Applaud Reznor for attempting something that doesn't read like school graffiti; shake your little fist at him for doing it anyway.

Cassadaga represents a next phase, one that will prove enduring even as the kids latch onto their next rock 'n' roll savior.

23 is one of the more enjoyable musical experiences I have encountered this year.

They're a tight fit: Ant likes to experiment, and Ali's nimble enough to keep up and make it work.

There's No Home offers a rewarding finish as a slow syncopation turns to an eerie final verse featuring Jana and John and Matthew Brownlie.

And Their Refinement of the Decline is a nearly two-hour opus that at times dares us to deny that it can, in fact, be classified as music. That spirit in Stars of the Lid is commendable--even if it makes for a project that often seems more an experiment in deconstruction than an attempt at creating a universally enjoyable listen.

The perfectly pleasant Traffic and Weather is inarguably diminished returns.

Because of the Times is Kings of Leon's turn at maturity, without any of the pretentiousness that customarily surrounds that label.

An ambient record that doesn't bore or get bogged down in its insistence on fading into the background.

Shock Value isn't a perfect album, but it does possess various charms.

Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters is full of thoroughly enjoyable tunes and melodies if you're willing to give it time.

So eager are Klaxons to prove they're not one-trick "new ravers" that they fall into contemporary dance-rock conventions.

Buck the World doesn't quite match his 2004 debut.

Red Gone Wild serves its purpose, reminding us that Redman can still be a lyrical beast at times.

He's doing something he hasn't done in years: approaching each concept, no matter how trite or overdone, as if it's his first time, surprising himself as much as he surprises us, and in the same breath.

There's a refreshingly human scale to everything on Pale Young Gentlemen--the songs are so strong that the crack of a snare drum and the bowing of a cello, simple gestures as they are, can achieve the band's grand theatrical ambitions.

As a cohesive album and a personal statement, Sound of Silver is superior in most every way.

It's exhausting.

The sound is still layered and textured, and those gut-achingly gorgeous seamless harmonies between Sparhawk and wife Mimi Parker are still there.

The album features Leo's most meaty and confidant singing to date.

Glitter is a guilt-free collection of mature rock/pop.

The songs on Armchair Apocrypha are broader, more sweeping in content and delivery than their immediate predecessors.

This is her best album to date.

Although it's certainly inventive in approach and execution, there's no denying that Person Pitch sees Lennox working within decidedly pop-centric parameters.

Some of the material is brilliant, though much of it only hints at the gems that would eventually make up Dilla's collaboration with Madlib on Champion Sound.

Even if almost every song here sounds like something someone else has already done, there's still originality to be found.

This is a heavy-metal record in the classic style, stealing bones from the open graves of Black Sabbath.

In a vacuum, Hats off to the Buskers exists as a charming, innocuous piece of work, perfectly fine for mass appeal; in the real world, Falconer and company are gonna have to grin and bear just a few more Arctic Monkeys references.