When Clarkson forges a real emotional connection--like on the raw, personal title track, another standout vocal showcase--the album transcends the hammier, more hackneyed moments in between.

Of the book, the flick, and the soundtrack, only the music really hits hard enough to leave a lasting mark.

While it does have a couple of moments, much of the album sounds like he is just, filling out paperwork.

Behind the dance bump, Communion is confessional synth-pop with a heart full of heavy feelings.

The album finds the 36-year old singer trying to take advantage of his newfound spotlight by striving to become the full-fledged pop star he's never quite been.

Producer Greg Wells (Katy Perry, OneRepublic, Adele) dresses all that [emotional complexity and angst] up with greater sonic sophistication, guiding the All-American Rejects toward a more bombastic brand of pop.

At this point, the Brothers are effectively ­historians, and the album's most thrilling moments are often references to their own past or inspirations.

Half [of] this EP is a weak gesture in the direction of current radio trends.... But on the other half of this EP, Dream shows an impressive new dimension to his romantic games.

Although the style vs. substance debate has been raging for more than 50 years along Nashville's Music Row, there's no mystery about which side Alan Jackson falls on.

Barter 6 does not have a comparable entry point. Instead, this album offers cohesion and unity, though maybe at the expense of the exciting, what-will-happen next feel of past mixtapes.

Mario has a broken heart and he's pouring it all out on his latest set, D.N.A.

Reference points include Liars and The Fall, but Girl Band is very much its own beast.

Deja-Vu is at its best when it sounds like a victory lap, not a labored attempt to keep up.

It’s evocative and vivid, recalling early Red House Painters, or even The Blue Nile.

On Storyteller, it’s striking to hear her respond to varied musical textures by expanding her repertoire, toying with inflection and phrasing, and bringing new wrinkles to the characters she’s inhabiting.

The Album About Nothing is his most personal piece of work to date, and also his best. That hair-trigger sensitivity can be off-putting, but it's also what makes him good at what he does.

Taylor is at his best when he brings his fuddy-duddy charm.

Humanoid is no less appealingly shiny than its 2007 stateside debut, "Scream." But with the exception of the song 'Automatic,' an instantly catchy chunk of bubble-grunge perfection, it does have fewer killer melodies, which allows more of your brain to focus on Kaulitz's lyrics.

Even in English, even without bachata, Royce hasn't lost what makes him ­special: his ability to emote, to deliver lyrics as though he believes them vehemently and make the listener do the same.

New York duo the Books continue their tradition of using intriguing vocal samples behind folk-and electronic-based compositions on fourth album "The Way Out." This time around, the group also mixes jazz-fusion with quirky dialogue that ranges from meditation speeches to intimate voice mails.

The album is a good-faith effort to match or even outstrip the band's onstage eclecticism, and the musical personality shifts help relieve the group's tendency to blandness, providing cover for Brown's dutifully generic, if personable voice.

Buffet Hotel might be less about the songs and more about generating a vibe. If you subscribe to it going in, you'll check out happy.

He can sound awkward navigating Swift’s vernacular of haters and mad love, but when he plays up his strengths--the fingerpicking and strings on “Blank Space,” or changing the “Style” lyric “James Dean daydream” to “Daydream Nation,” a nod to Sonic Youth--the universality of great songwriting shines through.

The stripped-down songs on Terrible World--guitar-driven variations on God-fearing gospel ("Carolina Low") and Laurel Canyon country ("Lake Song")--are its best. After years of extravagance, dressing down turns out to be The Decemberists' strong suit.

Although it may not be a punk album through and through, songs like "The Stick" and "Where Was My Brain?" embody the genre's spirit with pounding drums, frenzied guitars and rushed deliveries (the former cut clocks in at less than two minutes), while "Mourning in America" mixes the genre's chaotic arrangements and political bite with Leo's usual power-pop flare.

EVOL doesn’t break any rules or set many new ones, but as the latest in a seemingly never-ending series of wonders Future and his team wield in their creation of druggy, downcast afterparty dispatches, it is a joy.

Amid synth-y disco ­dalliances ("Alive Tonight") and soul-funk workouts ("Your Girl"), she leaves room for snarling riffs on "Look What We've Become" and acoustic boom on "Empty Heart," reminiscent of Sheryl Crow's "Leaving Las Vegas."

Yet with its rowdy gang vocals and efficient club beats, Battle of the Sexes is ultimately more concerned with partying than with politics.