On La La Land, however, Plants and Animals abandon most of the qualities that made the band distinct in favor of conforming to more contemporary indie trends.

Great musicianship does not a great album make, particularly when the singer is so out of his league.

Once you get past the initial, pleasing familiarity, though, In the Clear becomes a decidedly middling listening experience.

Much of With a Cape and a Cane is plagued with over-the-top dance wankery and a bit too much recycled influence.

While White Crosses has a few stellar songs, it lets down as a complete record. Anarchy will have to wait a little longer.

Mostly, Hysterical is lost in a hazy cloud that is more Dan Bejar than it is David Byrne.

In My Mind has several potential hit singles, but taken as a whole it falls dramatically short.

The Tarnished Gold is often nebulous and obtuse, trading in atmospherics more than the countrified terra firma of the band's past.

If you are able to ignore the lyrics, you'll be rewarded: the choruses on Meds are catchy.

This approach has certainly made Shaw’s music more palatable, but his tinkering in the studio (he’s an accomplished tech head; just check out this interview and try to stay awake) has mostly drained his music of any emotional resonance.

Much of Awake Is the New Sleep feels labored, lyrically and musically.

Fast Man Raider Man isn't your father's Frank Black; it's Frank Black for your father.

On Neighborhoods, blink-182 took [Dude Ranch/Enema of the State/Take Off Your Pants And Jacket's] sonic template, updated it, and made an album where they tried to understand what it means to be a member of blink-182.

They choose to remain well within their comfort zone, rendering Slaughterhouse a largely unsatisfying experience.

The band's shortcomings only become apparent when looking at the album as a whole; its repetition of the same sunshine formula loses it flare right around the third track, when the record's pace begins to slow.

Things improve considerably when the pair abandons the preening street-cred game; Moffat and Middleton seem finally to realize that if they're going to make a love record they might as well not half-ass it.

With about half the tracks on this record falling short, Skinner would seem to be teetering on the edge of irrelevance. But even the failed tracks here sound interesting, and if he's lost his way somewhat thematically, it's all in the name of searching for his new voice.

Vanity Is Forever is understated and bare, an oxygen-deprived world with only super-sized synths and O'Connor's bleak narratives.

Them Crooked Vultures sounds more like an awkward attempt to introduce classic hard-rock rhythmic synergy into a Queens of the Stone age album, an effort that proves remarkably disappointing.

Much of the record lacks the magnetism that the handful of highlights boasts.

In between the dead-horse beatings, the Mael brothers pull off some brilliant one-liners and explore uncharted thematic territory, which suggests that Hello Young Lovers could have been truly great if the Maels wanted it to be.

There's enough here to justify a listen, but with LL's considerable talents, a little more was expected.

They're an insipid, uninspired mess right now, but the Hives aren't done as much as they are confused.

You Have No Idea What You Are Getting Yourself Into is not a record to take seriously, and I suppose on some level it succeeds in reveling in that, even if it wasn’t the intention of the band.

The album lacks the central focus that defined Yorn's earlier work, at times feeling like a grab-bag of style and sound.

Despite Rogove’s contribution and support from the likes of the Strokes’ Fabrizio Moretti among others, Surfing illuminates the problems that have dogged Banhart since the jump: He can make really great pieces of ‘60s folk and pop homage, but has terrible self-editing skills and has trouble avoiding lameness, sad attempts at humor and bad taste.

Only Place doesn't say or feel much, which would be fine if it didn't sound like it was trying so hard to say or feel a lot.

The flashes of the old Rapture are far too few, but when they're there, In The Grace of Your Love proves that the Rapture have lived long enough to outrun their hype.