Blink-182 sticks to the winning formula of past efforts Dude Ranch and Enema of the State on Jacket, an extremely well-produced, hard-hitting exercise in pre-pubescent punk rock that will no doubt sell millions to throngs of misguided juveniles who relate to the band's piss takes on life's everyday miseries.

The songs are brilliantly Costello-esque, fairly varied, and don't sound at all dated.

Sharper, edgier, and more twisted than its predecessor, Vol. Two is like a throwback to Everclear's early days, before So Much for the Afterglow launched the Portland trio into the arena rock stratosphere.

Bloodflowers is a marvel. It has something to say, and it delivers that message with passion.

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

Floats, captivates, and repulses simultaneously.

Transcendental Blues measures up to the tough artistic standards Earle has set for himself since 1986's Guitar Town.

This isn't just pop-inflected electronica: Gerald's compositions evince a depth and artistic integrity rare in albums of this ilk.

It's an impressive debut, and one that justifies the hype she's gotten.

Comes with the same muscular, confrontational power that made The Sickness so infectiously exciting, but twists things just enough to make the second time sounds as fresh as the first.

Miller explores his usual subjects -- getting out of places and into relationships -- with more unusual touches.

Like the best of BF5, it's both plaintive and punky.

A sprawling set of immense diversity that's loaded to the brim with dancefloor anthems.

It's surprising how well the songs on White Pony absorb the band's disparate influences (Slayer, the Cure, Bad Brains) without compromising any of its destructive effect.

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

In anybody else's hands, a blending of techy aesthetics and near-tender melodies would be a musical oxymoron, but in Squarepusher's, it is delicious.

Built around mellotrons, bowed saws, and other odd sonic devices, All Is Dream's arrangements often recall the prog-rock heyday of bands such as Can and Yes, albeit with more somber hues.

Sounds like a tighter, more focused version of past glories.

With Kid A, Radiohead has made the ultimate 3 a.m. stoner-headphone album, one that marks an entirely logical progression from -- if not necessarily an improvement upon -- the techno-but-not-really O.K. Computer.... Occasionally, it feels less like a rock record and more like a museum piece, and as a work of art, it's laudable. As an actual, listener-friendly offering, it leaves something to be desired: It's precisely the sort of record a band makes when it has endless amounts of time and money, and has spent long periods of time being told what geniuses its members are.

Just because the Britney Spears Empire was not built on actual artistic merit doesn't mean the singer can't craft -- or have crafted for her -- a snappy and utterly enjoyable pop record.

Bizarre, surreal, and captivating, this record does nothing expected...

Sonically, this is the most diverse and intriguing work of their careers.... A welcome surprise.

On Scratch, they masterfully explore breakbeat fusion, flowing smoothly from scratch to hip-hop to rock and everything in between.

Okay, call it a comeback, because it ought to raise Burke's profile higher than it's been in decades.

The only misstep is in the pacing.

What's so striking about A Hundred Days Off is that frontman/producer Hyde and producer Smith have reshaped Underworld as a duo without coming off as incomplete, overzealous, or jaded.

As a slice of rootsy blues, it works nicely.

There are few big drum samples or disco beats on Sound of Water; as its title suggests, it's far more fluid and sensuous than any music the group has made before.