A few strong moments don't make a full release succeed.

A loud and obnoxious ruckus.

A strangely attractive racket.

Bangarang is a disappointingly formulaic affair which hints for the first time that the wheels may soon slowly begin to fall off.

There is a chasm that separates "Video Games" from the other material and performances on the album, which aims for exactly the same target--sultry, sexy, wasted--but with none of the same lyrical grace, emotional power, or sympathetic productions.

If Ringo 2012 is slighter than the lighter-than-air 2010 Y Not, it still has enough good cheer to bring a smile to longtime Beatles lovers.

Despite a scattering of fantastic material, overall this collection is unworthy of the Sparrow's mighty legacy.

Sounds from Nowheresville shows that the Ting Tings have more range than their debut suggested, but while it's more ambitious and crafted, it's just not as coherent as We Started Nothing.

The Brit Award winners have suddenly gone all serious, eschewing their trademark singalong choruses and reining in the quirkiness that briefly made them one of Britain's biggest guitar bands, in favor of a more downbeat and slightly psychedelic sound that may be less annoyingly infectious but is also ultimately less fun.

Rhyton stumble through their jams oblivious and dopey, failing to fully connect with each other or take the listener to a place more exciting than a spirited jam session in the practice space.

There's a comforting softness to the album (only occasionally broken by a stray emotion in Eric Emm's vocals or a danceable tempo) that makes it perfect background music for working away in a cubicle or relaxing after a long day.

Mies and Mullen have successfully mined this kind of temporal, freak-folk territory before, but Out of It and Into It feels more like a step backwards than a cerebral expansion.

Sharks have built up a reputation as one of the U.K.'s most vibrant young live acts, but the disappointingly flat No Gods suggests that something must have gone missing on their way to the studio.

The sheer density of the tunes becomes an issue right away.

Even with this change of tone, the album is still classic Shinedown, and though this kind of triumphant mood will probably disappoint fans looking for something to cut loose and pump their fists to.

An EP might have worked, but apparently Grinderman had to milk it for all it was worth.

Midtempo tracks like "Only if for a Night," "No Light, No Light," and "What the Water Gave Me," the latter of which finds Welch in full control of the room by the song's second half, are soulful, spooky, and bold.

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

There's nothing preventing them from indulging in the silliest rhymes, baffling name-drops, nagging hooks, and earworm melodies.

The resulting Curve more or less lives up to its ballpark idiom, and while it may not signal a complete reinvention, it definitely distances itself from the calculated guitar-driven alt-rock that dominated 2009's Burn Burn.

Too bad it all falls apart so drastically when you factor in Cosentino's disastrous lyrics.

[The last] three songs better illustrate what Kwes. is capable of as a producer and musician, falling somewhere between Thundercat and James Blake, in a cool blend of downtempo, dubstep, and R&B.

While the album has its share of pretty melodies and even some gently beautiful moments, it's mostly a string of unremarkable songs built on platitudes, searching for reason and resolution but ultimately coming up empty-handed.

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

Turner possesses some mighty charm but it's not enough to turn that one into something listenable and he stumbles into a couple other potholes here too, all created by the desire to turn him into a big cutesy teddy bear.

Landline is cloying, full of soon-to-be-dated production tricks, drab, mediocre songs.

Most of the time, Jackson's new arrangements of Ellington's compositions don't serve the songs so much as they betray the arrogance of a musician who wants to show us how he can bring this music into the present day while ignoring many of the qualities that made it timeless.

Days Go By is more for fans who have been with the band for a while than those just tuning in, and while die-hard Offspring followers will be able to see the shift in the band's sound as part of a logical progression, new listeners would be better served by checking out some of their earlier, more urgent work.