The Incredible Machine is a collection of (mostly) competent if unremarkable songs, held together by slick -- often sterile -- production.

Eskmo is clearly a major talent, and if his muse takes him in odd and inscrutable directions, it's almost always worthwhile to follow and listen.

Tt's refreshing to hear him so candid, even if that forthrightness is festooned by enough bells and whistles to wake the dead.

This is too short and scattered to put on his top shelf, but it comes awfully close, which is downright astonishing considering the circumstances.

Swanlights, the fourth full-length by Antony and the Johnsons, reveals that 2009's The Crying Light was a stepping stone that furthered his sophistication as a songwriter, arranger, and singer.

Every song on Charleston has been ironed flat, so there are no unseemly natural inflections, something that Rucker doesn't need but which helps make Charleston, SC 1966 a gleaming example of polished, pressed, modern country-pop.

On Post Electric Blues, they're a worldly pop/rock band, showing off their Scottish roots on the Celtic numbers and channeling the American heartland.

Ultimately, the EP is fast and fun, but its songs are so fleeting that even if the concept is a cool idea, the end result is too disjointed to be anything more than a one-listen novelty.

The only hint of intrigue comes 40-odd minutes into the record, when Youth takes up his mighty bass for "Chicago Dub," which briefly changes the pace for the better.

Though It's What I'm Thinking, Pt. 1 finds Badly Drawn Boy still getting back on his feet, it has enough encouraging moments for fans to stick around until he hits his full stride.

Recitation is one of those records that cannot be rushed, but instead must be experienced on its own terms, and anyone who's able to relinquish control and let Envy steer for a while will be rewarded.

Saying The Grand Theatre, Vol. 1 is a return to form unnecessarily belittles the last few Old 97's albums that came before it, but calling it their best album since Fight Songs is just about right.

Whoever they are, $o$ is utterly unique and downright dazzling if you dream of a Grand Guignol hosted by P. Diddy.

The guitar riffs are appropriately fuzzy but a tad messy; the harmonies are well-placed but imperfect. Stoltz is a vintage enthusiast, but he's no copycat, and To Dreamers' best quality is his ability to reinterpret those sounds for an audience weaned on lo-fi albums.

Musical breaks like these not only make For We Are Many a fresh listening experience, but they also prove that the band isn't restricted to a formulaic good cop/bad cop style of metalcore songwriting, allowing the band to engage listeners who are looking for more than the same old thing.

Ultimately, Mixed Race, with its simmering tension, is a worthy follow-up to Knowle West Boy, and a fine entry in Tricky's catalog overall.

As sonically pleasing as it is, Tiger Suit isn't a mere vehicle for sound; it's built upon Tunstall's strongest set of songs yet, and it's no coincidence that they're her most ambitious, either: she may be firmly within the mainstream but she's taking risks as a composer and record-maker, never settling into the role of the earnest earthbound folkie, winding up with an excellent album that satisfies as pure sound and as songwriting sustenance.

It's definitely a change from Clinic's brash art-punk and wicked folk, but it's one the band had to make to keep their music vital. Fortunately, Bubblegum's sound is so inviting that it sticks.

This is a middle-of-the-road pop album pure and simple, arriving perhaps two years too late but it nevertheless proves that Archuleta has the chops to fill the space between commercials on the airwaves.

A study in how to be settled without settling, this album is a very welcome return.

It's a lean, tight record that takes its time but doesn't dawdle, it has the easy confidence of a pro who knows that he's working at the top of his game.

If you are looking for big-hearted, easy-to-swallow guitar pop, you could do much worse than Guster. In fact, you'd be hard-pressed to do much better.

As it is, Doo-Wops & Hooligans is an uneven debut that shows why Mars is likeable and popular, but doesn't tap into his full potential as a writer or producer.

Each of the the album's ten tracks is naked, open, and bleeding, yet rousing at the same time. The lyrics don't hide behind Stern's infectious, blast-and-burn 21st century rock; they are buoyed by them.

Sinners & Saints is the most confident, self-assured, and consistent recording Malo's done, and it showcases his own playing and songwriting at an entirely new level of skill.

The mellow vibes are appealing in their own lackadaisical way, but as the short LP approaches its conclusion it's hard not to wish there was just a little more discipline, perhaps enough to sculpt these pleasant sounds into full songs.

This may not satisfy a casual fan who wants to hear versions played on the radio, but the entirety of Telephantasm winds up being something better than a hits collection: it captures the essence of the band, why they were important and why they still sound powerful some twenty years later.

Musically, Kasher is all over the place, laying down enough staccato horn sections, sweeping strings, and quirky time signatures to give Sufjan Stevens a run for his money. What the Game of Monogamy occasionally lacks in hooks, it more than makes up for in style.