Finds Welch showing more warmth, ease, and openness as both singer and songwriter.

These bawdy Peter Pans of rock are more appealing when they summon their innate raunchy power, instead of coming off like a 2003 version of the Beach Boys with the sand washed off.

Lyrically autobiographical, songs deal with Gahan's trouble with relationships and intoxicants and, though they lack Gore's sense of drama and perversity, they do have a maudlin charm.

By mixing sweet with sour, E's warm and fuzzy mope rock sounds great whether it's blasting out of a convertible on a sunny day or playing in the background on a rainy night.

Mellencamp's rawest album to date.

Zep faithful will welcome the belated release as evidence for enduring loyalty, but younger fans may find its diversity and dynamics even more enlightening.

An impressive, mature effort that expands a predictable Brit-pop sound into something with varied textures, shades and nuance.

An adventurous meeting place between the Smiths' guitar-driven anthems, the Zombies' vocally intricate garage-pop, and melt-in-your-mouth '70s Quaalude rock.

Electric Six is the most exciting band to come tumbling out of Detroit since Kiss.

As with the band's other releases, the music inspires clear feelings of love and hate.

To his credit, Jenkins is much more interesting a songwriter when he's wounded, offering candor that's not evident on TEB's first two discs.

Another set of sad but very fun songs.

Slideling is McCulloch's best solo offering by a distance.

Fortunately, this spare approach serves Thompson well because he's such a strong and varied songwriter plus a remarkably distinctive guitarist.

While Albarn still has an ear for a melody, without Coxon's guitars to subvert them, most of these songs sound like the work of a new band.

The problem lies in Gore's lack of emotional and musical range.

The limitations of Lanois’s vocals lend an engaging frailty, leavened with bleak, lonely, instrumental interludes.

Another accomplished collection that adds richer arrangements and instrumentation to Cary's mix of rock, folk, and country tunes.

Fans of their live performances will appreciate its wall-to-wall rhythmic thrust and quirky textures, while aficionados and newcomers alike should welcome its surprising, seductive melodies and mature songwriting.

Rootsy and undeniable, The Intercontinentals is yet another Frisellian work of genius.

Despite Clarkson's sublime vocal talents, excessive gloss at times overwhelms the quirky charm and personality she displayed on Idol.

A diverse and engaging work.

Always clever, sometimes hysterical, and sometimes cloying, Lynch is a way hipper Weird Al for the post-millennium MTV generation.

Even with its share of jangle-pop gems, the disc also offers a few bland strummers that never quite take off.

Mixes arena rock in the vein of an Alice in Chains with the aggression of Pantera.

There's more Patti Smith in her than there is Patsy Cline.

If you like the Strokes, you should be spending this week’s CD allowance on Elefant’s first full-length recording.

In a sea of pretenders, the Kills are capable of providing some genuine competition for the White Stripes.

As much an album for slam-dancing nights out at Goth haunts as it is music for the psychiatrist’s couch.

Top to bottom, this may be Chesnutt's best effort since his 1996 disc About to Choke.

The album is a showcase for Cash's trenchant, soul-baring songs about love and mortality.

For the most part though, One Step Forward is more self assured and richly textured, nicely refining a winning formula that will no doubt enchant the many fans of its predecessor.

[A] provocative, if slightly uneven, album full of quirky lyrics and some irresistible melodies.

A truly remarkable progression, and a great album to boot--Antenna is the work of a band that's constantly moving forward.

There's not a weak moment on this dark-horse gem of a disc.

Dust is an atmospheric tour de force that doesn't just come from left field, it breaks through the outfield wall.

Sprawling, funny, angry, compelling, and entirely unafraid.

Here he shows more quirky imagination and inventive musicianship than on any of his earlier efforts.

If it's an album that also argues that the band is working from formula, it's one they'd be wise to patent.

Longtime fans might take it like a kick to the head, but this band is clearly moving toward bigger things.

Hersh has also masterfully tamed her potent vocal quirks here, using them to tease one moment and hypnotize the next.

Disciplined, varied, and often mind-blowing playing.

If play-it-to-the-back-rows, unabashed power-pop is what the Ataris were after here, they've delivered it with nigh perfection.

The F.A.B.O.’s smooth, deadpan flow cruises over benignly commercial beats, and the overall effect isn’t hard enough to stand up to "official" street-issue hip-hop.

Few bands... make slowing down sound this risky.

While Dar Williams's artistic trademarks--lyrical introspection, melodic warmth, an occasional tendency toward breathy vocal preciousness--remain much in evidence on this collection, the expanded musical support adds more rhythmic propulsion and layers of harmonies to the mix.

Bright Yellow, Bright Orange is further proof that the second half of the Go-Betweens’ career is one well worth following.

This album solidifies their standing as one of the most endearingly idiosyncratic bands on the American scene.

In a world gone mad, it's nice to know that some things--like Ministry's ability to tear up the floorboards with crushing efficiency--never change.

Even the contemporary numbers sound like classics.

Amidst all the fun is a dynamic record that holds your attention.

Nocturama feel[s] messy, unpredictable, and even a little dangerous--qualities Cave's music hasn't had in far too long.

Sure, Get Rich could never have lived up to the hype, it’s nowhere near Biggie's Ready to Die or Nas's Illmatic, but there's no fast-forward material here, a near miracle in these times.

While Corgan's tendency toward self-indulgence results in the tedious 14-minute "Jesus, I/Mary Star of the Sea," it is just a minor lapse considering the rest of the big, glamorous rock on display here.

Brilliantly melds the aural imagery of Andrew Hill's '60s Blue Note classic Judgment! with contemporary electronica effects.

A masterly exercise in restraint, subtle sophistication, and melodic playfulness.

An inspired and diverse 15-song opus.

While some might be disappointed after spending God knows what on a copy of Twoism only to find it suddenly available anywhere, others looking for more of BoC's melancholy, spellbinding compositions should take fast advantage.

Like its predecessor, Genesis, this album is sonically superior to most in the marketplace.

One of his best-balanced albums in years.

The album sags in spots, and McGraw and his coproducers misstep in adding faux R&B vocal washes here and there. But this is a good, solid effort to make music and not just the radio charts.

Compared to ambitious contemporaneous concept albums by peers such as Common and the Roots, Quality feels unexpectedly conventional--a strong collection of songs in need of a unifying force.

Seldom do you get to see an artist exorcise her pain in public with such poise and fearlessness.

The album serves as both an ambitious travelogue and as a graceful rejoinder to the bitterness and frustration that inspired it, with Amos wading through swells of sadness ("I Can't See New York"), anger ("Don't Make Me Come to Vegas"), and insecurity ("Your Cloud") with velvety grace.

Depending on your partiality for mid-’70s macramé culture, this is either a gift from the gods or the worst thing that could possibly happen to pop culture since bellbottoms made a comeback.

Her readings of the Hank Williams classic, "Cold Cold Heart" and Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness of You" alone are worth the price of the CD.