Reliable cynicism, not artistic invention, is the band's forte (Moody blends into one big damaged canvas), but Froberg's vitriol is still intoxicating.

The production from Steve Albini ensures that it's not too slick or processed. These short, humble pop songs amble along like the Wedding Present if David Gedge had a wrist injury that cut his inhuman strumming speed in half.

Electric Arguments is a worthy addition to the canon of this eccentric gentleman trapped in the body of a pop star.

The History of Apple Pie aren't exactly breaking new ground in the world of indie rock, but they are the sort of band who win you over in seconds.

Minus the Bear seemed more serious about their music than about its presentation.

Throughout, Leo and his stalwart Pharmacists (who include James Canty of the Make-Up on guitar and keyboards) reflect the singer's unified worldview with hooky, sharp-angled guitar jams that somehow seem catchier the thrashier they get. Chalk up another win for one of the good guys.

Eschewing the live-in-the-studio roughness of 2004’s On My Way, he returns to the fuller production of his solo debut, 2002’s Sha Sha.

For evidence as to why labeling subgenres of electronic music is tedious, look no further than this debut LP from UK collective Darkstar.

Their tracks bounce lovelier than Joe Budden's girlfriend on that trampoline (consult YouTube), and they exhibit a flair that distinguishes their cross-continental steeze from that of any other beat team.

Aesop's preference for boring "live" beats tends to hit somewhere between the Roots ('Getaway Car') and Linkin Park ('None Shall Pass'), but that hardly matters: it's his delivery that commands the attention here.

Nothing about The Soft Pack makes you wanna know who these guys are or what they have to say about the world outside their practice space.

Of course, there are neat textures and chilled-out sounds. But by the end of the record, you have only a few tunes or hooks to serve as a souvenir of the 44-minute journey you've just taken.

The album's listlessness - when compared to the blisteringly restless heartbreak/firecracker of Dreams - is kind of a bummer.

In a genre dominated by sensitive boys in sneakers and second-hand cardigans, Rainer Maria have had an edge: ... There’s barely a male voice to be heard on Catastrophe Keeps Us Together.

The sonic touchstones are rediscovered gems of Latin American psychedelia mixed with the work of romantic cantautores (singer-songwriters) from the waning days of Franco in the '70s.

Factory doesn't entirely squander the goodwill built up by their recent excellent reunion tour, but it's not significantly better than the standard Pollard solo album of the last decade.

His dark visions are overpowered by his colorful writing and pure humanity.

Gutter Tactics recalls the anger of the recent past and memories we'd like to leave behind--perfect timing.

Rhys is the ex-Britpopper making music that doesn't sound like dreary London fog - and as any New Englander reeling from a long hard winter's ass kick will tell you, that's an advantageous distinction.

Beyond a scrappy/winsome take on the Beach Boys' "Shut Down," there's not much to distinguish one track from another. It's all shits-and-giggles, all the time.

Harding sounds invigorated and in great humor.

The details are stacked on in such neat pieces--background piano arpeggios here, a couple of skronking guitar notes there--that it's all reduced to very well executed window dressing.

It's all good fun, but (mostly) all been done before.

There's nothing all that intelligent about anything SSLYBY have said or played, and Let It Sway is no exception--but someone will always love pure, simple, feel-good pop rock.

There’s some exceptional songwriting here.

T Bone Burnett's trademark production has the rhythm section thumping as if you were listening to the whole thing from a booth at your favorite pub. Which suits Earle fine.

If he never takes another chance, this new R&B torch carrier will still have a pop career for another 20 years, but if he wants to make a real mark, he’ll have to toss that hat.

Ogerman charts emphasize minor keys, creating a moody emotional palette for the album. And, as usual, Krall's honeyed voice and carefully chiseled playing are as spare and perfect on every cut as her core quartet's accompaniment.