Barely enough for five years of waiting and hardly up to the old standard.

Not bad for a placeholder EP.

An overdone, unamusingly ironic '80s fetish dominates the first half of the album, dragging down tracks like "Molecules" and "Different Kind of Love" with slick synths and affected singing.

Everything is predictable and sounds like something Cave has done before. The Bad Seeds' edges are smoothed over by the too-slick production; Cave's lyrics are not provocative or funny or much of anything worth hearing.

This is a lot closer to the type of compilation you'd get with an issue of CMJ than something special.

She winds up with a processed, affected record halfway between Live Through This and Pat Benatar or possibly Billy Squier.

Lovebox takes them much too far down the path of production gloss, right on into the field of bland MOR electronica.

Strangely lovable and lovably strange, sort of like a lo-fi version of the Flaming Lips.

MDFMK charts the same breakbeat industrial-thrash that has long been a staple of any KMFDM album, complete with ranting vocals, aggressive songwriting, heavy-metal chords that sound vaguely familiar, and solid programming that reveals a surprising pop sense.

As you might expect, the overall quality of the songs isn't quite up to the standard of the best Death Cab for Cutie albums, but it comes close enough to entertain fans who aren't die-hard completists.

The Handler shows that Har Mar Superstar can also give new meaning to the term "trying too hard."

The songs lack hooks, as if melody would be too commercial, while the production has its sights on the radio, resulting in tuneless songs that are polished for mainstream consumption.

The tempos drag, the lyrics are nothing special, the electronics nothing much to care about. Instead of sounding like the teenage spawn of My Bloody Valentine and Mouse on Mars, now they sound like Radiohead's very earnest cousin.

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.

The album winds up sounding too reserved and heavy-handed, which makes it a disappointment not only compared to what the group has done before, but also to what the girls have achieved outside the group.

The productions are much better than the songs.

The problem is that the album is perhaps too subtle for its own good, and even after repeated listens, it fails to connect on any meaningful level

Though most of his career highlights also appear here, a parade of Paul Van Dyk productions is not what most listeners need to stave off boredom; his productions all work from a similar framework, and work best in the context of a broader mix set.

The Mark, Tom and Travis Show is indeed a real rock show and catches Blink 182's shameless personalities and childlike giggling about oral sex, dog semen, and masturbation.

[It is] over-produced to within an inch of its artistic life, and lacks the quality songs and exquisite productions that the group had made a hallmark.

These brittle, next-wave-of-new-wave productions plow no new ground and barely serve the lyrics to which they're chained.

This sounds like a lost Coral album down to every last detail, which means that it seems silly to venture here unless you've at least bought one Coral album already.

It's evident the Waxwings wanted a heavier, darker sound this time out, and even though several tracks are embellished with cello, violin, and horns, most of Shadows fails due to a murky, muddled production and mix, not to mention an uninspired track sequencing.

Envision a penny dreadful being sung aloud inside a pub while Roni Size tries to squeeze drunken gospeltronica out of his sequencer banks.

Many of these samples have been heard before, and the influences (ranging from easy listening to soundtracks to hip-hop) aren't very original either.

Besides the limitless charisma that seeps out of Mystikal's loud, rude rapping-meets-shouting-style of vocal delivery, the album also benefits from the production and songwriting variety that No Limit was never able to accomplish...

Except for these stylistic detours (two tracks from Blade Runner, with one each from Dead Can Dance and the group's vocalist Lisa Gerrard), Another World is the same old trance album. There are a few intriguing anthems that manage to wear out their welcome over the course of seven minutes and up, plenty of breakdowns to maintain attention on the dancefloor, and an overall pleasant sound that simply floats by without making much of a positive impact.

The Secret Migration is oddly too conventional and too quirky; it's another paradox that this album, which in its own way is Mercury Rev's happiest album, is also, sadly, the weakest of their career.