All of the pop-coated rock that was immediately catchy, aggressive, melodic, seductive, melancholic, and driven from those two albums [Garbage and Version 2.0] can be found here – from the ramped up, unrelenting beats to the bright electronics and propulsive guitar lines, to Shirley's changeable, ever-engaging vocals.

Laswell and company have crafted something deeply personal and profound, and it's destined to be a milestone in his career.

Time to Die reveals a band that is continuing to grow with scintillating results. Luckily for us, no one’s sitting in the backseat here.

Incumbent crescendos and contemplative guitar interludes notwithstanding, Mono has chosen to cloak itself in the inescapable fog of its forefathers and influences rather than transcend the sum of its parts.

If well-crafted folk-pop leaves you feeling lukewarm, by all means join the naysayers; otherwise, I'll be on the side of those dancing and singing along.

As a release for anyone else, this would be a well received and respected release. But for Ben Folds, whose first two solo outings were both phenomenal, he simply hasn’t lived up to expectations.

Xenophanes might be the most concise statement Rodriguez Lopez has ever made (11 tracks in 45 minutes), and its tidiness is evident from the (mostly) taut song structures, urgent pacing, shortened solos, and singable melodies.

[The album’s final track is] a satisfying conclusion to the band’s best album since 2000’s Black Market Music.

Calla's sound continues to evolve as they explore divergent musical avenues within the context of potent, atmospheric alt-rock.

Ultimately, for a more cohesive and less exhausting listen, the most accessible parts of Dead could have been crunched-down into a more easily-digestible mini-album.

Whatever the circumstances have been in Lana's rise to fame, all that doesn't detract from the captivating quality of the songs on Born To Die.

The Thrills still have more musical verve than many other second-album victims, but too much of this album seems as if The Thrills have wearied of their own sunny musical dispositions.

[Its] strongest songs more than compensate for the few lapses in songwriting found elsewhere.

While Sydney Vermont's shaky, unusual voice might rub some the wrong way, I found it to be awkwardly beautiful - much like the rest of Hello, Blue Roses' debut album.

The album feels like a grab-bag of the band’s process, but not a cohesive expression of their craft.

Lament after lament, they start to all blend together, and all of Thomas's considerable skill as a singer, musician, and composer can't seem to create any really arresting moments, just a lot of pretty songs.

Combining vaudeville melodies alongside a quirky pop sensibility lifts the eleven songs here above the merely angular and takes us to a unique space, and probably not somewhere everyone would want to go, but to my ears Moonwink's only real flaw is its brevity.

Sing Along To Songs You Don’t Know is another fine example of how múm is evolving and continually expanding on their already diverse musical pallette.

For every standout track on the record there is another song where Sparta takes a step back to assess the situation and falters a little bit.

An unquestionable oblique listen by mainstream standards, but compared to Of Montreal's previous offerings, Paralytic Stalks demonstrates an intimacy and immediacy which Barnes would do well to repeat.

All in all, this is a very impressive record, one that succeeds on just about every little tweak of the pop idiom it attempts.

Despite the band’s annoying lyrics, their beats can be catchy and they have a kick-ass bass player.

Talk about a debut album, Panic Movement is worth more than just NME hype.

It might be an altogether superfluous release but when the music is as expertly crafted to begin with, it's a solid sensation for anyone to notice.

There’s enough depth and variety here to keep you entertained after the first listen.

Joan Of Arc’s latest is much more abrasive, much edgier and squeamish than what I’ve come to expect from them. And that’s not a bad thing at all.

7th Symphony feels like an album that's 60% true artistic vision and 40% simply borrowed from the mainstream to fill out the track listing. If Apocalyptica can craft songwriting that's unique, mature and deep, they should include it on the next album. If not, they should just stick to the instrumentals.

The songs themselves feel loose, a bit non-cohesive, making How to Get to Heaven... a good, though not great, album.