Perhaps the producers have toned themselves down a bit just so Aesop can rock harder. Maybe they don’t want to steal his thunder. Whatever their motivation, the beats feel somewhat restrained, lethargic and lazy. But they are perfectly suited to Aesop’s limpid down-tempo rhymes.

The Furnaces’ brand of sonic mayhem may not be for everyone, but there are rewards for those who dare take the plunge.

The songs here are full of life, moving freely, focused without being bare and controlled without being uptight.

You could of course, if you like, rip the best tracks from each album and burn them together into some kind of RIAA-baiting SuperLoveBoxxx CDR that creams all opposition with its x-ray vision, amazing strength and ability to leap multiple genres in a single bound, but that would be missing the point.

In a year that’s produced first-rate albums by OutKast and Lucinda Williams, Bubba, a self-proclaimed redneck from rural Georgia who most people pegged as a probable one-hit wonder three years ago, has beaten the odds and made both the hip-hop and country album of the year.

The sad fact is that this rarely makes good on the promise of 2000’s masterful Mama’s Gun.

Seeing as this is only their third album, they can still get away with redundancy as long as it’s head-bobbing, genial and oh-so-cute. And it is.

It’s a good voice, but it’s not a good album.

This is a dismal failure.

It’s solid, but it has no power over me.

Though this album may not change the minds of the numerous naysayers, it does show an interesting development in the group’s all-around craftsmanship.

Disappointing, but still a worthy purchase.

“British Sea Power’s Classic”? Not quite. Not yet. But we can see the high-tide mark.

My Morning Jacket has come into its own here, transcending underground fetishizing to become the kind of band that can make jaws drop and tears fall anywhere it damn well pleases.

Hocus Pocus is comprised mostly of fleeting moments of brilliance where it all just coalesces for a moment, and then returns to its MOR state of undeveloped garbage.

Review 1: He may well be repeating himself... but Spiritualized are still a force.</A> <A HREF="http://www.stylusmagazine.com/review.php?ID=1300" TARGET="_blank">Review 2: With Amazing Grace, Pierce has achieved a perfect balance between his traditional blues-rock leanings and his appetite for studio excess. [Score is an average of both reviews: 79 and 90]

Underneath the surface of these grand productions lies hidden undercurrents of malice, disgust and social commentary- all things that would seem to be at odds with a beautifully constructed pop song.

This is North London collection-plate-pub music of a very high calibre.

Ultimately your reaction to the first album will define your reaction here. I can foresee a long cult career for Andrew W.K., devoted acolytes swearing he is the best thing ever, and everybody else ignoring him because they don&#146;t know how to do anything else.

Pretty Girls Make Graves fall slightly short of their ambitions and capabilities, producing songs that are good, even very good, but less than what they&#146;ve proved themselves to be capable of.

With about twenty killer lines or couplets per song, unexpected hooks coming from everywhere and one of the most ingenious track sequences of the year, it’s not really so hard to imagine what The Wrens have been doing all this time.

The album is not quite a match for The Facts of Life, then, but a more than adequate follow-up.

Like a leather whip encased in a spun sugar cage, it is simultaneously deeply sexy yet innocent. And it&#146;s that push-pull tension that keeps this album yanked together tighter than a PVC miniskirt.

With its charming and imaginative love poems as lyrics, Heart is a true love album that hits all the warm and fuzzy spots directly.

Dressy Bessy is their most forward, cohesive, and just downright pleasant release yet.

It is a wonderful album that explores separation and endings and life&#146;s journeys &#150; and their inevitable end - in Zevon&#146;s inimitable style.

What happens in The Neptunes Present... Clones is that Pharrell, Chad and co. say &#147;look what we can do&#148;, and then proceed to show us that they can do nearly everything.

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.