At 77 minutes and 23 tracks, the sprawling album is weighed down by some filler and redundant numbers, but as a step forward for a party band riding on whatever the Dirty South sound of the moment is, it's surprisingly bold and accomplished.

Wikked Lil' Grrrls occasionally gets lost between songwriting, thematics, and stylistic flow.

We Are Little Barrie is a stunning debut for sure, and the kind of record both old-school classic rock dads and groove-loving young kids should be clambering over each other to buy.

It's nice to have the Posies back in the studio again, but Every Kind of Light isn't the triumphant return fans might have hoped for.

There's nothing new or surprising here, but it's a completely satisfying listen thanks to the strong material, sustained mood, and Strait's unhurried, confident performance.

Humming by the Flowered Vine is an album that's a joy to listen to without sounding simple or hollow, and resonates with an evocative beauty comprised of both compassion and intellect.

Musically, it's closest to Adore, yet it's a distant cousin: if that album hinted at '80s synth rock and goth, this re-creates the spirit and sound of 1986, right down to the robotic pulse of the rhythms, the cold, slick surface of the production, and the brooding, self-absorbed atmosphere.

Derivative as it may be, it's done so well that it's awfully hard to bash.

All in all it's as essential a piece of O'Connor's history as anything in her catalog.

Cole's voice is sweet and ringing, like a wiser version of Lil' Mo who has had to weather a tremendous amount of drama.

The whole package ends up having this strangely alluring glimmer. It's like discovering California Babylon after being lost in suburbia.

While Hiatt sounds soulful as all get out (as per usual) on this set, the lingering mood is often downbeat and introspective.

Chavez Ravine is easily the most ambitious thing in Cooder's catalog, and it just may be the grand opus of his career.

The overall tone of the album, and the fact that they have made two records in a row like it, might be enough to chase away many of the band's original fans for good, but those who stick around will be treated to an album of fine, fizzy adult punk-pop with a mean streak and a broken heart.

If lightweight, it is often pleasant and amusing, if not utterly engaging.

By stretching out, the Foo Fighters not only have expanded their sound, but they've found the core of why their music works, so they now have better songs and deliver them more effectively.

Between the perfect production and the genius batch of songs, [it] makes a case for the Pernice Brothers as the best pop band on the planet.

This is inspired stuff from a rebel who still has plenty to offer.

Never Gone [is] a solid adult contemporary album, which will please both BSB diehards and the dwindling ranks who wish that the glory days of Jon Secada never ended, but its relative strength does highlight one problem with the album: this kind of music doesn't sound quite as convincing when delivered by a group of guys as it does by one singer.

The Oranges Band doesn't rewrite the indie rock handbook; more like they follow it in note-perfect style and form and in such a familiar way (Spoon, New Pornographers, Guided by Voices, Yo La Tengo, new wave influence, etc.) that your initial inclination might be to dismiss them as generic wannabes. Stick around though and you just might be won over.

As cunning as it is, Anniemal is also deeply affecting.

But for as impeccable as X&Y is -- and, make no mistake, it's a good record, crisp, professional, and assured, a sonically satisfying sequel to A Rush of Blood to the Head -- it does reveal that Martin's solipsism is a dead-end, diminishing the stature of the band.

What the group made sound effortless in the past sounds strained and canned here.

While nobody could accuse Teenage Fanclub of taking huge creative risks, more often than not the tracks on Man-Made do resemble something along the lines of '70s soft rock group America backed by Stereolab -- which is a very cool thing.

Get Behind Me Satan may confuse and even push away some White Stripes fans, but the more the band pushes itself, the better.

Visuals are such a crucial aspect of their performances that the set will naturally fall short of making you feel as if you are there.

Given the strength of this album, it's hard to wait for the second part to arrive.

The arrangements are much tighter than ever and cover up whatever lyrical deficiencies the charismatic, freewheeling attitude of the band doesn't.