George dives in full bore, her voice navigating his undulating road map like so many animated bluebirds flitting through a forest.

Throughout, Berg never loses his appeal.

From the first strains of 'Haiku'--an opening instrumental that merges the acid squelches of early rave with an insistent breakbeat and--yes!--congas--it's obvious that this guy's aesthetic is so clear to him that mixing disparate elements is a breeze.

It's complex and distorted, but at times it's not clear why the group's energy is purposely restrained.

Conor Oberst doesn't sound much different from any of Bright Eyes' acoustic material, except that it is lacking in the bare honesty of his earlier albums.

Randy Newman's shock-and-aw-shucks wit is so joyfully scathing at times on "Harps and Angels" that it's hard to believe it's been nine years since his last album of new material.

Lloyd still serves up a satisfying sophomore suite.

Emo fans will be satisfied; dabblers will have their assumptions about the genre confirmed.

On New York City, Brazilian Girls have crafted a set as internationally diverse as the Big Apple itself.

It all goes down smooth until Gordon introduces funk ("Radar Blip," "Jaded") and calypso ("Morphing Again") to the mix, with the results sounding stiff or dated. But make no mistake: He's got plenty to be proud of here.

That Lonesome Song is a testament to raw and real, right down to open studio mics catching stray commentary and static from a bad input.

The all-original Venus in Overdrive demonstrates the strengths that keep Springfield in the game: broad stylistic range and pure emotional energy.

Malakian and SOAD drummer John Dolmayan have indeed brought something new for their fans to love--and perhaps even for non-fans as well, given the more direct and accessible nature of Scars' music.

Spider might not make you forget "Welcome to My Nightmare," but it's nevertheless a cheerfully twisted yarn delivered with a full-on dose of guitar rockers, the requisite ballad, a soaring anthem, a bit of Beck-flavored groovery, some sly humor and nods to Cooper's glam rock past.

Paul Weller's all over the place with his ninth solo album--he visits all his touchstones, but there's less nostalgia and more experimentation infused into the tracks than usual. And that's a good thing.

The group's rocket ride appears to have preserved its more appealingly eccentric tendencies: frontman Reggie Youngblood's ridiculous yelp of a singing voice, for instance, or Dawn Watley's ultra-cheesy synth lines, which quote pretty much every new wave hit of the '80s.

The upgraded melodic sense makes CSS stand out from all the other electropop bands that sound like Liquid Liquid and can turn a smutty lyric.

Thoughtfully added complexities and musicality, like the horns and honky-tonk pianos that accent 'Army of Ancients,' bring Dr. Dog's now-familiar style to a new level of maturity and prove it's not just destiny bringing the band its success

While it's still age-appropriate for minors, Breakout is for the big kids too.

Sugarland's third album, finely crafted with producer Byron Gallimore, is proof positive that singer/songwriters Jennifer Nettles and Kristian Bush are on the cusp of superstardom.

More fun and more listenable than anyone could have expected.

The music is stripped-down but robust, with de la Rocha on vocals and keyboard and Theodore on drums.

Brooklyn's working class heroes have stepped up their musicality (harpsichord is featured on "One for the Cutters") and melodic balladry ("Lord, I'm Discouraged" is an aching prayer), while still providing their signature cacophonous anthems.

Object 47 is at once warmly familiar as Wire yet not a "return" to any particular sonic period in the group's convoluted history.

From "Project Roach," where Nas says that the NAACP's burial of "n*gger" was pointless, to "Untitled," which discusses Louis Farrakhan's role in America, the Queens MC impresses his listener while provoking social and political thought.

Searching for a ray of lyrical light in John Mellencamp's latest treatise on the state of the world proves consuming—but largely fruitless. That, however, makes the album all the more compelling.

The extremes offer up a portrait of a man far more complex than what we get from many of Banner's peers, and the inventive beats (by Banner, Cool & Dre, Akon and others) add vital life to his gruff flow. But you have to wonder if some of these tracks simply reflect the rapper's desire to be all things to all consumers.

As if almost effortlessly, Travis proves track after track the difference between bravado and stone-cold brilliance.

Tango remains the constant for Bajofondo, but the 17 tracks offer quite a few variations on a theme.

Nothing makes as quick of an impact as 'Crazy,' but give the tunes time and you'll find they stick around.

The album is filled with big guitar noise and mildly incongruous but not unpleasant mixtures of modern riffs ("Rocket"), new wave basslines ("Victory at Monterey") and retro hooks and melodies ("Miss Myrtle").

An album whose enviably assured vibe pretty much drips out of the speakers.

Exit Strategy finds Ron Sexsmith exploring his songwriting talent in new ways, crafting an instantly memorable album full of soulful, classic pop tunes.

Flaunting the band's love for classic AOR riffs more here than on any other previous record, Nude chugs along on the strength of licks lifted from Led Zeppelin ("The Kicking Machine") and "Killer"-era Alice Cooper ("The Stupid Creep"), bringing a sense of boogie to Buzz's now-perfectly honed tablature of bludgeoning guitar work.

