The modern touches in particular - set in such sharp contrast to the rawness of the more human elements - make this an artistic statement worth hearing. If it can't quite match the cathartic experience of listening to some of the early masters, it still beats the increasingly slick face much blues music has taken on in recent times.

Orbit tackles the classics with a reverence that occasionally calls to mind the original work of Vangelis with it's sparse and delicate blips that are more refined than you would expect even from the most devout music historian.

The album is often angular, odd, and unpredictable, but always contributing to a relaxed atmosphere.

Fans of the The Verve, or just plain fans of "Bittersweet Symphony," may feel a little let down as the record as a whole, though still steeped in a love of strings and complex arrangement, does not carry the same sonic weight of previous work.

This record is strictly Music For Adults, with songs about kids and real love and life.... Essentially, it is soothing background music for troubled times.

Know Your Enemy loses all its momentum when Manic Street Preachers decide that they have something to say.

A haunting through line of notes that impact wonderfully in stirring the darker recesses of the mind.

A small, intimate record that not only reminds us of Hatfield's sweet-n-wry junior high voice, but also her mature lyric writing.

Testing the limits of what people might want to hear at first, Fisk arguably re-educates us on what music is, and where it comes from, finding rhythm and melody in what many now call Intelligent Dance Music.

The tight focus on craft and detail within the simple compositions and deep emotions Mojave 3 display on their third album, Excuses for Travelers, is something to take note.... Halstead's writing compares closely to Wilco, and Hank Williams on occasion...

The album is in some ways visionary, but it many ways it is just another Morphine album.

The material is perfectly suited to Hammond's subtle syncopation and sauntering vocals. The warmth of the recording makes it seem all the more like listening to a master storyteller sharing tales that have been passed down through generations.

A flawless blend of acoustic-turns-into-fuzz guitar work and backbeat rhythms that create the aural equivalent of fog.

[I]f anything this album is less rock than the last one, while the droves of extra instruments are used more as decoration than as tools to create broad soundscapes.... Ultimately this album might be a step forward for Fastball, but they end up in essentially the same place.

Taken only for what it is, Gorillaz is an engaging, if not entirely arresting, journey through sluggish mood rock and jazzy hip-hop. Taken for what it aspires to be, though, it's more disappointing than awe-inspiring...

An album that when all the preconceived notions and over baring expectations are stripped away, boils down to a good old fashioned soul record, filled with all the accoutrements that call to mind the glory days of 60's R&B.

Rockers and ballads are both delivered with pure '80s polish and shine. It doesn't make for as interesting a listen as the folk and funk of this year's Vol. 1, but that's not the point. If that was the thinking man's Everclear, this is the purely visceral edition. At the very least an exhilarating, fist-pumping ride, Vol. 2 is proof that a little energy can go a long way.

Plays like a perfect meld of old school soul, modern day hip-hop and trance like hypnosis, with guest vocalists from all ends of the spectrum binding the event into a surprisingly cohesive whole.

Like Radiohead with Kid A, Air benefits greatly here from the extra slack given only to those somehow deemed "artists" rather than mere musicians. Coming from almost anyone else, this album would end up in the trash heap long before it had a chance to sink in.

A Rollins in the Wry stands on its own two feet not so much as a spoken word album chock full of hyphenated poems about how "No one knows me; I am the enigma," but more as punk rock comedy, or hit-and-miss Bill Hicks with tattoos.

Placebo's indie-glam rock fusion still sounds on CD like a good idea, and little more.

In spite of cosmetic differences, though, much of Vapor Transmission hints at a gaudy, synth-driven interpretation of Korn.

But, while they might benefit at times from more distinctive guitar riffs, AAF's ability to dot the map without losing focus makes ANThology the kind of debut that gives cause to look ahead in anticipation of where they might take things for album number two.

What's lacking, though, is context.

PRG has obviously matured to a point that allows them to avoid formula and the pressures of writing another hit song. This is both for the better and for the worse as PRG deliver an album that at times is both graceful pop art and long-winded pontification.

It's not a perfect album, and it's second half plays too openly with synth pop elements. The subtle beats and loops feel forced. But it has its moments of beauty, its songs worth listening to more than once.

With all that studio experience and expertise, Garbage inevitably sounds slicker than a bobsled track. But it can become a little too slick: the flawless sound often only exposes and exacerbates their shortcomings as writers.

Cherry Poppin' Daddies pull off decent songs even when they aren't the most convincing of exercises in genre - and better than decent when they let the horns loose. Soul Caddy just can't live up to the swingin' good times of its predecessor.