The six-song Heretofore breaks down fairly neatly into a clutch of songs where the more unsettled side of the band's work exists as shading to fairly formal compositions and one big song where that overtly exploratory side is front and center.

This a major step forward and for the adventurous hip-hop fan, it could very well be appropriately titled.

Gonzales isn't an innovative dance producer, and there's not much pop music in play here either, making Ivory Tower a rather run-of-the-mill soundtrack--one of the many that can't be separated from their films.

Each EP has a handful of standout songs--the melodic thrust of "Make for This City" on Morning, the escalating drama of "Porcupine" on Night--but what lingers is James' controlled mastery of mood, how the band never pushes too hard yet never settles over the course of this quietly satisfying set.

Bachmann's contributions play a back-seat role to those by Taylor and Fink, who sound as convincing after a seven-year break as they did during Azure Ray's heyday.

Pop Negro is just as impressive as the debut was. It's just that the indie landscape has shifted so much over that time span that someone blending all sorts of African, Latin, dance, and pop elements and influences into a whirling, glittery disco ball of sound isn't exactly enough to stop the presses.

The result is part retro, part avant-garde, and part polyrhythmic elevator music, which is to say it sounds wholly Dungen.

The 16 songs sequentially chronicle an astronaut's journey from liftoff to landing, and Minowa seems as on top of his game as ever as he deals out uplifting lines like "All our anxieties are in a box I mailed to Pluto" over imaginative soundscapes.

Anyone who bought the limited edition of MM..Food? has the video proof, as much of this album is an audio rip of that package's bonus DVD. Redundancy aside, this is a fantastic show fans won't mind revisiting.

This is one heavy, messy, dynamite album--one that could take a decade to be fully processed.

The album's back half doesn't boast an outlandish moment like "I Invented Sex," either, but it is the strongest, most varied side of a Trey Songz album, just about flawless. It smoothly shifts through several moods.

Ultimately, Mirror is another Lloyd triumph. It may not shake the rafters with its kinetics, but it does dazzle with the utterly symbiotic interplay between leader and sidemen.

The coolest thing about this mess of orgiastic sound is that it's totally possible to envision it being played live; it feels present, inside your skin, under your muscles, and inside your veins. Shadow Temple is physical music that evokes the spirit world; it rocks, but it soars too; creating a soundtrack for some kind of apocalypse.

Two thirds of the way through the Body Talk project, it's clear that this experiment is reaping rich rewards for Robyn and her listeners.

Ultimately, Interpol isn't a statement of purpose as much as it is the end of an era for the band: With Dengler gone and back on their original label, they have the ability, and perhaps necessity, to go in any direction they choose.

Though they should've rocked out a couple times for some variation, Personal Life is a good example of a band growing up without growing old.

Despite lushly detailed arrangements, Bareilles never pushes this distinctly commercial gift too hard, letting the songs flow easily and this gentleness is almost as appealing as those classically constructed melodies, tunes so softly insistent they could conceivably appear on adult contemporary charts anytime from 1971 to 2010.

The tempos on Reckless are more varied than those on their self-titled debut, but even the slower tracks pack the big emotional punch that bluegrass fans love, the kind of feeling that used to make country music dangerous.

With each track designed as a showcase for the featured guest, Mean Old Man winds up playing a little like a collection of moments but it's hard to complain when the moments prove that you can still be vigorous and vital at the age of 74.

Most of the album stays sludgy though, and Seeing Eye Dog tends to drag more than it hits.

While they might miss some of the drive that the band brought to the table in their earlier work, the depth of slower and more spacious songs like "Take Me (As You Found Me)" should ultimately prove more rewarding in the long run.

As an experimental piece of electronic music, Old Punch Card is an engaging and soothing album that will reward the open-minded and baffle anyone who expected the album to carry on in vein of his previous, more Sea and Cake-like efforts.

If Everything Under the Sun often seems a bit candy coated, it's a high grade of confectionary that they serve, and most folks who get a taste of this album are likely to come back for more.

It's always great to see a band that's able to tweak its sound without watering it down, and that's exactly what Stone Sour have accomplished here, showing that it's possible for hard rock bands to make their sound bigger without necessarily making it blunter.

Fin Eaves' mix doesn't have anything in it you haven't heard before, but you've never heard the elements put together like this before, either. It's a powerful, massively textured thing whose heavily treated grooves (yes, grooves) are drenched in ambiguous, deeply poetic beauty.

Our Cubehouse Still Rocks has no shortage of guitar firepower, and with tough six-string snarl dominating much of the album, these 16 songs have more than enough rock & roll muscle to give shape and power to Pollard's pop-flavored melodies.

What really sets Disturbed apart from other 21st century metal acts is their ability to consistently re-package and resell their sound in a way that avoids redundancy.

Its casualness sometimes surfaces in its tossed-off jokes or sing-song melodies, but that only underscores that Jenny & Johnny are having a good time -- and it's a good time that's easy to share even if one of the hosts doesn't quite hold up his own end of the bargain.