Synths push this from kraut-psych-cruise-control curiosity to unabashed triumph.

Predictable and immaculately produced, these arena-shakers offer a familiar brand of Jersey cheese, but where Jon Bon Jovi once was kind of quixotic ('Livin' on a Prayer'), he's more contemplative than ever, turning out meditations like 'Live Before You Die' ("There'll come a day when you have to say hello to goodbye").

More corny than convincing. [May 2006, p.91]

They all sound like pop songs... yet they all feel like country songs. [Aug 2004, p.107]

Too bad the performances are so lamely tossed-off. Borrell's quavering vocals feel showy and shallow, while the quartet's glossy guitar pop could come from any crew of faceless studio hacks.

Maybe the Ting Tings have pulled some sort of Lou Reed maneuver here. Maybe this is their Lulu.

The result is alternately audacious and befuddling.

Listening to this disc sorta gives new meaning to the phrase virgin sacrifice. [Oct 2005, p.142]

There's charm in its corniness. [Feb 2007, p.82]

Perry delivers the gurl-gone-wild stuff with requisite sass, but she actually sounds more engaged on "Not Like the Movies" and "One That Got Away"--quieter cuts that recall her singer-songwriter days at L.A.'s Hotel Cafe.

Tough guitar scrimmages, soaring supergroup moments that last a lifetime, boner-like intensity, roto-toms--Astronauts has it all. [March 2002, p.130]

At its best ("Great Wide Open"), Tales recalls Foo Fighters' wimpier singles, but for the most part, it's just a reminder of why even Dave Grohl turns up the screaming now and then.

Devotees will probably find it terribly amusing. Everyone else might want to hit the bong pretty hard beforehand. [Dec 2006, p.102]

Like Good Charlotte and Fall Out Boy before them, these multiplantinum Canadian heartthrobs have finally covered up their pop-punk roots completely, on their fourth album. [Feb 2008, p.99]

Everything presents a harder-edged JT, who tries a little of everything over 77 minutes but adds remarkably little to the pop landscape.

Even with precisely triggered drums and sensuously distorted bass lines, the band seems stuck in place. [Sep 2007, p.138]

The sweetest, cleanest grunge ambrosia since Urge Overkill's 1993 major-label bid, Saturation. [Aug 2004, p.105]

The static beats of... Scott Storch and Trackmasters do little to freshen up his sound. [Jun 2006, p.78]

There’s plenty of groan-inducing lyrical inanity, and one can only assume the reggae-rock abomination 'Beat on Repeat' was a misguided effort to branch out. Sometimes the middle of the road is the proper path.

The Offspring's nervousness is palpable in their protestations of relevance and liveliness, but no matter how fast or loud things get, there's no energy or wit, nothing to convince you this band could win, or even prolong, a fight with oblivion.

Memories does indeed trigger some, particularly when a big-chorused rocker ("The Afterlife") opens up like a razor-blade suitcase. As for the ballads, you're better off YouTubing "Glycerine" -- or one of the tearjerkers ("Forever May You Run" ) from Rossdale's underappreciated 2008 solo disc.

By no stretch of the imagination is Beerbongs & Bentleys a good album, but it’s admirable in its commitment to its strangely singular dirtbag vision of L.A. luxury. It isn’t consistent enough to mold Post Malone fully into the Soundcloud rap version of Ed Sheeran, but it will certainly allow him to stick around for at least a few more years.

You're better off soaking in the good choices here and resigning yourself to enduring the bad ones.

My Bloody Underground emphasizes the band's trippy side, often at the expense of Newcombe's undervalued tunecraft. [May 2008, p.96]

On her debut full-length, the 22-year-old songwriter (see Miley Cyrus' "Party in the U.S.A.") nails a variety of roles: crotch-grabbing punker, '70s soul diva, Kelly Clarkson–style bellower.

Tical 0... takes that voice and plugs it into more than a dozen tried-and-true rap templates. [Jun 2004, p.104]

Despite these moments [“NBA YoungBoat” and “66”], it’s disheartening that virtually every lyric from Yachty on Lil Boat 2 is wholly unmemorable.

The failures of his latest effort don’t simply center on that side step from audacity to reckoning. It’s in how that move has somehow left him struggling to write a listenable song.