Here Comes Science is another fun, educational triumph.

Deeply atmospheric even for a Kranky release, As Good as Gone's subtlety is its strength, and shows how Foote, Dickow, Owens, and company bring out the best in each other.

He's mastered the craft of writing tight and focused rock songs that transcend their beginnings but make no concessions to current sonic fashions.

Doubt can be crippling, but it also serves a positive purpose here, as Bazan has rarely sounded so convincing in his vocal delivery or songwriting.

Hooks never mattered to the Used anyway, so having a higher grade of execution helps underscore the Used's point, which ironically just makes the whole thing uglier and harder to take.

No longer young upstarts, they wear their years proudly on this terrific album, sounding like the veteran roadhounds they've always aspired to be.

When the Devil's Loose might share some reference points with another singer/songwriter with a similar offhand affection for roots music, but A.A. Bondy seems to be developing a voice of his own despite all the surface similarities, and the result is a quietly powerful album of songs that cut deeper into the heart and soul than you might expect at first glance.

Like most odds and ends collections, The Fine Print is uneven and doesn't match the consistent quality of the Drive-By Truckers' usual work, but nearly all of these tracks are too genuinely good to have been left to gather dust, and even the DBTs' scraps can make for a pretty satisfying meal.

Even if it's not the most persuasive mood album, once the party has kicked into high gear Rebelution will certainly keep it going.

Ride Again isn't a raucous rock & roll album, it's a relaxed good time, a little bit of cheerful nostalgia that's pretty charming.

Juliette Lewis dials down the aggression, amps up the introspection, and adds a dose of weirdness on her third album, Terra Incognita. As always, what Lewis wants to achieve is apparent and admirable, but not necessarily quite what is achieved.

This is as entertaining and frivolous as a one-night stand should be.

What she undoubtedly is, is a pro--she sells these subdued glitzy productions, she makes boring songs interesting, she remains a forceful, tangible presence.

Cyrus has always sounded older than her years, and as she leaves her teens, that's a good thing--especially since The Time of Our Lives shows her music is catching up to her pipes.

Since so much of Humbug is about its process, it's not always immediately accessible or pleasurable to an outside listener, nor is it quite the thickly colored freakout Homme's presence suggests.

Ellipse is some of her most wide-ranging work, physically and musically speaking.

The resultant sound is smooth, classy, and subtle--a sonic horse of a different color from the exquisitely ramshackle earthiness that made "Stardust" so appealing and unusual.

Even if everything seems built for the 12" format and then landed on an album anyway, Guetta's fans get all the well-done house music they desire, and then some.

Despite its ominous (and lofty) title, No More Stories/Are Told Today/I'm Sorry/They Washed Away/No More Stories/The World Is Grey/I'm Tired/Let's Wash Away is a dreamy blend of circular melodies and odd time signatures that requires multiple listens (this is par for the course with any Mew album) and a significant amount of cinematic stamina from the listener, and though it may not appeal to the masses, its mass is definitely appealing.

For the most part, He Was King emphasizes pop accessibility--and it often does so with catchy, likable results.

Add Kahne's instantly accessible production and Light is not only a welcome surprise, but an album that matches his debut.

Shaka Rock squanders the promise Jet showed on their previous work, and even if they soldier on and release another ten albums, this feels like the end of the road for them.

It's a creation that's slicker and sleeker than the debut, but fortunately, it's not quite at the expense of Caillat's simple charms.

In the meantime, this may be a holding pattern, but it's one worth holding on to. Diminishing results are, after all, still results.

These clean, open arrangements tend to make the songs seem catchier than they actually are--the hooks don't grab, they repeat like softened incantations that never quite catch hold--but that does give No Baggage an nice, gentle shimmer that's appealing.

While the six tracks that follow don't wallow in the same waters of failed redemption as the title track, they do cling to Furr's folksier moments, resulting in a solid addendum for those who prefer Blitzen Trapper's Bob Dylan meets the Grateful Dead fetish over their visceral, vaguely psychedelic Southern indie rock jams.

Ingram's latest doesn't fit the definition of a work by an artist, because this set isn't original in any way. It seems that he can not only live with this compromise, but he freely chose it, and celebrates it here.