The Silver Cord was released in two different editions; one with the songs edited to around four minutes each, one where the songs stretch out over the ten minute mark. The extended versions don't add much to the overall effect of the album, merely giving the listener more time to wonder why the band chose to go down this route.

Blockbusta is not without its instances of fun and excitement, but for the most part, Busta Rhymes sounds like he's reaching for something different on almost every track and not quite grabbing ahold of any of it.

Kanye has shown the world his unfiltered megalomania, heartbreak, self-obsession, self-contempt, and confusion, and even at its most ghastly, it's always been at least a little bit exciting or provocative. On Vultures 1, he struggles to show much of anything, crafting songs that are loud and shiny, but still largely blank.

Jim White is undoubtedly a masterful musician, but All Hits: Memories never quite gets off the ground, and it feels like the type of record that might be of interest to fellow drummers but will have limited appeal for anyone else.

The bulk of Gunna's boastful wordplay is less inspired than normal, though that shortcoming is mitigated by a handful of bravely reflective and revealing deep cuts.

Sounds pleasant enough, but Greene's songs and production are so placid and unbothered by anything remotely emotional that it's hard to imagine the album causing any kind of reaction.

Sadly, Flight b741 is the first record they've made where it might make more sense to avoid the journey and stick to revisiting some of their glorious excursions of the past instead.

The finished product is so muddled in many of its would-be fleeting spaces as to elicit the phrase: Just because you can doesn't necessarily mean you should.

They’ve never been the most consistent band, making mistakes and careening down the wrong road in pursuit of transcendence – something they have managed to achieve a few magical times -- but they’ve never sounded this irrelevant or out of touch before.

For the most part, however, Bouquet is a hollow shell of the artistry that Stefani once displayed at every turn. As basic, personality-free country-rock records go, Bouquet is perfectly serviceable.

Animal Collective completists will be able to zero in on what makes Geologist’s language of samples and deconstructed loops unique, but to the untrained ear, it might register mostly as broken music begging to be pieced back together.

$ome $exy $ongs 4 U is business as usual for Drake (mostly in R&B mode this time) and PartyNextDoor. In Drake's case, he tries to sound romantic but comes off as bitter and jealous, PartyNextDoor merely seems like a supportive friend who doesn't want to cause any more trouble.

Too much of this record sounds like it could have been made by almost anyone and that's not good, and neither in the end is SABLE, fABLE.

Whether, taken together, the take-me-or-leave-me Bloodless is ultimately appropriately chaotic and admirably confrontational or, rather, overcooked is up to the beholder, but Samia's knack for strong melodic hooks and open vulnerability here are unquestionable and consistent.

All told, Precipice is enjoyably hooky, but taking the edge off of her sound and, ultimately, songs doesn't do their emotional weight any favors, even if -- or rather because -- it makes them go down easier.

While there are some faint echoes of that personality and complexity on UY SCUTI, the essence of what made him so special is largely lost in a clutter of disconnected or only partially realized ideas.

The release is a set of moody trap numbers with sharp beats and stark lyrics about hustling and street life. He also spends time roasting online haters and addressing Internet drama.

Morrissey’s singular personality is on full display, and just as uncompromising as ever, but sitting through an entire album of his musings and moanings circa 2026 is less than fun.

It's overstuffed and bland at once, with some legitimately great production spoiled by vacant lyricism and lack of personality.

It's hard to decide what to make of Musick, a genuinely baffling release that offers some interesting social commentary, but also isn't quite as fun to listen to as it wants to be.

If you look beyond everything that's downright embarrassing about this album -- the reliance on interpolations rather than original songwriting, the amateur-at-best rapping, the generic beats -- you'll notice a few minor improvements.

Betke wisely abandons a sound that had been developed to its full extent, yet the outcome is a set of hip-hop/dub hybrids that stumble out of the speakers with a fatigued skank.

Lupine Howl does give the band more freedom than they previously had, as they embrace electronic effects, synthesizers, neo-psychedelic guitar riffs, and Cook's trademark harmonica. It doesn't always result in quality songwriting, however, and that will make it more laborious to avoid the "ex-members" tag.

Live versions of "Hush," "Part of Me," "Push It," and "Third Eye" reaffirm the band's standing as one of alternative metal's most compelling live acts; unreleased studio tracks such as "Message to Harry Manback II" and "L.A. Municipal Court" definitely sound like abandoned material, but offer a look at Tool's quirkier side.

A less than engrossing record from Piano Magic was bound to happen at some point, but few could have predicted something as dull, drab, and ultimately powerless as Songs From the Chronic Fatigue Ward -- er, Writers Without Homes.

Transmission, while marginally stronger than the band's debut, forgets to bring along the same natural pop drive and offers more of the same well-honed faux iconic babble, and regularly stoops to the equivalent of a Love record with improper squelch control.

Instead of sounding like a refreshing change of pace, it's a muddled, aimless affair from an artist that's had too many middling efforts over the last decade.

Perhaps the strangest twist about this record is how much of it sounds more crude and antiquated than the duo's first two albums, which were released over 20 years prior to this one.