This is not perfect music: the observations seem to easily gained; the faster songs mere replicas of previous monuments; and no matter how graceful the notes' elisions, an unskillful denouement on many of the songs' endings.

A Ghost Is Born is a textbook example of an album created to fulfill expectations the band doesn't necessarily share.

Despite the frigid bore of the album's latter half, the initial grandiosity of the songwriting and vocals make it possible that the Killers can avoid the bleak fate shared by other new wave gimmick acts.

The imperfections in Farrar's singing can be distracting at times, but the implacable force of his delivery trumps wobbly pitch every time.

While not as edgy as The Process of Belief, it is more complex and better produced.

The band's attempts to diversify the tone are not always successful.

The songs on In Exile Deo are her strongest yet.

Garza’s assault on the skins, much tighter than any Bonham comparisons could possibly describe, gives the album much of its strength and character. The rest can be attributed to creative, post-modern lyrics.

Skinner seems both edgier and more contemplative.

Clicks in all the places his failures did not.

The French Kicks have changed dramatically and not always for the better.

Sexsmith is incapable of dishonesty, insincerity or cliché in his writing or performance, but none of these melodies soar and the lyrics reveal nothing new for him.

Like all great garage rock, it all sounds the same, but that doesn’t matter.

Stevens' most personal and focused album.

Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes is diverting, short (47 minutes), atmospheric and contains exactly one truly memorable song.

Less punkish than its predecessor, the Liars’ second effort, although marred by Wagnerian excess, lyrical inanity and overlong atmospherics, is still a record of non-commercialized large beats and immense technical skill.

AwCmon is the stronger of the two, with a trio of outstanding instrumentals acting as the backbone for a suite of typically moody songs.

NoYouCmon is more eclectic and less focused, with fine moments to be found.

The expansive palette of the debut has been shorn of its tumult and restlessness.

Perfectly arranged and one of the best of 2004, it's an ideal starting point for newcomers.

The album glistens with supple melodies, chameleon-like stances towards the history of rock and orderly, accomplished instrumental prowess.

It's like everything that has always been great about the Red House Painters made a notch or two more exciting in the studio.

There's nothing about the quintet's second album that audibly acknowledges the impact of its debut.

A shambolic, blues-based record that will repel purists of the 12-bar form but delight anyone who brings a six-pack and a cockeyed sense of humor to the party.

Cedars is a keeper.

The album is ingeniously constructed; many of the songs play off each other while seeming off the cuff and loose-limbed.

This disappointing album is infectious and literate, but erratic compositional fortitude and lack of daring is a drag, as each clever step is followed by another clever step.

Still quietly bombastic and still occasionally in search of an author, the spacey, haunted music bounces from the ethereal to the grounded dirt that our shoes kick away on imagined dance floors.