The soundtrack was clearly as much a labor of love as the film...

While there's no question that this is rooted in the '80s (not always a good thing), when the two concentrate on songs, it sounds mighty good.

Listen beyond the surface and you'll hear an old school folkie who could just as easily curl up with her acoustic guitar and sing you to heavenly sleep.

Daring and inventive, it takes the kind of stylistic chances and creative leaps that were once the property of the heavies of '60s rock and pop.

Their strongest effort since their strong run in the mid/late-'80s.

Like P. Diddy in his prime or even Jay-Z, Nelly simply knows what the people want, and delivers--which is never as easy as the haters suggest.

A scrappy little album that at times has a frustrating same-y-ness to it, but with each of the disc's tunes lasting no longer than three minutes, the Raveonettes' proto-punk formula never outstays its welcome.

While there is much to recommend this disc, Moth would be wise to develop a more distinctive voice.

When Adams sticks to the pop-rock mode, he can be dynamic as well as one of the cleverest pop thieves since Nick Lowe.

Offers 12 diamonds that aren't quite total pop or total rock--but fall in a wonderful zone somewhere in between.

In austere style and apolitical theme, it's similar to Ndegocello's 1996 outing Bitter, but this is the work of an older, wiser woman who can view that album's romantic failures within a bigger picture.

Adamson lives in a dream and his music is a delicious trip through time.

Glossy, electronic, and at times quite infectious, the record extends Vitamin C's bubbly reign.

Finally, a near-perfect pop disc from Minneapolis's Semisonic. While the band has always hinted it had the right stuff to deliver a truly great record, Chemistry is the first of the band's three releases to make good on the promise.

Certainly a tougher and more traditional album than its two predecessors.

Duritz isn't the soul singer he'd like to be.

Honkin’ On Bobo is a big bruiser of an album, with heart, soul, and fury to spare.

What "Menace" lacks in continuity it more than makes up for with brass balls and a sense of adventure.

Life For Rent breaks no new ground, and while the publicity machine proffers a failed Dido romance as its inspiration, the album retains her debut's style yet without its wonderfully miserable substance.

Corporate radio won't touch this kind of overheated pop, but American Hi-Fi's slamming musicianship and party ready anthems should wow any college DJ worth his university-issue condoms.

With the exception of "Undertow," Long Distance falls short of perfection. But as no one else stateside is currently making pop quite this lush and lovely, Ivy continues to raise hopes.

The elements of free-jazz, mopey techno, and hypnotic riff rock find familiar combinations as Pierce's peace, love, and drugs philosophy takes on a perfunctory turn.

If you can forget that Mitchell once used to swing, the settings offer warmth and bring out melodies that weren't apparent her first time around.

While Elvis is quite the crooner, an entire album of achy-breaky heartache is too much for the casual Costello listener to bear.

Deep Down And Dirty marks the MC's' glorious return to style. Old-school to the core, Deep Down And Dirty is like a blast from the past, a rumbling collage of hip-hop attitude and riotous sonic delirium.

Unfortunately, the album is a bit of a downer from a lyrical standpoint, making something like Jackson Browne's Late For The Sky seem almost upbeat in comparison.

No matter the song, from the stumbling “Me And The Devil Blues” to the murmuring “Come On In My Kitchen,” Me And Mr. Johnson sounds rehearsed and controlled.

Keeping their collective heads above water here is a solid adherence to strong uncomplicated melodies and the kind of sugary harmonies you don't much hear these days.