Musically, Holland could be considered the more eccentric and authentic second cousin of Norah Jones.

For all of their rock leanings, they are a jazz combo in the best way possible—each player brings a potent set of chops to his respective instrument.

By trimming excess fat (read: R’n’B choruses), Madvilliany keeps a sense of spontaneity, cutting off unexpectedly and never allowing anything to get stale.

Earle's strongest release in some time.

I Am the Fun Blame Monster is totally vibrant, totally groovy, and once again, totally awesome.

What remains is a sometimes cold, sometimes confusing collection of epics that are more intricate than anything GYBE have ever created.

The Sunday girl may be entering her autumn years, but she’s still an absolute treasure.

This is the type of album impressionable teenagers fall in love with, crammed with melody and variety and thrill.

So ignore the Doris-Day-meets-Eminem descriptions you’re seeing; this is more like Kate Bush meets Phil Ochs.

Ultravisitor appears to be the first album when jazz can completely mesh with Squarepusher’s canonized style.

Rubber Factory is not as consistent an offering as Thickfreakness.... But make no mistake, the strengths here more than amend for the weaknesses.

Significantly altering the sound that won him critical praise and sold a quarter of a million albums takes some nerve. And that's what Showtime is about: Dizzee's newfound confidence.

Inches succeeds, and then some, because the record simply doesn’t sound like it’s been collated together over a nine year period.

Although clearly of more interest to rabid Cure nuts, Join the Dots is enough to bring joy (or, indeed, heartbreak) into anyone's life.

From the onset, this disc excels on a new level.

Review 1:<A HREF="http://www.stylusmagazine.com/review.php?ID=1413" TARGET="_blank">Kish Kash suffers from a surfeit of ideas and sounds; quite simply there is too much going on here.</A> [score=70] Review 2:<A HREF="http://www.stylusmagazine.com/review.php?ID=1412" TARGET="_blank">It is simply how dance music--natch, pop music--should be done. </A> [score=90]

Canned Heat mixed with Kiss and chopped into lines with Elvis and Queens Of The Stone Age.

Uninhibited and hushed in all the right places, it&#146;s safe to say that Comets on Fire have hit their stride.

There are entirely too many nods to the past for this album to be a fresh start, yet it refuses to slip comfortably into place in their catalogue.

The streamlined zoom and precision of So Jealous makes their previous work seem tentative by comparison.

It&#146;s a strong and dynamic step forward for the group and deserves to bring them a level of recognition commonly accorded their more famous Montr&#233;al label-mates.

In essence, the group has adopted the smartest possible approach on Tour de France Soundtracks by simply making quintessential Kraftwerk music of a kind stylistically consistent with the music of its past but with subtle enhancements that suggest a connection to the present.

The Kings of Convenience don’t stray too far from their basic formula of guitars, upright bass, twinkling piano, viola, cello and soft percussion in the background. It’s consistent and it works.

Camper's new work is not only as strong as ever, but also more relevant than ever before.

The areas where Try This falls down are those where P!nk eschews the eclecticism of the stronger tracks and instead produces bog-standard pop-punk or R&B tracks.

To the casual observer there's really no need to get this album if you already own Is This It or Turn On The Bright Lights.

Not quite the apocalyptic inverse Screamadelica that XTRMNTR was, it&#146;s still a damn site more radical, experimental and dangerous than anything produced by any other mainstream rock band this year.

Music fans of the world rejoice--Yo La Tengo can once again hear the heart beating as one.