On Women's Rights they also show they can crank out some lean, tuneful punk rock, and this album is a smart, unpretentious good time on any number of levels.

Grieves has stretched the possibilities of Rhymesayers-type rap with Winter & the Wolves, so kick the mopes to the curb with this one, since it understands and overcomes with extra helpings of clever and cool.

Winner Stays On will undoubtedly continue their stratospheric rise from the ghetto to the mainstream, but despite flashes of ingenuity, it's a strangely formulaic and over-familiar listen.

Despite all the electronics, there's no mistaking The Path of Totality as a Korn album...and one of their better ones to boot.

In both vocal cadence and lyrical content, NF falls somewhere between Eminem and Twenty One Pilots' Tyler Joseph, while channeling the former's rage and the latter's emotive introspection. As such, The Search is a heavy and emotionally exhausting listen, brimming with troubling allusions to suicide and soul-baring pain.

There is some good material here and they've certainly taken their reunion record somewhere unexpected, but as a whole, Citizens is a bit of an inconsistent mess.

Classic embryonic vocalic beauty from Geike Arnaert still carries the translucence of the band's signature ethereality, and shines as hard as she did on the band's previous releases. However, musical composition on songs such as "Pink Fluffy Dinosaurs" and "Frosted Flake Wood" are more intricate and sonically defined.

If the music on Schizophrenic was as awkward as Chavez's singing and stance, it'd be an easy album to dismiss, but what makes it so frustrating is that he has a lot of good music on the album.

When it works, this can be pretty invigorating, but when it doesn't, it's utterly maddening.

All in all it's a very enjoyable album, if at times a rather strange one.

Perhaps Carrabba still writes lyrics in broad terms, but this willingness to sculpt his sounds on the softer side indicates that he's discovered a way to sustain this allegedly adolescent music well into his adulthood.

Ziggy Marley, the LP, shares much in common with Robert Palmer's Pride, Black Uhuru's Chill Out, and even Gregory Isaacs' Night Nurse, as its diminutive, deft, funky, tight, electro-tinged, and sincere. With all these ingredients at just the volume, it's still one single or classic short of being the best-of Ziggy, but the cool temperament and empowering mood of the album offer a life-affirming soul massage through music.

Wikked Lil' Grrrls occasionally gets lost between songwriting, thematics, and stylistic flow.

All this means is that Chickenfoot's big picture is roughly in place but the pieces don't quite fit, but that doesn't stop the group from trying to force it, with Sammy sounding as awkward singing about south-of-the-border drug runners as Satriani does spinning off complicated riffs on party rockers.

Spiral Stairs remains a pleasing, if not especially exciting, singer/songwriter and Real Feel showcases both of these sides effectively, rambling on nicely as it strolls through its songs, but never quite getting into any interesting territory.

As the album unfolds, certain themes of regret, sadness, and longing run to the surface, but they're all coated in glittering pop melodies and big rock riffs that mask the emotions of the songs.... their best, most consistent effort to date...

Consolidates the strengths and weaknesses of the American Movie one disc.

The punk-inspired spark that made their 1997 debut, Word Gets Around, so impressive is rekindled.

Shedding much of the Spoon influence of Crystal Skulls, Poor Moon follow the same rustic backwoods folk path as Fleet Foxes.

Without many radio-worthy cuts and both Shawty Redd and Drumma Boy going through their B-list of beats, Ferrari Boyz isn't impactful enough to make it past the already converted, but that "street release" tag should have already given that up.

The highlights, unsurprisingly, occur when Allen is allowed to exert more of his power, heard in the darting/jabbing third and twisting sixth tracks. Those two tracks are worth the wait.

Universal Pulse can be wearying even at its half-hour length.

So, a mixed bag: good enough to satisfy and also to wish the whole thing was slightly better.

What saves it from being nothing but thirtysomething wish fulfillment is that this move toward goth-glam requires 30 Seconds to emphasize hooks and gives them aural variety, which doesn’t make them seem any more serious but does make them considerably more palatable.

If the tech-savvy "By(e) Now" feels like a leftover from the more experimental debut, Statistics sophomore full-length has enough real songs to qualify it as an anomaly.

Despite its faults, it is one of the most unique albums released by a major label in 2008.

Is the World Strange or Am I? is indeed a little too strange to achieve the commercial success Jarvis has admitted he craves, but it's an admirably bold statement of intent which is perhaps unlike anything else you'll hear all year.

Working against the big intentions are the ramshackle playing; the rough production and mixes, and, inevitably, Arcuragi's rusty, overwrought tenor upfront.