Jessica's team haven't had a knack for picking the right song but she could possibly clear that hurdle if she showed some sign of life as a vocalist, but she's unfailingly listless no matter how many theatrical gestures she attempts to cram in her big boring ballads.

On Idol, McPhee always favored middle of the road over modern, and Unbroken returns her to that course, bringing her somewhere within the vicinity of Paula Cole (who co-writes the title track), Rachael Yamagata (who co-writes “Keep Drivin’”) and Mandy Moore’s stylized ‘70s throwback, flavored with the slightest traces of modern sounds, including a vague borrowing of Beyoncé phrasing.

While not everything works on Let the People Speak, it has enough originality and energy that it bodes well for wherever Clark and Black want to go next.

While the band's sound here leans toward the more grungy end of hardcore, P.O.D. have always evinced a knack for hooky pop songwriting, and the best tracks here are the more melodic, pop-oriented ones.

This isn't really a Cinematic Orchestra album--it's a compilation of pieces ("songs" would not be the right word) by Grey Reverend, Dorian Concept, and Tom Chant, and Austin Peralta, plus three tracks by The Cinematic Orchestra.

He's got talent to spare, but at this point he's swimming in an idyllic creek, not a raging river, and no amount of howling will banish demons that have yet to be summoned.

The whole affair is ultimately an exercise in late-'90s indie rock ephemera, and like countless other acts before them, Drowners seem poised to fade away before they burn out.

Cute he may be, but he has charisma that lasts no longer than a GIF, as Handwritten makes painfully clear.

It's definitely the warmest-sounding Corrs outing to date, and the austere studio setup lends itself to the band's penchant for pairing pop acumen with Irish balladry, which they do with great aplomb on heartfelt cuts like "Son of Solomon," "Dear Life," and "Live Before I Die."

Can't Say I Ain't Country is a successful blend of the cosmopolitan and country, sounding as assured on soulful slow jams and percolating crossover pop as it does on the breakneck twang of "Y'all Boys," a duet with their protégé HARDY.

Without fleeting moments of bad taste, Perry does indeed sound mature, but she's also not quite as fun. That's a conscious choice, though. Smile is intended to evoke memories of her frivolous younger days while pointing toward a sustainable pop future.

A mellow blend of low-key, late-night, left-field pop and yearning R&B, the release boasts a number of intriguing high-profile collaborator.

It does feel like a b-sides, here's-what's-left collection at times, for better or worse. However, for fans clamoring for more of anything from Berryman, Buckland, Champion, and Martin, this'll do the trick.

The genre-blending charm and sweetness that made Brushfire Fairytales and On and On so nice doesn't change that much, but does it really have to change?

Scab Dates is yet another intriguing window into the Mars Volta's world, instead of just a live album holdover.

These are slick but straightforward productions that mix a deft synth and drum program studio vibe with a warm, overall earthy vibe.

Coziness certainly has its appeal--it works as balm and a tonic--but it's hard to shake the feeling that Zac Brown Band overplays their hand somewhat by insisting they've reconnected with their roots. All those lyrics feel calculated and defensive, undercutting the grace of the music.

Wwhile it's hard to argue that Evolution lives up to its moniker, the familiarity of the architecture is lent considerable gravitas by the overall execution, which as per usual, leaves nothing but perspiration in its wake.

A game of "name that influence" runs rampant from the album's start to its closing seconds.

If Torches scratched the surface of twenty-something angst, then Supermodel takes that exploration a few steps deeper, revealing a more introspective, enigmatic, world-weary tone.

It's not perfect, and it's often affected, but it winds up being endearing because of her earnestness.

Altogether is perhaps the lightest and most pop-oriented release in the band's canon, doubling down on bright guitar tones and jazzy chord voicings, and relying even more heavily on lush synth parts to augment their sound. While its feather-soft tone flirts with the smooth banality of easy listening, parts of the album are far more clever and well-structured than first impressions might suggest.

It's a macho, muscular attack that fits the braggadocio of the title yet it's hard not to shake that this alt-metal grind feels like a forewarning of a Y2K annihilation, not something suited for a decade into the new millennium.

All in all, Mass Gothic have made an album of serviceable, if not shinning, indie pop. That said, it is a step forward from their debut and an overall solid effort from which it's possible to glean some truly compelling moments.

It's an entertaining, vibrant, and artistically filling album, so consider it a "presents" effort and enjoy the show.

For now, as long as she makes records as good and as much fun as When the Sun Goes Down, everything will be fine.

Snow Patrol still have the potential to hit the sweet spot between U2's stadium baiting, Coldplay's icy elegance, and Elbow's art school-infused, north country soul.

Aside from the occasional flourish of their post-punk gothic past, most of the record is the dirtiest and heaviest hard rock they've recorded since the '80s.