Tricky's most upbeat and accessible album ever, occasionally hinting at his noirish trip hop masterpiece, Maxinquaye.

Her acoustic soul is even smoother than before, making its use as a vehicle for Oprahspeak the more deadly.

The band’s most energetic record since 1993’s Get A Grip.

Weighted with tunes that approach middle age with tension and caution.

It's the addition of producer Steve Jordan's bass guitar (an instrument JSBE has wrongly assumed unnecessary) that makes this a complete listening experience.

These days they sound like Hootie & the Blowfish shot through with Viagra.

An album that’s simultaneously stimulating and crappy.

Releasing two strong outings in the past year drained him of the juice necessary to make a compelling two-fer.

This is classic underachieving at its peak.

One of the best commercial rock albums of the year so far, and the sort of quality work that should dispel any skepticism about Crow's current hyper exposure.

Nothing matches the artists' very best work--but, excepting a ghastly appearance by Linda Perry, it's still mostly fun.

Survivor is cute at best... The few good songs--the jittering, sing-along "Survivor," hypocritical "Nasty Girl," and a cappella "Gospel Medley"--leave 1997 Destiny's Child fans feeling cheated.

Don't discount the reggae portion of the program; with island impresario Tony Kelly involved in much of the album, songs like "Party Hard" and "Pure Pretty Gal" strongly affirm the tropical origins of this storm.

By far the best album from the New Orleans rapper.

It's a strong effort, probably the kid's best thus far, and Dad should be proud.

Arling & Cameron continue to cook up a unique and effervescent blend of European electro pop and future/retro lounge exotica all sprinkled with a computer-calculated dose of kitsch.

Hard rock that is neither hard nor rock.

An elegant masterpiece of unabashed Anglophilia, all slow-motion shoegazer guitars chiming like beautiful bells of doom and icy, disaffected vocals that sound like the Psych Furs' Richard Butler minus the three-packs-a-day larynx damage.

Haven's one weakness is their failure to ever pick up the pace or well, y'know, really rock; like Coldplay's two agreeable, unhurried albums, there's a sort of same-y-ness throughout Between The Senses' 12 lullabies.

About as far removed from Dire Straits as it can be.

The Thrills continue to crank out buoyant melodies that keep singer Conor Deasy from downing in his bittersweet lyrics and brokenhearted vocals.

Lucky Day proves Shaggy's optimism and charisma don't require market-tested hooks.

Audioslave is the best of both bands.

But for all the high-level assistance the group receives, what keeps Built From Scratch consistently interesting remains the fantastic four’s work on the wheels of steel.

The band builds on the power of the previous Thirteenth Step, applying hypnotic arrangements, brooding melodies, and droning rhythms to a collection that sounds absurd on its surface, but is woven together by A Perfect Circle's heavy and dark-lidded instrumental approach.

Slicker Than Your Average too often slides that slippery slope to mainstream blandness.

Whatever angst might have settled under the surface has been swept clean and in its place a jubilant spiritual quest in is place.

Thankful is everything an American Idol viewer would expect from a debut album: the musical drama of Meat Loaf, Celine Dion, and the crew from Titanic, the R&B pyrotechnics of Whitney Houston, the (sub)urban melodrama of Mariah Carey and lots and lots of vocal gymnastics. That it all sounds like it came from a can is beside the point.