Though most of his career highlights also appear here, a parade of Paul Van Dyk productions is not what most listeners need to stave off boredom; his productions all work from a similar framework, and work best in the context of a broader mix set.

Get Rich isn't quite the masterpiece 50 seems capable of, impressive or not. But until he drops that truly jaw-dropping album -- which you know he will -- this will certainly do.

The real problem is that Lupine Howl doesn't really do enough here to distinguish itself from other bands, drawing from such obvious influences as the Rolling Stones and the Doors, and in a lot of ways the album sounds like a tour of '90s retro-influenced bands like the Charlatans, Oasis, or even the Black Crowes.

The group's finest creation yet.

Layer after layer of preconceived notions and excess noise are stripped away to unveil both soft-spoken charm and intense newfound confidence.

The album's laid-back, off-the-cuff experiments are just enjoyable instead of brilliant, but they nevertheless display the undeniable creative chemistry that the trio shares.

Televise is an impressive and adventurous -- if occasionally mopey -- collection of songs.

More often than not, they connect with the material in unexpected ways.... Problems occur when they can't find a convincing way to graft their highly identifiable sound onto the song.

[Corgan's] joyful spirit surges throughout Mary Star of the Sea, even during its many intricate instrumental sections, and it's hard not to get swept up in the momentum, especially since it's married to his best set of songs since Siamese Dream.

The good stuff is strong enough that anyone who cares about Lou Reed's body of work, or Edgar Allan Poe's literary legacy, ought to give it a careful listen.

Oldham concentrates on crafting unremittingly introspective and confessional material in a spare, old-timey format. As sometimes happens on the recordings of his kindred spirit Cat Power, such unstinting uniformity can be a curse as well as a blessing.

Their familiarity with vintage instruments and addictive laid-back swagger help them avoid the pretension that sometimes follows the Beta Band.

An impressive look at Malin's musical maturation.

Sometimes it sounds like Ennio Morricone, sometimes the Penguin Café Orchestra. Mostly it sounds like its own thing.

Selling Live Water follows the Anticon party line (double-timed, singsongy half-sensical ramblings countering slow, lumbering beats) through to conscious hip-hop's most logical dead end.

Shipp, whose restless vision is never clouded by grandiosity or pretense, has become the most important pianist on the scene today. Equilibrium is soul music for the mind.

[Kyle] Fischer is normally a quite capable guitarist whose antics and energy have been noticed for some time by fans at live shows. However, it seems here that his guitar work is merely meant to tread water, biding time for some big explosion that never seems to come.

Red Devil Dawn is a welcome masterpiece of emotional subtleties -- the great record that Crooked Fingers missed the mark on with 2001's drunken, bluesy and somewhat disappointing Bring On the Snakes.

Too often, Airs Above Your Station feels scattered and fades into the background too easily.

A delicate, contemplative union of indie rock, country, and electronica.

Where The Great Eastern was a fairly gentle and tentative record in a lot of ways, this one is bigger and demands your attention. The good news is that it's one of those rare records that actually deserves all of the attention it demands.

While the accompaniment is always thoughtful and inventive, Prekop's vocal idiosyncrasies tend to be a double-edged sword, delightful on the good songs but only accentuating the dreariness of failed experiments like "Le Baron" or "Try Nothing."

Lovebox takes them much too far down the path of production gloss, right on into the field of bland MOR electronica.

Mt. Eerie is a truly stunning album, managing to be deeply beautiful and unnerving, as well as deeply thoughtful, without ever seeming pretentious or heavy-handed.

Best of all, it all feels effortless, from the production to the songwriting.

God's Son isn't quite the masterpiece is could be -- mostly because Nas is so self-involved, sometimes seemingly intoxicated by his kingliness -- but it's surely one of the most remarkable albums of the Queensbridge rapper's highlight-filled career, just a notch or so below Illmatic and Stillmatic.

Electric Circus does suffer from that which ails many contemporary hip-hop albums -- too many guests and a generally lengthy program drag this one down a tad. Nonetheless, Electric Circus is a brave and ruthless statement wrapped in sincerity.

It would be a good standard-issue Whitney album if it wasn't for her disarming, defensive attempt to defuse every rumor hurled in her direction.