Everything connects emotionally and musically in front of an enthusiastic crowd on one of the year's best and most vibrant live albums.

There is something here for almost everyone making this a unique if inconsistently satisfying glance into the mind of one of pop's most fascinating and under-appreciated artists.

When the Rumour, so polite in their accompaniment, step forward on the break to provide spare but involving keyboard and guitar, you know this reunion was worth waiting for.

Once you accept that Lana knows exactly what she's doing--that she, not Interscope Records or any of her co-producers, is the architect behind this R-rated retro-pop fantasy--then maybe you'll start loving her, too.

Short but potent and powerful set.

The energy level Soundgarden maintains is certainly admirable for a band whose members are all hovering around 50 years old, but this fairly narrow focus on capital-R Rock songs and little of anything else results in a homogeneity that keeps it from offering the level of depth or surprises that the band's previous albums held.

While the album is too long by at least four songs (Johnson has never been the best editor of his own material), he and his crew do well by Cochran.

Keith's plenty good enough and smart enough to do a lot more than ably cover the bases on his annual albums whenever he wants to.

There is snap and crackle in Low Cut Connie's pop and a gutsy edge that'll have you turning up the volume regardless of where you're at.

This pleasant set of smooth honky tonk finds a sweet, somewhat slick path and never wavers as it coasts through eleven slices of radio ready country.

[Landing on a Hundred Years is] a much leaner, concise collection of rich and soulful tunes that takes in the last 50 years of funk, soul and R&B, and catalyzes that history into something warm and vibrant, yet altogether fresh.

Bird is too much of a seasoned professional to release anything less than listenable, so although none of this is particularly compelling, it's all well performed in a relatively stripped down, acoustic setting.

The problem with Psychedelic Pill, and it's a substantial one, is that, besides that inspired ending, the instrumental passages don't distinguish themselves as being all that memorable.

If you're at a different stage of life than she is, it can be exhausting trying to keep up with the succession of emotions to which she deftly gives voice, but also downright exhilarating.

With the exception of the occasional detour into heartbreak ("I Don't Do Lonely Well") or empathy ("Black Tears"), it can feel like he's doing the same stylized smalltown-conjuring over and over, to the point of hollowness.

Smith's candor in this collection of hard-won songs is admirable.

Not only have Two Gallants returned refreshed and revitalized, but they push the boundaries on their groove, marrying subtle shadings and pounding intensity into a terrific set that will excite existing followers and should find plenty of new ones.

As is, our appetite has only been whetted and not satiated.

Some of his best observations get lost in the full-throttle approach of songs like "Ecce Homo" and "Still Life With A Hot Deuce And Silver Platter." It isn't until the album's second half that pace slows, some open spaces appear in the music, and Stickles' rants come into clearer focus.

The brass-orchestral ups and downs make Transcendental Youth an easier trajectory of peaks and valleys than the flatter, subtler All Eternals Deck.

If Traveler seems too random and scattered for its own good, it's never less than interesting.

Sunken Condos is a smooth collection that insinuates deeper feelings through the head-bobbing rhythms and offbeat humor. In other words, it's Donald Fagen doing what he does best, which is always good enough.

None of this is to say that the songs, themselves, aren't excellent in their own right, but with a voice as heavenly as Correa's, you can hardly go wrong.

Former Lives rolls along with solidly steady results, but there aren't too many songs that stand out.

These 12 songs are as simple as it gets--just two musicians harmonizing and plucking away, making up in soul and pure joy what they lack in overstuffed arrangements.

They register only a fleeting impact, but display cleverness and craftsmanship that far surpasses that of your run-of-the-mill tropical-themed country tune.

Shut Down The Streets really peaks at the end with a pair of downcast slow-builders which strike just the right balance of melancholy and melody.

Dylan's talent for matching, smart plentiful (arguably too much so) words to chiming melodies supported by a solid, unpretentious rock band and sung with conviction has returned.