Whether she's writing original material or covering traditional tunes... the effect is the same. It's intimate, like a secret told readily.

The only complaint with the album is that all the angst and gloom can get pretty heavy at times, but if you are in the right mood, Last Secrets can play like the soundtrack to a broken dream.

Even if it's not as cohesive as their two previous albums, it's some of their best (and certainly most ambitious) work.

The bare-bone production combined with the relentless march of songs gives Stadium Arcadium the undeniable feel of wading through the demos for a promising project instead of a sprawling statement of purpose; there's not enough purpose here for it to be a statement.

Unlike such deservedly praised comeback albums from some of his peers -- such as Dylan's Love and Theft, the Rolling Stones' A Bigger Bang, Paul McCartney's Chaos and Creation in the Backyard -- Simon doesn't achieve his comeback by reconnecting with the sound and spirit of his classic work; he has achieved it by being as restless and ambitious as he was at his popular and creative peak, which makes Surprise all the more remarkable.

Snow Patrol's hungry rock sound only gets bigger and better this time around.

Without Feathers may lack its predecessor's apocalyptic vision, but it's a new direction for a group that was heading down an awfully familiar -- and extremely congested -- road.

The musical portion of her songs... takes a distant second place to her lyrics. Which is fine, because her words are so engaging, but it wouldn't hurt her to experiment a little more with chord progressions or keys.

Ignore the clunky lyrics... and Gulag Orkestar is an infinitely more appealing album.

It should not take the seasoned listener too long to grasp that Serena Maneesh transcend the narrow boundaries of shoegaze.

His previous album's excellence made it seem like Daedelus was working at his peak but amazingly he not only equals that album but surpasses it, creating his most satisfying album since his debut.

Simpatico... is the Charlatans' version of the Stones' Emotional Rescue: it's a groove-centric rock album, heavy on disco and reggae rhythms, where the overall vibe is more important than the individual songs.

In the 21st century, this is what singer/songwriter albums are supposed to sound like. The Boxing Mirror is brilliant, and it is his masterpiece.

How We Operate is strong, focused, and a complete pleasure to engage; its maturity and confidence is beyond anything they've released thus far, and the experimentalism brought into play on their other albums is here.

As a writer she's never been stronger.

The flashes of brilliance that were once routinely delivered by Havoc and Prodigy are few and fleeting here.

Pearl Jam hasn't sounded as alive or engaging as they do here since at least Vitalogy, if not longer.

It's not only a step forward for the band, but a re-embracing of the epic-length rock songs found at the roots of early heavy metal.

At times, Wolfmother's unintentionally bizarre amalgams are kind of delightful, and the group does have a basic, brutal sonic force that is pretty appealing, but even at their best, they never banish the specters of the bands that they desperately mimic.

Shut Up I Am Dreaming is pure bedroom art-pop with a thin Britpop glaze that is as poignant and self-effacing as it is self conscious and pretentious.

Thursday simply sound like a superior version of themselves.

A deeply thoughtful and obviously personal album.

Equally thoughtful and energetic, Capture/Release shows that the Rakes have a smart, sharp voice that ultimately sets them apart from the rest of their scene.

Secret Machines now sound uncannily like a fusion of U2 and INXS.

Most listeners won't care to follow this particular rabbit down the hole because of the bracing cynicism, paranoia, misanthropy, and betrayal they'll hear at every turn on this record.

Not only does We Shall Overcome feel different than Bruce's work; it also feels different than Seeger's music.... It's a rambunctious, freewheeling, positively joyous record unlike any other in Springsteen's admittedly rich catalog.

The album's press sheet draws comparisons to Prince's Dirty Mind and Too Short, and while that's not inaccurate, the references could just as easily be Digital Underground, Paris, Above the Law, E-40, late-'70s Parliament/Funkadelic, any previous Coup album, or just about any other funk-steeped rap album that has come from the West Coast.

Unlike its predecessor, there isn't much to dig into here; what you hear upon that first listen is exactly what you get.