A Place to Bury Strangers are adept at capturing a certain kind of aggressive energy, but too often they bottle it in middling pop songs.

His third album is likely to disappoint fans and critics listening for those big, emotional climaxes, but Matsson's career has been defined by his ability to find new ways to paint with a limited palette.

Although the flagrantly throwback Motown numbers are a bit warmed over, the album shines when Kelly blends his old-school approach with his modern club killa persona.

It's the near-painful purity she conveys in the high notes that surprises most, especially on the mellower tunes.

Melt doesn't sound fractured because of a glut of geographical references but because of its pieced-together nature.

While all the West Coast blue-skying might seem naive, the laid-back vibe makes you want to focus on the positive, at least for the album's duration.

Definitely a turn-it-up album to add to your summertime playlist.

The production has been updated for a new, not so distant future, but retains its mechanical crunch and metallic din.

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

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

The diversity leaves it without a consistent mood or conceptual through-line, however, and while Hogan's singing voice is, like the album, pleasant enough, it's not especially distinct or memorable.

This feels more like parody than an honest celebration of rock 'n' roll ridiculousness.

Their high and pretty voices tie the songs together in a way their previous releases lack, though they would do well to let up on the layered effect from time to time.

Apple's return to music is not only undeniably powerful, but Idler is arguably her best work yet.

A geekier and nerdier Rush? Yes, which is actually a very good thing.

It's all deliberate gazes, chins down and forced smiles, like being at your best on your worst days.

It's eminently clear these producers know exactly when to assert themselves and when to stay out of the soul legend's way to achieve the most captivating results possible.

Being authentically emotional also serves to reframe their earlier material, revealing that there've always been some truly moving sentiments hidden under the sonic reference points and clever wordplay.

Both sides are endearing in their own way, and both show off a musical legend with plenty left to say.

Their combination of new wave coldness and glam rock glitter is a formula that works well, and Haines has a genuine talent for walking the line between tough-girl swagger and fragility.

It has the vitality of today's top 40 dance-pop but is full of the kind of wisdom, wit and warmth that can only come with age.

Going for immediate and real, Young ends up with a disc that resembles a tentative early demo for what could have been a decent (albeit strange) Crazy Horse album.

Most of the album is moronic Mike Love nostalgia that makes Kokomo sound good in retrospect.

The production is just off-kilter enough to set them apart from the folk-rock pack, and they wisely resist the temptation to use their sprawling lineup as an excuse to imitate Arcade Fire.

They seem incapable of softening their sound, even when they try.

There's not much on proto-punk legend Patti Smith's 11th album, Banga, that would have sounded out of place back when she first started blowing minds in the 1970s.

What's missing is the emotional heat.

Impeccably produced, Valtari ultimately feels like two diametrically opposed albums.