Thought-provoking and masterful, God's Son finds Nas finally realizing his full potential as an MC.

Appears and sounds more like a work-in-progress than a finished disc.

While fans of her early-'90s material will find much to embrace here, those that rallied 'round the singer during her hip-hop days may feel lost and abandoned.

Gillespie's lyrics will never win any Nobels, but the musical excitement generated here is impossible to deny.

The band's most challenging--and rewarding--album.

Perfectly imperfect and totally fearless, this may well be McGraw's crowning achievement in a career already studded with success.

The monochromatic melancholia eventually weighs the disc down, but even when Arthur's songs drag they do so with a grace and beauty that transcends the morose subject matter of his self-pitying lyrics.

A relevant addition to System's catalog.

Beautifully fatalistic and unimposingly pedagogical, Brainwashed is quite possibly Harrison's next-to-best album and a sober reminder that his passing is a loss too large to measure.

In her bid to be a little bit of everything for everyone, some of the unique flavor that has made her a star is sadly diminished.

With such a variety of moods and sounds, "S.T.R.E.E.T. D.A.D." turns out to be the rarest of albums: able to make you think but more interested in making you dance.

Unfortunately, he's traded some of his cutting-edge British mergings (R&B, hip-hop, two-step, rock) for a more crossover-friendly (read: formulaic) approach that doesn't fire on all cylinders.

Even naysayers will have to serve props to Lopez for the considerable growth she reveals as both a performer and tunesmith.

"Machine" is ultimately flawed when the Kahuna boys abandon uptempo techno for atypically hymnal pastures.

Predictable, perhaps, but such aural connections rarely fail as a crowd pleaser.

The group seems incapable of integrating these traits into something new. It's either Morello re-writing his old licks for bash-and-thud Rage-style rawk or Cornell's more straightforward tension/release confessionals.

[It's] quintessential Shania, light as vapor, sweet as sugar, rendered with personality and undeniable charisma.

If Foreigner was still an active, young band, it would sound a lot like Matchbox Twenty.

With its restless spirituality and dense, decidedly un-pop arrangements, Riot Act perhaps most closely resembles that first album (No Code) of the post-Vitalogy years.

By pulling from alt rock's elite past to concoct its own primitive magic, Ikara Colt has come up with a rock solid first album.

The most ambitious and most fully realized album of his career.

A nearly perfect collection.

Touching Down is a fluid set that moves from track to track with little or no delineation. As a result, the album is, at times, redundant.

A treasure trove of musical curios.

They strive to be a classic band, crafting timeless songs that will still be fresh and relevant long after the competition sounds dated and quaint.

"Loud Like Nature" is hard to take seriously, but it shows that those old analog treasures still have a few good songs left in them.

Similar to the artist's Under the Pink in tone and continuity, Scarlet demands repeated spins to fully appreciate its chapters' musical and lyrical complexities.

A must-hear recording rich with pleasantly surprising depth.

With Shaman, Santana delivers an album that will, no doubt, please fans of its globally successful predecessor, while at the same time reel in new ones.

Missteps more than it hits.

But after moving past those first moments of seeming artist/song incongruity, the listener will discover an album full of pleasant surprises and vocals that show Stewart in a most flattering light.

One by One, in all its thunderous angst and desperate expressions of hope, represents a full-on exploration of the Foos '70s influences.

If this disc has a weakness, it's in the somewhat "samey" feel of a couple of the songs, but at just under 40 minutes it's no biggie.

An enchanting introduction to a talented band's equally solid beginnings.

Like many great albums, "Original Pirate Material" wasn't meant to be adored in an instant, so don't let your first impressions fool you. This cat's the real deal.

Like debuts from Zero 7 and the Avalanches, Melody A.M. is well-situated to sit pretty in many critics' annual top 10s come December.

Over the course of 14 cuts, the record gets a tad repetitive, with nary a fiddle or steel break within earshot.

What's left is a tightly wound core of guitar, bass, drums, and vocal harmonies that naïvely captures the spirit and spunk of early rock icons the Kinks and the Beach Boys.

One of her finest albums to date.

Minor flaws aside, these Jersey boys have paid a tribute to their neighboring city befitting that famous New York attitude.

Though highly amusing, the bouts of empowerment on "Teaches" can grow monotonous, due to similar-sounding songs.

It's always sort of tough to rally behind an artist dissin' the music industry—I mean, how do you support someone who's living a rock star's life but still complaining, right? But Tom Petty makes it all too easy here, slyly balancing bitter references to modern-day payola, shifty execs, and even the struggles of artists over 40 with wistful imagery of rock'n'roll dreams.

She remains a monster vocalist just getting started.

Man vs. Machine is an intense set that never stops.

The disc makes so few concessions to current trends that it sounds like something dug up from a time capsule, in the best sense.

Beck has rarely performed with such maturity and confidence, breathing a rich, often haunting baritone into songs that seem to follow a plotline thread of despair after the end of a relationship.

The veteran artiste holds his ground on a collection that is sure to earn him the respect of not only his old fans but a new generation of listeners raised on sonic provocateurs like Beck, Nine Inch Nails, and Moby.

