Despite the diverse array of styles on display throughout Lost Planets..., this is Sprout's most cohesive set of songs to date.

While there's no denying the hedonistic charm of "Emerge" or "Turn On", it's also obvious that the album slips easily into a beat-happy rut, never quite pulling off the total and complete transfixion it was so obviously designed to achieve.

Warren too often undercuts his successes by trying to impress us with his strangeness.

The Notwist can sculpt more emotional sounds and music into a compact and cutting four minutes than most can do in a career.

While there's nothing too stunning to be found on Three-Four, there's also nothing really sub-par.

She Has No Strings Apollo is, if anything, a portrait of one of the most passionate bands you'll ever hear, at a time when they've fine-tuned their improvisational telepathy.

For the most part, words and music are woven together in interesting and convincing ways.

It's probably a bolder, more daring record than it will ever be given credit for, as it's rare that an artist recognizes that she does some things very well, and then does them.

Give Up's one real pitfall is that, on the whole, it sounds almost exactly like you'd expect a collaboration between these two men would, or for that matter, should, sound -- which certainly isn't to say that the music isn't enjoyable, or memorable.

A mature, elegant effort, full of richness and depth.

Although not every track here is of the highest quality, all sixteen tracks are woven together expertly.

Sure, they meld muscular riffs with smoky organ meditations, folky landscapes, pompous orchestration and the occasional IDM skitter, but not without losing the transcendent detail that makes each of these genres worth savoring and holding on to.

Their rehashed rawk riffage is relentlessly enthralling, but their beat-you-over-the-head scream-tactics lend themselves to a sludgy sameness that, by album's end, has worn its welcome pencil-thin.

Recorded with an ear for detail but guided by a loose hand, this is the most open, welcoming Cat Power album yet.

I hope that These are the Vistas doesn't go down in history as "that record where the jazz guys played Nirvana", because it is much more than that.

If there's anything wrong with Life On Other Planets, it's that the band really isn't branching out at all -- and when you get to your fourth album, it's hard to sound as fresh and vital as you once did if you aren't trying anything new.

This is one of Cave's best album in years, if not an immediate candidate for a career highlight.

If he's not this generation's most raggedly refined songwriting presence, then he's certainly in the top ten percent of his class -- a bona fide show-stopping tunesmith on a par with giants Elliott Smith, Ron Sexsmith and Richard Davies.

More sonically adventurous than its mainstream look suggests.

However nice the guitar sounds, though, it's hard to ignore the fact that it's dressing up songs that would be a bit dull without it.

Flashes of the energy and precision JOA exhibit in the live forum are, arguably for the first time, perfectly realized here.

While there's undoubtedly a wealth of ideas to be found here, listenability is the real wildcard.

Equal parts prog-rock pretension, spiritual rejuvenation and glam rock harangue.

However, while Looks at the Bird's expanded arrangements are more conventionally "listenable" than much of Field Recordings, this comes at a small price.

It is refreshing to encounter an album that does a number of different things well rather than sticking to a tried and true formula.

It's not a bad album -- it's just not particularly notable.

A rewarding, re-listenable collection of solid rockers and ballads.

In short, this may not be an album you'll want to listen to every day, but its disproportionate number of "Holy shit!" moments should earn it a spot close to your stereo.