Bejar's warm, odd voice does not jibe well with the voice of the former Toronto Children's Choir singer.

This album is bursting with quality. [Amazon UK]

Ripe rides a similar vibe to 2005's "Awake Is the New Sleep": quick-and-dirty pop melodies polished with chiming guitars, piano fills, and Lee's exuberant, boyish vocals.

The disco-rock jitters come back soon enough with the next selection, 'Let Me In,' but there's no denying that the group's horizons have broadened. For every throwback Cure sound-alike, such as 'Give Up?,' there's a lush retort featuring the Abbey Road Orchestra-like 'Outta Heart.'

For fans of Silver Side Up, Nickelback have delivered the goods once more.

One of 2003's best releases.

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

Overall, ADD demonstrates why Lewis blazed his way into AI's final round: He's out there, sure, but he's willing to reel it in enough to keep it real for the masses.

Duff edges ever closer to adult sensibilities; her goofball Lizzie McGuire days seem far behind.

While McGraw may not be the greatest of warblers, nobody in country can touch him at conveying emotions too deep to express in words.

Not as promising as 1999’s Lipstick Gamemight have indicated, but an aggressive, hard-rock effort nonetheless.

The contributions of that tag-team of hitmakers take nothing away from the tightness and characteristic chic of the band--that they enhance the hypnotic sheen of Duran Duran, rather than subjugate it--makes a certain sense.

Out of Nothing is a truly exceptional album.

T.I. is at the top of his game, though, and he makes it heard.

The Art of Love and War, on the re-launched Stax label, is as full-bodied an affair as this old-school-leaning, incessantly self-exploring diva has delivered.

Songs like "Baby Come On" and the spooky "Little Death" show the musicians finally delivering the substance that was promised on Blink 182's self-titled 2003 release.

Flitting between fraught ballads and up-tempo adult pop (the misguided sample-laden singles "Freeek!" and "Shoot the Dog" being the unnecessary exceptions), George here returns to the structure and mood of 1990s Listen Without Prejudice, Vol. 1. [Amazon UK]

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.

Songs About Girls is, for sure, a big, noisy record. But in addition to the kind of hugeness, it's sometimes hard to get your head around.

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.

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

The album isn't without its problems––come the halfway mark ("Sons of Plunder") vocalist David Draiman and his mates lapse into the expected, with a series of songs that are good but rarely as remarkable as those found in Act I.

Overall, Corgan's captivating effort to mine both the spirit of these turbulent times and the soul of his defining band is a smashing success.

The songs on his debut album, Charmed and Strange are quirky and inventive.

The drifting chords and soft voice are still in place, only now Johnson's instinct for melody has sharpened alongside his ability to self-edit.

It's All In Your Head reveals the band that is very much on top of things.

Fortunately, producer Steve Lillywhite is on hand to clean things up, giving even the most bumbling lyrical experiments, such as "Wordplay" and "Geek in the Pink," at least the illusion of a newfound maturity.

Despite his dirty mind, Chasez has proven to be an adventurous auteur, taking his music to places where NSNYC would never venture.

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

The best evidence arrives two tracks in: though 'Bring It On' features the soothing sitar of Anishka Shankar, it bashes its way through the speakers as though fueled by kryptonite. It is bad-ass, in a word. And so is this album.

What's changed is that maturity has granted Jewel, now in her early 30s, greater perspective.

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

No less than a half-dozen songs have hit potential.

Seal never goes all out in any direction and this coolness, combined with Trevor Horn’s perfectionist production, plants the album inescapably in the realm of adult contemporary (although this is as good as adult contemporary gets).

There are moments of light and hope on At the End of Paths Taken, but overall it is a deliriously dark and brooding album.

Like every Backstreet record before it, Unbreakable boasts Super Glue-strength harmonies and an overall tightness of sound--the boys may be practitioners of the kind of pop that music snobs love to skewer, but that doesn't mean they're not exceptionally good at it, or that there's not a lot here worth whistling to.

Garcia and company wear their '80s influences proudly throughout, yet bring enough fresh ideas to the mix to avoid being mere slaves to precious retro-fashion.

Sport[s] a trace more big league sparkle, but with the frayed cleverness and rock-solid musicianship that their fans know best.

Amarantine sounds like it was born in cloistered solitude, self-referentially echoing Enya albums past.

For all its cathartic lyrics, I-Empire is actually packed with dazzling, fast-moving songs, like 'Everything's Magic' and 'Sirens,' that bring together U2's widescreen guitar flights with tuneful, straightforward punk melodies.

Shock Value is a far-reaching and ambitious disc; a masterpiece, even, in its own way.

Phair doesn't need her angry-girl persona to prove she has talent, but she may still need it to stand out from the crowd.

The result is an energetic paean to the Cars' power-pop heritage, capturing the band's classic feel-good vibe with all cynical subtexts intact.

If you're over 21, file souljaboytellem.com under guilty pleasures. If you're younger, let it rip without reservation.

All of it works, and works wondrously.

Here's a set that suggests rock has got its head screwed on straight again, that the path to real feelings need not necessarily be led by Norah Jones.

As far as standard Celine fare goes, in fact, Chances is likely her strongest non-French outing since 2002's "A New Day Has Come;" nobody unfolds a lyric with more care or nuance.

More a pop orchestral mishmash than a well-defined rock opus, Bat III is dark, seemingly hopeless at times, and über dramatic. Oddly enough, that's also its saving grace.

Brave may not be the most groundbreaking record ever to climb the pop charts, but it's enough to convince you JLo's discs don't stint on substance.

Unpredictable actually gets rather predictable over the course of 15 songs, too many of which begin to meld into one another.

A solid, if not wholly overwhelming album.

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

It plays like a hilarious concept album more than anything.

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.

Simple Plan's plan--to get you bouncing, bobbing, and otherwise grooving--is still simple. And like all uncomplicated strategies, it's still remarkably effective.

If there's one thing the R&B phenomenon demonstrates on Grown & Sexy, is that growing up is sexy.

Fans of albums such as 2001’s From Chaos and 2003’s promising Evolver will likely find Tread familiar and perhaps even comforting, but it’s unlikely to invite a new horde of fans as the album often sounds like an imitation of the bands 311 helped inspire in its decade-plus career.

Has she grown up? Maybe not entirely yet, but Lohan is showing the promise of an honorable mainstream career.

Viscerally contemporary, Necessary Evil harnesses youthful exuberance from across the charts, and Harry and her team of producers and songwriting partners do radio-ready rock, pop, and soul-lite with à la mode savvy to spare.

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

An album that should appeal to fans of Weller and the original legends alike.

The acoustic guitars have largely been set aside on Chapter V, leaving Staind to pummel away at its troubles and hoping that people still have time to listen to self-pitying grown men moan about their dysfunctional childhoods.

A denim-clad, riff-heavy beast of a rock album. [Amazon UK]

Committed Ja Rule fans looking for those signature hip-pop collaborations he's taken to the bank before won’t find them here.

Their multiple piercings, shaved heads, and abundant tattoos have them labeled a punk band, but on [Revival], Good Charlotte... fall much more under the umbrella of 1970s arena rock and mainstream ballads.

An inspired and diverse 15-song opus.