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.