettable tracks that harken back to the singer's '80s heyday.

Throughout it all, Carlos Santana plays vibrant, vigorous guitar and he sounds as engaged playing with Corey Glover or Kirk Hammett as he does a posthumous Chick Corea. That these diverse strands don't quite get threaded together is OK: as a collection of moments, Blessings and Miracles does the job.