On this excellent debut by her new duo with programmer Adam Pallin, Imani Coppola sounds no more interested in sticking to a single style than she usually does.

These guys seem comfortable with the added sheen--a few tracks could be the Killers covering the Misfits--but Skiba's tunes aren't quite as memorable as those on earlier Alkaline Trio discs, which blunts the overall effect.

Although little on Hymn and Her finds Earlimart venturing into new territory, there's a familiarity felt throughout that remains comforting, and sometimes that's just enough.

The rest of Identified, though, panders to the preteen demo with stop-start pop that ranges from pleasant (the title track) to dull ("Amazed") to off-putting ("Hook It Up"). But for little girls, this is one nonstop singalong.

Ultimately, G-Unit has returned to its aggressive roots, but it would've been wonderful to hear it rap over a more varied assortment of beats.

With expectations tempered for Forgiven, the sibling trio from Texas doesn't panic but rather retrenches, returning to the easy-grooving, harmony-laden Carlos Santana-meets-Stevie Ray Vaughan feel of its first album.

Last 2 Walk should satisfy longtime Three 6 fans.

The best part of Sparro is that he's not just multiplying old styles by new sounds. Dressed like a raver B-boy, switching between Rufus Wainwright and D'Angelo, the boy's not faking it.

Sweeping violins and take-no-prisoners guitars co-exist in producer Tony Visconti's gorgeous glam frame for Escovedo's visionary sound.

Fire Songs proves the Watson Twins are a strong songwriting team, and one that has earned its time in the spotlight.

While not every song is a winner, the title track and sleaze anthem 'This Ain't a Love Song' are standouts.

Party Intellectuals contains enough noise and/or dead space to ruin the flow of many an iPod shuffle, but experimental jazz or avant-garde fans should find enough here to sink their teeth into.

It's the beats and production that really define an RZA release, and they're as intoxicating as ever on Digi Snacks.

While the middle tracks tend to get lost in the shuffle, fans of Brock's Modest Mouse will be drawn to the horn-inflected swagger of "Bonnie and Clyde" and the stretched-out jam of album highlight "Konny and Jim."

Bright guitar hooks, expansive piano and Jimi "Jazz" Prescott's driving bass create tracks like "Wiggle Worm" and "Georgia Brown" that are as engrossing as they are stress-reducing.

A warm, enjoyable effort, but perhaps short on the Jews' best asset: Berman himself.

The rest is closer to the Coldplay we know: a competent blend of heavily orchestrated redemption songs ('Viva La Vida,' already the biggest hit of the band's career), swirly arena rock ('Lovers in Japan') and life-stinks-without-you ballads ('Strawberry Swing')likely to resonate despite the new bells and whistles.

Throughout, eerie production touches (metallic clinks and synth bleeps on 'Where in This World') and organic sounds (acoustic guitars and glockenspiel on the title track) fit seamlessly to form the Notwist's most charming and complex work to date.

The time between now and its 2005 Sub Pop debut, "Apologies to the Queen Mary," allowed the group to more fully develop its sound. At Mount Zoomer expands upon the bits-and-pieces pop approach of its debut into a solid set of rock songs.

Engineered for short attention spans at just 44 minutes, One of the Boys is still more than enough to make this one long, hot summer for Perry.

There are potent moments like the rise-and-fall ballad 'Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?' and the fierce 'Nothingtown,' but 'Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace' sounds more like a tentative step in the Offspring's new direction.

Nostradamus isn't likely to surprise you--this is softcore for the hardcore.

Tilly and the Wall stick with their signature combination of half-shouted words and harmony vocals. But the group also breaks new ground with punk rock riffs and percussion that well surpasses the standard of tambourines and Jamie Pressnall's tap dancing.

Supergrass has gone from energetic, young and roughshod to energetic, veteran and polished.

The My Morning Jacket frontman cackles, croons, wails, wallops and stomps through the band's fifth and latest great album.

Morissette's superb lyrics leave you cheering for her--and assured that she's going to be just fine.

Harris' take on Tracy Chapman's 'All That You Have Is Your Soul' is definitive, and 'Beyond the Great Divide' provides a sublime closing to an album that was well worth the wait.

With help from A-list guest stars (T-Pain, Robin Thicke) and producers (Kanye West, Swizz Beatz), Lil Wayne backs up the boasts [of "best rapper alive"] on the oft-delayed Tha Carter III.

Back for round two, sophomore album Here We Stand doesn't quite bring anything new to the table, but does carry on in the same fun, brash rock tradition of the debut.

Under Rubin's direction, Dylan's laid-back rasp, often laced with smoky harmonies, gains weight and texture.

Thematically starved, Seeing Sounds is nonetheless a sonic feast.

This self-released third record sees them right back on form.

Dark yet delectable, Velocifer suits Ladytron just right.

Cuomo turns the mic over to the other three members of Weezer for a song each (the best: "Automatic," sung by drummer Pat Wilson), unironically salutes the influence of Nirvana ("Heart Songs") and marries fake crowd noise and piano to the thick power chords of "Greatest Man." Rock on.

