A throbbing pop record of schizophrenic highs and lows as hyper-kinetic as its beats.

Sailing to Philadelphia, the singer's guest-star-heavy sophomore outing, is a deliberate, grown-up record (in a season which has seen a pronounced lack of adult offerings) that feels -- heavily in places -- like Dire Straits: Five Years Later.

A dozen WB-ready theme songs that slay in that charmingly plastic way.

The sounds are simply too dark and sweaty for most fans' home listening.

The pleasant surprise is that, after all the personnel changes, Duran Duran still has its characteristic sound and charisma...

Of course, despite experimentation, Revelation is bloated with ballads.

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.

Shopping Trolley is a fun, for-the-fans work with a heavy dosage of otherwise unavailable rarities. It's safe to say, however, that casual listeners looking for Gomez's Philips [TV commercial] appeal are not best served here. Try 1998's Bring It On instead.

While convincingly earnest and certainly ambitious, the result is formulaic, and lacks the free-wheelin', soulful magic of the original

The album as a whole leans a little too far toward dissonance and gratuitous noisemaking.

The Doc's latest product, Malpractice, seems less focused and inspired than usual, and it lacks the kind of momentum that made albums such as Whut? Thee Album and Blackout, his 1999 collaboration with Method Man, instant classics.

This time, their quiet storm sounds like it's lost its thunder. There are no big emotional booms on the ballad-heavy album, just a confluence of harmless little raindrops and heartstring tugs.

Like Collective Soul, Vertical Horizon, and Matchbox Twenty before them, Train is a fairly faceless, generic rock band that writes straight-ahead, sing-along tunes. As a result, some of the songs on this, their second album, will make some people happy -- and other people just sleepy.

The album, as a whole, is not a washout; it just doesn't live up to the hype and expectations.

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.

But, due to poor track titling and a rather wishy-washy sound (first it's Rusted Root, and then the Pixies, then Frank Black and the Catholics), the album ultimately doesn't have much of a solid impact.

Cocky's surprises remain few and far between.

Cydonia breaks little new ground.

The first thirty minutes are a chaotic mess of style over substance, and while Joi's weirdness immediately sets her apart, "It's Your Life" and "Techno Pimp" are cloying and difficult to listen to.

There's little here that rises above the prosaic.

On such ballads as "Corner of the Earth" and "Black Crow," Odyssey seems to come up short.... But when the intention is to make you move, Odyssey shines brightly.

Solaris is like no Photek album you've ever heard before: It's an album that celebrates both dance and relaxation, touching on deep house, trip-hop, and ambient, with (gasp) only one drum-and-bass track (the typically spare "Infinity"). Sentimentality for his musical roots and the desire to create music with a warmer, more human feel drive Photek on these 11 disparate tracks, and the outcome is mixed.

Music is a weaker record than its predecessor, with only a few tracks possessing the strength, pop sensibility, and hooks that made Ray of Light such a success.

Travis' knack for making saccharine songs is both a blessing and a curse; one doesn't know whether to feel the love or scream bloody murder.

Zevon, so frequently great, should know better.

Getting through this album is a challenge. While Van Helden hits the mark on a few occasions, the bulk of Puritans irritates and frustrates as annoying samples create agonizingly long intros to otherwise solid tracks.

There's nothing lasting or substantive about the 12 tracks (plus one hidden one) that make up Mad Season.

It's obvious right from the start that Vitamin C is going for a sexier, vampier, and more grown-up image on More... But for all of her provocative lyrics and musical innuendoes, Vitamin C doesn't necessarily make a convincing argument that the change is a positive one.