Purists may find Jones' stuffy-nosed tone and tics of phrasing objectionable, yet she reaches directly into the heart of each classic in intimate readings.

On one hand, Vavoom! has the same can't-sit-still energy and brilliant musicianship of the 17-piece orchestra's previous efforts... But it sometimes seems as if Vavoom! goes a little too far in its attempt to sound experimental and break new ground in updated big band music.

Williams weaves beguiling, thought-provoking melodies, and turns each track into an artfully produced scenario.

Without the dread, the songs can come across without drama.

A good chunk of soulful melody tinged with delightful, lackadaisical vocals and reggae vibrations.

While the band's trademarked, reverb-drenched riffs remain, they're now intermingled with lots of skronks, bleeps, and clicks... After a sluggish start, most of what's here works as well as anything in the vast Man or Astro-Man? catalogue.

Certainly a talented guitar-playing songstress, she also takes her lyrical cues from Hallmark cards, a mix at once comfortable and off-putting -- and difficult to put one's finger on.

An expert balance of vintage Aerosmith and more contemporary stylings.

An album that takes a dramatic leap forward from the wafer-thin reggae he was peddling on his debut album...

Cydonia breaks little new ground.

Few bands exceed Alpha in the creation of truly encompassing and sensual chill-out tunes, and while The Impossible Thrill fails to really explore new territory, it's revisiting familiar and hallowed ground.

Obviously trying to explore horizons beyond big beat (a genre now loathed by many in his native England), Cook diversifies his palette but, as the title unfortunately foreshadows, he only gets Halfway there.

Neither as sonically striking or politically conscious as Cornershop's well-received 1997 release, When I Was Born for the Seventh Time, Disco and the Halfway to Discontent is definitely the type of album a band can make when success provides an opportunity to experiment.

The album provides hard evidence that the dynamite punch of 1998's Devil Without a Cause album was no fluke.

Injecting the best aspects of Americana to Bragg's inherently British approach makes this one of the early contenders for folk-rock album of the year.

There are a few winners here among the brick-and-mortar alt-flak -- which the band is wholeheartedly capable of as well...

Less Casio-centric and nicely encompassing more of the Nottingham native's pop side, Volume 2 is decked out with piano, horns, and a plethora of guitars.

Though the first two songs, "Now" and "Rabble Rouser," sound like vintage KMFDM, the rest of the album finds the group being more of a rock band with industrial leanings than an industrial band with rock leanings.

With its brand of easily accessible pop rock, the Austin, Texas-based trio presents an extremely likable musical front that's based more upon influence than innovation.

Here again, it's a maddening ping-ponging between genius and plain stupidity.

The essential internationalism that characterizes this global showcase of a disc is mind-blowing in both scope and quality.

On Faith and Courage, she returns with the blend of Celtic mysticism, commercial pop, and mature themes that moved so many listeners (and units) on 1990's I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got, while pulling out a few trip-hop stops to keep things current.

Underneath it all, they're not much different than the fans who buy their records, and it's that adoration of sound that makes Back to Mine shine.

On third album Survivor, the DC coming-out party, the song kind of remains the same: When the girls are on, this is the kind of surreally and subversively brilliant Top-40 music even the most jaded roll their windows up and blast; when they're not, it's a pretty bad day at the girl-band factory.

The smoothed-out international pop sound lets Beenie focus on doing what he does best -- making party music for party people.

Whatever its negligible shortcomings, Golden State at least serves to inject a depth of vision to what formerly was a rather one-dimensional musical entity.

But for all these guests and all of Silkk's versatility, My World, My Way still suffers from the same formulaic production -- all bleating synths and skittering drum programs -- that makes all No Limit productions seem indistinguishable.

Gandhi Khan is full of the dark, dirty production Van Helden has championed recently.