These tracks lack the magnetism of Miller's material with the band.

Showcases Nas' incredible talent as a lyricist and social commentator.

While, at times, Voyage to India seems a bit too preachy, Arie has a way of bringing everything together in a very palatable way.

Gold left many Adams fans listening in awe at the leaps and bounds by which he was growing as a songwriter. This record doesn't do that; and though that's just fine, it makes Demolition less diverse and ultimately less exciting.

The aptly titled "Now You Know" shouldn't be perceived as the end of Martsch's indie rock affiliation, but the sound of an artist delving deeper, and in doing so, hitting his stride.

Frontman David Draiman shows that he is an ample singer, refraining from the quirky vocal squallings that graced Sickness for a more straight-ahead croon.

All in all, "How Animals Move" is a slow-burning, understated gem that intrigues and engages in equal measure.

Night Works is dramatic and flirtatious, as well as warm and inviting.

"The Joy of Sing-Sing" is an aptly-titled delight aimed straight at alt-pop partisans.

The most potent and cohesive album of its career.

An album of stunning simplicity.

There's really no mainstream hip-hop record out there right now that's this diverse (touching on pop, R&B, and dance) and this much focused on producing meaningful, quality music.

A stronger, more distinctive album than its predecessor in nearly every respect.

Sonically rich, Lost in Space is home to some of Mann's most intimate storytelling.

Every song sparkles with a hook or lyrical element strong enough to permanently embed the brain upon impact.

One of the year's best.

While much of "Blacklisted" is hyper-stylized, suited for playing against the backdrop of psychedelic sunsets that only exist in novels and movies, the album's heart remains Case's voice, as real and strong as they come.

The band's cadre of dedicated followers will no doubt forgive the dark direction as they file the disc in with their numerous other classics.

Tropical Storm should be the album that blows away fans and critics alike.

Yet another brilliant pop record for the college radio crowd.

Dedicated fans will be pleased with the results.

Exudes a sense of immediacy and echoes the group's tight live show.

Employing layered guitars, probing bass lines, and the occasional synthesizer swoon, Interpol creates an homage to their particular vision of the '80s that stands proudly alongside the best of its idols.

"One Beat" is so rich with strong new ideas that the dense disc actually takes some getting used to, a real accomplishment for a band some already view as an acquired taste.

Though a few more lively tunes would've been welcome, October Road marks the return of an artist who is as creatively vital as ever.

Sweepingly beauteous and mesmerizingly rhythmic, The Isness offers pleasures equally suited to explorers of dancefloors or headphones.

Under intense pressure to "prove itself," Sparta has done perfectly fine.

Tailor-made for post-club chill-out sessions, as well as weekend brunches at hip cafés, Details delights with warm electronic beats, organic guitars, and multi-tiered strings.

Oberst's fourth full-length is a bleak, bipolar journey through his emotionally charged mind, with melodramatic midnight ballads, dusty piano, and the occasional sexy violin.

An adventurous singer/songwriter just like her sister Shelby Lynne, the vocally gifted Moorer doesn't shy away from bucking country tradition. In fact, she seems to revel in it.

Sensual, mysterious, and provocative, Learning From Falling shines brightly.

Orton has a flair for penning languid, spacious songs whose forlorn characters seem as adrift as the music's fleeting acoustic guitar chords and absentminded piano tinkles.

The five Brits waste their major talents on midtempo songs like "Everyday" and "Four Letter Word."

Impassioned and bold, this record is a triumph.

Toby Keith has developed into a superstar for a reason, and he keeps getting better.

"Revolverlution" may be little more than a curious career capper, but at least the never risk-averse Public Enemy seems to understand that even failure can be your friend if it ultimately helps you move forward and stay fresh.

Busted Stuff is marked by luxuriously long tracks that maximize the skills of the band.

The dynamic range of Plant's vocals may have narrowed, but his emotional range has only widened, with his singing intimate and detailed throughout.

As strange as it is wonderful.

Overflows with a confidence not always present on past sets.

Given the talent on hand it would take some horrible disaster to sink "Optometry," but the combo actually bests expectations.

This is a showcase of a hugely important American artist at full power.

This is one beautiful record.

With this mostly impressive album, Loewenstein has stepped out from behind Sebadoh founder Lou Barlow's shadow to prove he's a powerful songwriter and player in his own right.

While the electronic flourishes and arrogant bombast that respectively marred the band's last two efforts are thankfully gone, there's nothing on Heathen Chemistry to suggest that the "Wonderwall" commercial glory days of the mid-'90s are coming back.

Features some of the group's most focused and seductive work ever.

"Long Walk Home" passes the ultimate soundtrack test: it stands alone beautifully, capably supporting the work of director Phillip Noyce while at the same time feeling like a natural and fluid extension of Gabriel's own distinctive artistic vision.

Kudos for making such a disparate collection hang together as a cohesive, upbeat, infectious whole.

17 tracks of "edutainment" that are as enjoyable for adults as they are for kids.

A soul-searching set that recalls such pre-"Let's Dance" collections as Heroes and Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps).

Throughout, Cookie crackles with intensity, be it of the sexual, political, or religious kind.