[A] balanced mix of streetwise, club-ready and bedroom-bumping cuts.

Just when the bombast teases with sounding like nails on a chalkboard, the band turns things around to remain more cool than annoying.

Leto sounds more like Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan than a member of the Screen Actors Guild--even if his lyrics are kind of space-case lame.

Sounds like a funky offshoot of the Stone Roses, mining blissed-out acid grooves, hypnotic rhythms and the kind of distant, detached vocals that don't sound like vocals at all.

'N Sync reminds us why boy bands were put on this earth in the first place: to have a good time.

Los fans--as well as those who just love great, spicy rhythms--will quickly learn that they Canto live without this disc.

While some of the posturing about his bling--as well as the repetitive dirty South beats--might get a little tired, this one is guaranteed to keep it hot in herre all night.

Costa backs away from hip-hop beats and glossy pop melodies and instead digs into meatier classic-rock and soul influences like Sly Stone and Janis Joplin.

The slick production will scare off longtime fans quicker than a cross repels a vampire, but for the rest of us, it's an easy introduction to a crew of weird guys who deserve to be heard.

If you aren't down with Manson, this won't change you one bit. But for Manson fans, Grotesque is beautiful.

The band's naked ambition would be offputting if it didn't come wrapped in such resounding choruses.

Is she blazing new trails? Naw. But this sounds exactly right.

Her lilting angelic voice and ethereal alternating waves of electronic and acoustic musical accompaniment make Nova's contemporary folk-pop tunes perfect for TV-styled teen angst and lessons in love.

The song, sentiment and anger remain the same.

Tunes such as "Escondite Ingles" work in any language, mixing mad Latin percussion with big rock riffs and Carribbean rhythms.

Moore's voice has grown stronger, she updates the covers with some youthful enthusiasm, and, well, these songs are hard to screw up.

Mya's third album should have no problem hanging with the chart-topping competition, seeing how it's stacked with hit after steamy hit.

Shatner oversees some surprisingly tuneful turns.

Two is his most highbrow effort yet.

Our adult Malkmus is less prone to toss off a half-finished rough gem and more likely to polish and polish until things are a little too shiny.

Sure, it takes some time to sink in, but once it gets a hold of your heart, it won't let go.

Palookaville will surprise you.

While he lags a bit in the emotional department, he nails the spirit with songs like "She's Lost Total Control" and "So Alive."

Armed with a summer anthem and all ("Lucy Doesn't Love You"), it shouldn't be long before Ivy's popularity grows.

Sure, the band is still peddling the same vaguely Americana M.O.R. sound that the Wallflowers and Counting Crows perfected in the mid-'90s, but for once it actually sounds interesting.

By mimicking the sound of every Hot Topic band crashing into one--with songs that pilfer from the Killers, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy--we have to wonder if they haven't just orchestrated their own extinction.

Crazy and fun, this is for the people who thought Gnarls Barkley's album was a little too tame.

Somewhere in here, there's a lovely, compact, cohesive little album. It just takes a little too much digging to find it.