After 2005 concept album "The Forgotten Arm" was poorly received, Aimee Mann is back to writing stand-alone pop songs, and lo and behold, they comprise her most compelling album to date.

Perfectly Clear is not only persuasive, but down-home, old-school country.

It all adds up to a guilty pleasure for those old enough to remember the '80s.

One of the most valuable qualities of good music is its ability to transport you to a moment in your past, a place you'll never see or somewhere that doesn't even exist. Thanks to their gloriously retro (and occasionally eerie) three-part harmonies, Seattle's Fleet Foxes accomplish all the above with their self-titled debut.

A substantial addition to the band's catalog.

On the synthy, Darkchild-produced 'So Over You,' Ashanti croons about getting past a former relationship, while the Jermaine Dupri-mixed 'Good Good,' featuring elements of Michael Jackson's 'The Girl Is Mine,' finds her confidently belting about her abilities to please in bed.

The group backs it up with a forceful sonic fusillade that recalls Disturbed's 2000 debut, "The Sickness," while doing away with some of the melodic niceties that crept into "Ten Thousand Fists" and 2002's "Believe," right down to Draiman's jungle animal vocals.

After a four-year break, Usher's fifth set is bursting with grown man, true-to-life tales like leaving his player ways behind ("Before I Met You"), falling in love ("Something Special," "Lifetime" and the title track), making love ("This Ain't Sex") and having a child.

Green's voice remains lithe magic, and he's brought in such contemporary all-stars as Anthony Hamilton (on the album's two best tracks, "You've Got the Love I Need" and the slinky title song), John Legend and Corinne Bailey Rae for help.

Pierce ties the dark to the light with poetic folk ballads like closing lullaby "Goodnight Goodnight," making A&E a strange and pleasing concoction of old and new.

There's an overall retro feel to the production that will no doubt delight minions, but those same faithful are old enough to appreciate meaning behind the melodies.

The result is simple and sparse, but more satisfying than heavier-handed electronic projects.

The whole set is heavily dosed with reverb and electro-swirls, perhaps to cloak Johansson's vocal limitations as much as to add psychedelia.

With Steve Turner's guitar a buzzing hangover and Mark Arm snarling with irresistibly creepy restraint, Mudhoney's eighth studio album finds the band rocking like it's 1988 . . . or 2008.

This Montreal band's Anti- debut is a far more calculated, robust affair than its first album, 2006's "Return to the Sea."

On the Jodeci-sampled 'You're Everything,' Bun B rhymes about his love for his hometown of Houston, while poverty, politics and spirituality dominate the reflective 'If It Was Up to Me.' But the most heartfelt track on the album is the one dedicated to Pimp C, 'Angel in the Sky.'

Some cuts, like the cover of 'Pretty in Pink,' or the tensionless march of 'Mouse and the Model,' didn't need to be resurrected. But others, like the singalong rolling notes of 'Sorry Bunch' or 'Night Reconnaissance,' a multipart romp about middle-class vagrants, can stand with the Dolls' A-sides.

This surprisingly lively set finds the former disco diva teaming with a crew of young collaborators--including Greg Kurstin, Danielle Brisebois, Ziggy Marley, J.R. Rotem and Lester Mendez--for a series of uptempo forays into stomping dance-pop, juke-joint blues-rock, breezy Latin jazz and African-accented soul.

Taut musicianship, well-crafted songs and potent vocals make this a landmark album in an already multiplatinum career.

The formula isn't quite as fresh here as it has been on previous outings; after a few tracks, the amped-up glee-club vibe can begin to wear on all but the most devoted of nerves.

To save themselves from the sneaking accusation that they were fizzling out, the quartet self-produced and -mixed "Swimming," and the result is an album notably more laid-back and truer to their wistful personalities than 2006's "Two Thousand."

Their technically adventurous playing occasionally gathers some spooky steam, but this is definitely a fans-only affair.

Rockferry splits its time between paying tribute to its source material and knocking it off, but its principal's vocals, and generally pleasing wall-of-sound treatment, make it a good move anyway.

The songs here hit with a full-on assault of crunching guitar riffs, distorted, cracked vocals and walls of disorienting feedback, while lyrically, frontman Ben Gibbard visits the moodier and darker corners of his mind.

Comfortable and confident all the way through, and a highly welcomed return.

Jason Mraz emerges even bolder than before on an album loaded with strings, horns, formidable grooves and a dozen songs dripping with mantra-like positivity.

The breakdowns on songs like "Dee-Ree-Shee" and "You in Color" truly highlight each member's technical and dynamic abilities; the crescendos emphasize their quantum power to make great art as a group.

Songs like 'Calm Like You' and 'Black Plant' positively swing, and despite the presence of a 22-piece orchestra, the lyrical bite and brisk pacing mean things never topple into cheesy pastiche. Moonlighting hasn't been this much fun since Bruce Willis had hair.

This London-based crooner emerged in the early '00s as the face of Britain's 2-step scene, but on his fourth full-length Craig David doesn't sound tethered to any one sound in particular.

Nouns is a more likable and less abrasive version of No Age, with a little something for everyone and a little nothing for no one as well.