Beat Pyramid begins and ends in the middle of the same sentence, literally and figuratively, but it doesn't come across as contrived or insincere, thanks mostly to Barnett, who conveys his words in a manner that is simultaneously solemn and half-winking, as if he knows they could be totally wrong, but he's going to say them like they're all he's got left, anyway.

Midnight Boom is the Kills' most consistent, varied, and inventive album yet, and proof that passion and creativity trump cool any day.

On Trouble in Dreams, Bejar and Destroyer have also shown that they can continue to write the literate, complex songs they and their audience love and expand and explore new melodic territory successfully.

Bouncing from Mexico City to Prague to Milan to Denver over the course of ten songs, DeVotchKa's fourth full-length shows a band aging gracefully and eccentrically.

Here, he doesn't offer much more than a couple worthy singles and a handful of decent album cuts, and those highlights, such as the Timbaland-produced (and hogged) "Elevator," tend to be memorable more for the beats and the hooks than the rhymes.

Even though the formula is a winning one (and sounds pretty thrilling in small doses), by the end of the album you feel like you were listening to one really long song.

Neon Neon has created an album that isn't so much a straight-up replica of '80s excess as one that puts all of that indulgence into perspective, both emotionally and musically.

At times, The Odd Couple is a more beautiful record than its predecessor. But all too often Cee-Lo relies on the same sort of lyrical cipher as on St. Elsewhere, although none of them are as effective.

Deschanel's songs are simple and sad tales of heartbreak and missed connections, with hooky melodies and not a single artless moment to be found.

It's clear that Kath and Glass are already looking for more ways to expand on this familiar-sounding, edgy, innocent, menacing, bold, nuanced, and altogether striking debut.

Sixes & Sevens is a disjointed conglomeration of different ramblings that can't quite coalesce around any sort of idea.

Welcome to the Doll House is a paler, plainer recycling of their debut.

If you still hold Lanois' earlier recordings to a high ideal, this may indeed frustrate you because it offers considerably more evidence that Lanois has lost his way as a musician.

Visiter's experimental pop is so joyous and liberated-sounding that it's difficult not to get swept along in its wake.

A rare mix of intimacy and experimentalism, Too Old to Die Young will resonate with indie rock fans who know what that album title really means.

One of the better albums of 2008 without question.

It displays both crypticness and honesty, intellectualism and vulgarity in equal measure, challenging and placating its audience in the same drawn-out, undefined, nasally breath.

This is not a remarkable album by any stretch, although its packaging is--it contains a punch-out mobile as a booklet--but it is a further step in the development of a singular and ever elusive artist who possesses a truckload of talent, but is still unsure of which direction to head to realize it all.

While it's never clear how much Snoop actually wrote, the ghostwriters he's admitted to hiring have the thug script down and rarely disappoint. What is disappointing is the woefully long track list, the redundant numbers, and the trimming required to keep from drifting off before the majestic closer, 'Can't Say Goodbye' with the Gap Band's Charlie Wilson, rolls around.

The huge guest list is also a plus since Ross would have a hard time carrying this album on his own, but when surrounded by talent he pushes a little harder and comes up with a handful of rhymes that aren't tired or clichéd.

Not enough to raise him above "the guy who remixed Elvis" and no great disappointment either.

Eleventh Hour is certainly not a disappointment: Del's as good of a rapper as ever, and the way he fits his words into the beats, playing with his and their cadence, is truly spectacular, but he needs to challenge himself--and his listeners--more, lyrically and beat-wise, instead of relying on the same tried-and-true methods, if he really wants to continue his legacy.

This is sheer attack metal, played by a band that has run from simplicity to excess and incorporated them both into a record that is on a level with anything else they've done, even if not all the elements marry perfectly yet. Just get it.

As the group replaces departing guitarist (and founding member) Dave Dederer with Andrew McKeag, while they bring Seattle underground mainstay Kurt Bloch in as producer, all elements that help make These Are the Good Times People perhaps their most eclectic album to date.

Those who think the late 2000s are devoid of bands that know how to rock should devote three seconds to this album — they will instantly see the folly of their ways.

Unfairground is one of the great records to come out of Great Britain in 2007 and adds exponentially to the legacy and well-deserved reputation of one of the great songsmiths that rock sometimes doesn't know it produced.

Music is, by and large, entertainment and escapism, so regardless of whether Young Knives intend to add enlightenment to that formula, their hooks and their ideas--their entire musical package--are too intriguing and exciting to provoke the usual worries about agit-pop.

Go Away White sounds like the four were trying one last time to reclaim the idea of Bauhaus as band and ethos from all the many limiting clichés heaped on it, something which the album title, taken from the song "Black Stone Heart," slyly hints at.