Taking cues from disco and synth-pop, TOPS are better suited to drifting and daydreaming than dancing.

There are missteps--Talib Kweli going through the motions on Get Your Way (Sex Is A Weapon), Ghostface's unfortunate pairing with Wiz Khalifa--but like the movie, the soundtrack is good, bombastic fun.

The more aggressive bangers are effective, though Bieber gets eclipsed by everything else going on in the tracks.

Once again Steve Albini-produced, their third effort doesn’t stray wildly from Matt’s laid-back vocals and the intertwining melodic guitar parts they’re now known for, but there is at least one effort to evolve.

The band's straightforward punk leanings give way to more angular, spacious, softer songwriting--and some welcome metal nods in the title track--partway through the 10-track album, but Paternoster's vocals never back off. That's where the power, hooks and originality come from, but they're a little relentless.

It's more about sound quality and songwriting than the calculated brand-building of his recent releases.

Iz and Bobby Avila (aka the Avila Brothers) produced and co-wrote the bulk of the tracks, and those are the most successful. It would have been smarter, though, to use them for the whole album, as the smattering of generic blues jams and guest showcases seem tacked on and out of place.

The Baltimore psych-experimental rock band's ninth begins in a youthful and joyous way, but the exuberance unravels into something close to obnoxious chaos.

A pretty decent melancholy pop album that deserves to be heard outside of dormitories and campus bars.

It's a better album than their last, and diehard fans should be satisfied, but it's not going to get the rest of us very excited.

You don't always know what cosmic tunnel Memory Tapes will drag you through, but you can always expect a metamorphosis.

My Guilty Pleasure is a very listenable album, with plenty of high points, but overall it tends to fade into the background a little too easily.

Wells delivers interesting textures and arrangements but also keeps things so spare that climaxes rarely happen

Lacking the jangly, well-crafted gems that made Morning Comes strong, the album sounds B-side-ish at times.

Perhaps the thinking is that a softer, subtler approach will make Antibalas more palatable to a wider audience. Unfortunately, it's come at the cost of what originally made their music so exciting.

Sadly, the vocals thwart this otherwise innovative, frantic danceathon. Those who grind their teeth in the presence of excessive vocoder will have to book a session with their dentist. The record's also too short.

At this point, however, the movement of white UK female artists using 60s nostalgia to reinvent pop music is not all that original, but at least it’s a welcome break from the previous trends.

Occasionally a lick of whimsical Irish poetry sneaks in (Earthly Pleasures), but lyrically O’Brien’s going for something more vague and profound.

This isn't the best Oh Sees album, but at least they probably won't wait too long to try again.

In between standout tracks like Public Enemy No. 1, Never Dead and Fast Lane is less remarkable filler, and Mustaine's socially conscious lyrics are sometimes cringe-worthy. But his snarling vocals and guitar work never get old, and the production has a warmer, more vintage feel than steely recent albums.

Sykes's closely mic'd vocals add a confessional quality to her melancholic delivery of cold raindrops and empty sky imagery that's endearing in small doses.

While they must know they won’t be reinventing the wheel any time soon, Sparkle Lounge is their most upbeat music in a while.

Satisfying as it is in its old-school simplicity, its songs never really go anywhere, not so much resolving as dissipating like a foggy chuff of dope smoke.

While Do Things is "easy" music, music that sounds great on a boat in the sun or accompanying front-porch Coronas, it's not likely to stick with you after a listen or two.

The results are indisputably unique, but the project often feels more like a collection of intriguing experiments than a proper album.

While the best moments prove the country queen is still at the top of her game, missteps like spoken word breaks add unneeded cheese, and Pure & Simple isn't all that thematically diverse.

You can hardly call it original, but they've definitely done their homework.

There's plenty here to compare to his unfairly criticized Rock N Roll record: new wave influences, contemporary alt-rock. The difference is that Adams sounds comfortable rather than out to prove a point.