Repackaging it all as a six-disc set (including remixes and alternate versions) is pretentious, extravagant, and romantic--U2, after all.

Welch may never do anything as dangerous and uncouth as "Kiss" ever again. But even the threat of menace works wonders on terrific follow-up Ceremonials.

On the lovely Bright and Vivid, a more accomplished sequel to last year's Are You My Mother?, she masters the art of hiding in plain sight, concealing a sweetly sad voice in soft clouds of pretty noise.

Though crunching at their heaviest, the band still shines brightest when they edge toward indie-rock approachability.

The quartet's stubborn refusal to evolve yields genuine thrills on their typically irascible 13th album.

From the deep bellowing bass of Nat Baldwin to the horizon-racing ride cymbal of Brian McOmber, Mount Wittenberg Orca allows Bjork's singular diction to dovetail with the Dirty Projectors' quirky male-female vocalizing, floating weightlessly like a thousand ecstatic whooshes.

Ruins mostly sticks to compelling, pretty surfaces and leaves the demons in the background.

She's not Katy Perry, not yet Carrie Underwood. But look out.

High Flying Birds isn't a total knockout, but it should keep Liam sleeping with at least one Beady Eye open.

Audio, Video, Disco teeters on the edge of self-mockery, not an unfamiliar position for Justice.

The Florida band is now content to catch Pixies-ish waves of gentler mutilation and ride them 
to college-rock bliss.

This horribly named duo's towering pop songs are buried so deep in reverberating juju that it's sometimes hard to follow them.

That pairing of punk force and country grit is nothing new, but Lydia Loveless makes it her own through the strength of a blazing voice, a fully formed persona, and bluntly crafty songwriting.

Where Viva La Vida showcased Coldplay's sense of adventure, this one feels more eager to please; the sonic detail accrues with such speed that it's like Martin and his mates fear you'll bail if they don't grab you straightaway.

His latest is dedicated to "the spirit of the summer night sky," and that's an accurate, if slightly cornball, description of these six impressionistic guitar instrumentals.

It's crate-digging redefined for the chill age.

RJD2's collaboration with Philly singer Aaron Livingston bears the qualities that have divided the instrumental hip-hop producer's fans since the 2006 misfire The Third Hand -- most prominently, jazz-rock ellipses and thin, expressive vocals (Livingston's are only slightly better than RJ's own efforts).

Conditions of My Parole, featuring a supporting cast that includes Keenan's son Devo and ex-Mars Volta drummer Jon Theodore, reveals a more reassuring side of a singer better known for willful alienation.

Her third self-produced, self-released record in less than two years, is checkered with sweet-and-salty Americana, despite Lynne's tendency to wander precariously close to Jordache-commercial territory

For their previous temporary-reunion album, 2003's Strays, these dark alt gods created a superslick din seemingly designed for radio, but definitely not your heart.

Nothing on this full-length debut is so insidious, though several tracks come close.

Real Estate's gift is that they either don't overthink their melodies or they can't, and the simplicity contrasts with their steady, dreamy atmospherics: instant nostalgia for an angst-free generation.

Extra Playful is as easygoing and steady rolling as he's ever sounded, serving up hooks, elegant Euro-beats, and a modicum of glee in poking fun at his own uptight image.

El Khatib's full-length debut is a fine testament to the power of pomade nostalgia, cigarette-pack-in-sleeve tropes, and Gene Vincent licks.

Too much of the time, Evanescence get lost in the cavernous spaces carved out by their unsecret weapon.

Gonzalez sings mostly about memories (occasionally unintelligibly), but refuses to accept that some dramatic gifts don't necessarily have to be exhausting. Still, the album is full of goose-bump moments

In terms of maturity and effort, each of these six reverb-soaked romps is as much of a leap forward from last year's King of the Beach as that record was from Nathan Williams' homemade 2009 debut.

Armor is Bachmann's most vigorous post-Archers of Loaf full-length since 2003's Red Devil Dawn.