Occasionally their influences come through too heavily, and the album would've benefited from one or two fewer songs. Still, a hugely pleasant listen.

He seems bent on making a career out of his adolescent emotional turmoil, resulting in a thematically stagnant, myopic and ultimately immature record.

The problem is that Birchard spreads himself so thin in his rush to tick off all the stylistic boxes, some songs sputter into half-realized cliché.

Yet for a singer/songwriter who has one of the most emotive voices on the charts and mesmerizes live, the album lacks a certain swagger, thanks to super-slick pop production.

Snoop plays to his storytelling strength, crafting a record to show he still cares about the music.

Where the project falls short is in the handful of filler tracks that pollute the listening experience, including the repetitive Temptation, F&N and Overdose. Yet it still counts as a victory for Future, who has now introduced The WIZRD to the world. It will be interesting to see what he does next with that persona.

The half-hour run time makes the relentlessly cerebral approach more palatable, though the ending feels a bit too tidy.

It's nowhere near as offbeat as they'd have you believe, but if you're looking for catchy, danceable rock, it does the trick.

The album’s clean production (courtesy of producer Youth) and comfortable mood (nicely summed up by the song Mood Rider) is somewhat surprising and a tad disappointing. However, they don’t sound aloof, either. The mirror JAMC are holding up to the mainstream nowadays is less distorted, but still fully engaged in sharp and timeless songcraft.

It appears that Wilson came up with a couple of tunes about his own troubled life but realized it might be too much of a bummer, so he tacked on a few happy-sappy Beach Boys throwbacks to make for a sunny little song cycle about a magical place filled with sun, sand and surfer girls.

At first, the complete lack of restraint and overflowing musical ideas make Busting Visions feel a bit like an unfocused mess, but once you get familiar with it, it seems absurd to complain that they've crammed a dozen golden hooks into every single song.

She hits rock bottom on the repetitive, bland Daydreaming. It really does feel like a daydream, this whole idea of crowning a new female rap queen.

Ab-Soul is still the third man up in the stacked TDE crew (behind Kendrick Lamar and Schoolboy Q), but this album establishes him as the group’s most reliable Swiss Army knife: deft in a wide variety of sonic and thematic situations.

Songs are summery and bright, a more apt soundtrack to a road trip across Prince Edward County than to a night at an underground club.

There’s plenty of the intelligent, expansive instrumentation that’s earned TMSR their band-geek badges, but despite a strong finish, Universe lacks a life-changing single.

A smooth and beautiful listen.

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

For the most part, this album would sound completely at home on classic rock radio.

He seems stuck between self-consciously chasing mainstream pop crossover and some underground ideal, and pulls off neither.

His latest album is full of sexy slow jams, hip-hop samples and an overall tone better suited to a club than a lazy house party.

The other brilliant move was producer Martin Terefe’s idea of going to Havana to dub on a Cuban brass section trying to fake Memphis Horns-style head riffs. They never get it quite right, but what they come up with works perfectly as a brightening counterbalance for Sexsmith’s darker inclinations.

The lack of instruments coupled with Sandoval’s unvarying singing style lead to mind-wandering and reminiscing about her past work, like the killer hook she added to the Jesus and Mary Chain’s Sometimes Always.

Unfortunately, what starts out as emotionally drenched bop-along pop eventually gets tiresome.

The songs are still full of lush guitars and dense, clattering percussion, but offer the added bonus of being more grandiose and emotional.

The professionalism behind these country-lite treatments keeps the band from sounding as relaxed and spontaneous as they apparently do live.

The tunes are peppy and driving, the performances and production polished to a fault, and the lyrics simultaneously celebratory and wistful.

While not perfect, her fourth is full of upbeat (and pretty damn good) guitar-driven pop like 'I Do Not Hook Up' and the title track, as well as a few requisite (and equally decent) ballads that make use of her impressive range.

Mechanical Bull is adequate arena rock, a collection of songs fit to play on Guitar Hero.