On this album, GB make the Dead Kennedys seem subtle. And it would be nice if there were more variety to their sound.

The Con skillfully packs its instant hooks in so tight, virtually every line becomes the one you want to sing along to--and the twins' lyrics aren't your typical pop pabulum.

Hitchcock has made a return to garage rock not heard since 1989's Queen Elvis.

Strange, alluring, and disarming.

Lush, impossibly mature.

A perfect gift for the Christmas-inclined indie rockster.

Unglamorous clearly shows that the 36-year-old has graduated.

Fans of Norah Jones should gobble up this album, but Peyroux is no mere imitator: She's her own, very real thing.

Rather than getting bogged down in concert-album fashion, Okonokos plays spanking new, almost re-studio recorded.

Sweaty, head-spinningly good dance music.

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.

Arrangements begin with folk-friendly guitar, mandolin, and violin, only to rise into soundscapes worthy of Lambchop, if not Tricky.

The singer's whiskey-stained voice infuses those words with a fierce mix of pride, hurt, resignation, sadness, strength, and humility--traits that make her one of the finest R&B singers of her generation. There are other riveting moments rivaling that from this deeply moving set.

These 50 minutes of music are as cohesive as they are conquering.

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

An album that's smart at every level.

Twice is a sweet, mercurial foray into lip-quivering American indie-rock infused with the blissful aroma of Creation-style ambience and the woody scent of paisley-clad cosmic country.

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.

This is music you listen to when drugs don't work anymore.

Fabulous.

Scott weaves through the music like a woman who's taken her time contemplating what feelings ought to sound like.

Another set of sad but very fun songs.

Shakira's bleating, biting voice is in fine form, and it gives the material an electric urgency.

100 Days, 100 Nights makes for a very welcome addition to any avid listener's contemporary soul music library.

A little more subdued than the songs on its firecracker debut, Make Out?, yes, but hardly lacking brains or bite.

By marrying ambitious rhymes to a series of increasingly hot beats, Nappy Roots have effectively avoided the sophomore jinx.

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.

You're presently reading about what may be the best album of 2007, hands down, by the most under-accorded American musical genius.