You Can Feel Me is a genuinely funky, finely produced album that often bypasses white b-boy cheekiness.

Justified is just sound and posturing, with no core.

It's hard not to wish that the album had a bit more of the quirks and muscle that gave Breach its backbone. Without it, Red Letter Days isn't quite as forceful, but it is accomplished, melodic, and attractive.

The band is making the finest music in the history of its collective.

The fact that the emotional extremes are few and far between makes the album difficult to wade through -- its impact would've been tripled with about half an hour lopped off, but where to begin?

A truly twisted masterpiece that offers new rewards with each new listen.

Perhaps the strangest twist about this record is how much of it sounds more crude and antiquated than the duo's first two albums, which were released over 20 years prior to this one.

Sure, there's a couple of tracks that fall flat - Young Zee and Obie Trice feel strained - but it all flows well, and it's all strong.

This time the group finds a better balance of the simple and the strange, making Loud Like Nature their most exciting album since Avant Hard.

It marks a return to the sound and feel of Under the Pink and is her best album since then.

It's the sound of an artist who's given too much freedom too early and has no idea what to do with it.

Each song is tailored to the strengths of the lead singer, not the strengths of Santana, whose left with piddly, forgettable instrumental interludes and playing endless lines beneath the vocal melodies.

The whole thing sounds good on paper, but in practice, it's a bit of a mixed bag.

It's an old-fashioned record, feeling as if it was nearly 30 years old, even when it's informed by relatively recent funk, rock and jam bands.

It's hard not to wish that the songs stuck in your head the way they used to, even if it's still enjoyable as a whole.

The perpetually teenaged foursome still have their raw edges and sharp teeth, it's just that the edges rip deeper and the teeth bite harder with this more efficient and well-crafted rock assault.

As you might expect, the overall quality of the songs isn't quite up to the standard of the best Death Cab for Cutie albums, but it comes close enough to entertain fans who aren't die-hard completists.

Though club-phobic listeners may find it difficult placing Skinner as just the latest dot along a line connecting quintessentially British musicians/humorists/social critics Nöel Coward, the Kinks, Ian Dury, the Jam, the Specials, and Happy Mondays, Original Pirate Material is a rare garage album: that is, one with a shelf life beyond six months.

The focus on a single mood occasionally threatens to lead only to a creative dead-end, but Out from Out Where arguably betters its successors by coming together as a single work.

Many of the songs have a similar feel and lack distinctive melodies to keep them from blending together.

Rarely, if ever, have synths sounded so truly urbane, and the cumulative effect is postmodernist pop music that sounds simultaneously cutting edge, retro, and utterly timeless.

Picking up the ball right about where Air dropped it after Moon Safari, Röyksopp produced one of the most intriguing downbeat albums of the year.

From the first few minutes of RUOK?, it's clear he's begun another shift, from the dense sampladelic dance of Actual Sounds + Voices to a sparse, haunted style that leaves much to the imagination but still displays acres of production prowess.

More fully realized and bolstered with a stronger song selection than its predecessor, Wallpaper for the Soul is a well-crafted collection of infectious tunes that won't necessarily stick with you for years to come, but should be quite enjoyable while you're listening.

The result throughout Velocity of Sound is an impression of the Apples in Stereo as introductory ironists, non-threatening to kids and parents, accessible and enjoyable to all.

The concept is brilliant and musically the Black Heart Procession have never sounded better.

Throughout Sean-Nos Nua the production treats O'Connor's voice like a canvas on which to paint vivid images. At times the result is distracting, with far too much slapback, but it also scores on songs like "Molly Malone," where vocal and instrumental textures together trace the tale through poignant light and ominous shadow.

A delightful but slightly faceless blend of lounge pop, subtle beats, found sound and mellow jazz influences.