It's wrapped in a confused concept--future lovers (the album title's characters) under siege by some kind of dystopian oppression--but several tunes will surely ignite stadium masses.

Sadly, Jane's Addiction lost the fire ages ago and are now sleepwalking through the ashes.

Taylor isn't pushing the limits of pop so much as flattening and stretching them out until they evaporate into nothingness. He creates a dreamy mood, but you may not be awake by the end.

The eclectic approach was often messy but also fresh, which can't be said for their middling sixth LP.

His newest album, on the other hand, is all technique and no emotion.

It's unlikely that anyone will prefer the covers to the originals, but Isaak's fans will find plenty to enjoy in this rock 'n' roll love letter to a bygone era.

There's plenty to enjoy here, but very little to get worked up about.

Despite the beautiful arrangements, it's hard to shake the notion that Still Corners, like a lot of new indie bands, haven't yet risen above the sum of their influences: movie music, Morricone, Slowdive, Broadcast, Nancy Sinatra.

Sometimes it feels like he's competing too hard with the intensity of the big, expensive-sounding production--especially on the mid-tempo numbers.

Despite a more eclectic stylistic palette, his sophomore Puscifer album is just as moody and dramatic as those other projects.

Essentially, Evidence harkens back to 00s rap nostalgia without resorting to preachy tirades or regressive concepts, a respite during a time of sing-rap and hyper-aggressive flows.

While their last four records loosely represented the four classical elements of water, earth, fire and air, The Hunter has no obvious thematic through line, and yet its 13 tracks make for a plenty cohesive listen.

Like her prior work, the songs are thematically dark and diffuse, but the dancey impulses on Vessel and Seekir signal headier paths ahead.

It might be too overwrought for many, but for those of us who like drama, this is a fine introduction.

There's a more visceral quality that will help win over those that have been on the fence in the past.

Bondy's third record isn't drastically different from its two predecessors, 2007's American Hearts and 2009's grossly overlooked When The Devil's Loose.

Biophilia is one of Bjork's best and most challenging records; it's in a galaxy all its own, one that's not for the faint of heart.

Awkward and embarrassing, the mixtape as a whole feels like a PR move to get you to listen to Nash-free embedded song Silly by new protégé Casha.

Add it all up and you get a typical Ryan Adams release.

Between Rahman's "Slumdog pop" on Mahiya (deluxe edition), Marley's melodic island jam, Miracle Worker, and Stone's vocal acrobatics fluttering around Jagger and Stewart and adding big choruses to Energy, the album's all over the place and never dull.

At times, the mid-tempo brooding gets a bit monotonous, but Cole is an engaging enough character to make this a solid debut.

Wilco's ace eighth album, the first released on their own label, dBpm, is a real kick in the pants.

Olympia, Washington's Wolves in the Throne Room have made their most accessible album to date.

While a layer of fuzz covered most of that debut, here the production is sharper and highlights Dee Dee's voice and twangy guitar lines, and her vocals are more confident and evocative.

While the songs sound effortlessly crafted, there's a complexity to the melodies and structures that surprises on repeat listens.

Annie Clark, aka St. Vincent, is an astounding electric guitarist, yet on her absorbing third album she never puts her mastery of the instrument ahead of a great song.

An album that vacillates between raucous and refined without losing sight of the dance floor.

Green Naugahyde is very much a return to their glory years, which makes it a great introduction for new ears and a satisfying addition to the catalogue for long-time fans.