Though Speedy J does pure techno as good as he did his earlier experimental productions, it's a shame he's gotten back to the kind of tracks that DJ Hyperactive could be knocking out in his sleep.

The Eminem Show is essentially a holding pattern, but it's a glorious one -- one that proves Eminem is the gold standard in pop music in 2002, delivering stylish, catchy, dense, funny, political music that rarely panders.

Cuts into raw indie rock with spells of country and folk, while allowing Brock to explore a varying scope of sounds.

A lounge lizard's idea of heaven.

Some listeners might suggest that an album this varied has an identity crisis, but with standout tracks as glorious as the Dylan covers and the Eno closer, Frantic is a fascinating addition to Bryan Ferry's accomplished discography.

It blends the stripped-down sounds of Pod and the Amps' Pacer into a collection of strangely intimate, feminine garage rock.

It's beautiful, weird, and difficult to love.

Heather Nova has ventured out on South, delving into the pop side for her own inventions. Fans who aren't accepting of such a move might be critical; new listeners might find South her easiest album.

He has created a record that might not be as wildly eclectic on the surface as Play, and it certainly lacks club-hits on the level of "Bodyrock" or "South Side," but it's a warm, enveloping, humanistic record with real emotional resonance, which surely is a noteworthy artistic step forward.

Just below the surface, all the quintessential Get up Kids qualities are there: melody, intelligence, and lyrical sincerity.

Vapor Trails does an amiable job of signaling the welcomed return of Rush.

So, it's essentially a harder-rocking version of the last album. But you know what? It doesn't matter because the band is at a peak.

One can't help but feel that this is still a transitional album in general, but at least they've overcome their Garbage fascination and seem to be delivering music more in tune with their attitude and style.

For the most part My Ride's Here is a misfire from an artist capable of much better work.

This balance of elements, along with Elf Power's ragged but insistent groove, make Creatures a study of harmonious contradiction and unlikely balance.

While the appealing rawness of their early material is occasionally missed here, the strides forward that the group makes on this album more than make up for it.

The melodies on Alice are easily the most direct Waits has written since Blue Valentine, but are more elegant than even those found on Foreign Affairs or Black Rider.

Thematically, this work -- with its references to German cabarets and nostalgia -- echoes Waits' other Wilson collaborative project, Black Rider. Musically, however, Blood Money is a far more elegant, stylish, and nuanced work than the earlier recording.

An overdone, unamusingly ironic '80s fetish dominates the first half of the album, dragging down tracks like "Molecules" and "Different Kind of Love" with slick synths and affected singing.

Transmission, while marginally stronger than the band's debut, forgets to bring along the same natural pop drive and offers more of the same well-honed faux iconic babble, and regularly stoops to the equivalent of a Love record with improper squelch control.

Plenty of fuzzed, struttin', propulsive guitar work on this disc to assault your ears.

While the artifact quality and live vibe of this music come as no surprise, the show band emphasis of Trey Anastasio suggests that this artist may be placing a little less faith in the voodoo of improvisation and more in the payoff guaranteed by musicians who can tear up the same charts night after night.

Dust is a stunning look into his exotic, sharp imagination and a vibrant effort for those who've watched him evolve.

In Our Gun has all the elements that made their debut so great, and then some.

It's difficult to imagine how Badly Drawn Boy could've improved on The Hour of Bewilderbeast any better than this astonishing work.

Outside of the Bacharach album, it's his best in a long time. But in order to know that, you will have to have dilligently listened to everything from Spike on -- and if you got off the bus around then, it's harder than ever to get back on.

As the program continues, it becomes clear that he has reinvented most of the tracks in pretty much the same way, and the limits of his low-key, almost whispery vocals can grow tiring.

Romantica charges out of the gate with a new vigor, brightness, and sensitivity that, in retrospect, hasn't really come together within one package for them since maybe Bewitched.