Master and Everyone is a solid collection of rather thin songs that never quite sound intimate; songs that meant something profound to someone-- but always, it seems, someone else.

An above-average production of reasonable merit.

Unsurprising, and not much of a main course, but a tasty and satisfying side dish nonetheless.

But instead of pushing the electronics and making a funkier, nastier successor to his hit [Nu-Bop], this new disc feels like nothing so much as the Modern Jazz Quartet.

Ultimately, it's the unbearable triteness of the lyrics that does Long Knives Drawn in.

The album's not a step forward so much as a squirm in quicksand.

Overtly aping Mogwai, Jessamine and the entirely mediocre Bardo Pond, Kinski's aimless, ten-minute jams fail to deliver sonically or structurally, content to wallow in self-satisfied discovery, using distortion pedals to mask their junior varsity musicianship.

Holopaw's cover art and Depression-era script logo might be indie-folk standard issue, but the music contained within is a refreshing, effective new use of the boundaries: a wood-paneled Powerbook.

Do some of the more standard-issue runs seem a bit labored? They do.... But the emotion buzzing out of these songs keeps a great number of them stunning, like indie-friendly versions of scores from period epics or superhero movies.

One Bedroom... signals a return to the half-on/half-off inconsistency that marred all Sea and Cake albums except Nassau and Oui, as a handful of misfires trip up the flow.

This is a massive artistic statement from The Microphones, and though it may be cryptic-- even overwhelming at times-- it remains warm and open, thanks to the stunning intimacy that has consistently been the group's hallmark.

The misstep here is the addition of something altogether basic: Vocals.

In many ways, God's Son is lyrically superior to Illmatic. Nas has created an album that is at once mournful and resilient, street-savvy and academic.

Com comes off as alternately uncomfortable and downright lazy, half-speaking-- or worse, singing-- new-age revelations to the masses.

The biggest detractor here is the band's lack of focus. The record is downright messy at times, even if the thick, murky quality does, in some instances, work to considerable effect.

In a sense, these thirty-six minutes show that the duo has basically been stuck in neutral since 1995.

Phrenology completely realizes The Roots' talents and potential, maintaining its cohesiveness despite its many disparate elements.

For all the album's lovely sounds, the bulk of the actual songs on Writers Without Homes are not particularly memorable.

One starts to wonder if all the Jesus & Mary Chain comparisons flying around The Raveonettes aren't due to their J&MC-like tendency to write the same song over and over again, as well as their ability to kick up a right good wall of white noise.

Out Hud also back up their flash with remarkable substance, setting their music apart from anything as one-dimensional as standard club offerings or moody trance cuts.

The bulk of Machine Says Yes draws heavily on the rhythms and studio techniques of FC Kahuna's big beat roots, and garnishes them vigorously with the robotic female vocals and canned electro beats of Ladytron or Peaches; it gets old faster than Wesley Willis.

While Quality may lack the basement charms of [departed producer DJ Hi-]Tek's finest, it more than compensates by employing a funkier and more upbeat sound palate to further draw out the nuances of what is already one of the most rounded and complete rap personas in the game.

At its worst, this project is just plain retarded.

Riot Act meanders from one song to the next with an overwhelming insipidness.

A good record with some incredibly sick production work.

Where others in this vein opt for a hazy, nebulous cloud of half-remembered dreams, Manitoba's music is direct and unassuming while still remaining evocative.

Chat and Business won't bring you down, nor will it kick your ass. It's the kind of album that's never better than its last single.

Jay weaves his way through every imaginable style and flavor with unyielding expertise.