It doesn't take long to notice that the men of Camper Van Beethoven were having a lot more fun up north, while El Camino Real finds them playing with a technical skill that puts their early classics to shame but sounding curiously short on the joy and spontaneity that were once this band's trademark.

As Boeckner repeats the words "I have no feelings" in the last song, he seems to be driving home a point. Prior Handsome Furs outings had a lot more emotion behind them.

The faintly cosmopolitan dance-pop grooves and finely measured ballads offer few unexpected turns. They're set apart more by a lack of gospel and soul, consequently rendering Love Goes plain by Smith's standard -- unfortunate for an artist whose instrument is anything but that.

Musically, it's closest to Adore, yet it's a distant cousin: if that album hinted at '80s synth rock and goth, this re-creates the spirit and sound of 1986, right down to the robotic pulse of the rhythms, the cold, slick surface of the production, and the brooding, self-absorbed atmosphere.

Even if the songs on Walls aren't the most distinct or memorable, they come from a place of authenticity that's genuinely heartwarming and enjoyable. Like any other settled adult, he's perfectly content to stick to the reliable and Walls winds up being the most mature and natural of the ex-1D bunch.

It's a remix album not for fairweather travelers but rather the hardcore Little Monsters, the kind who love every gesture grand or small from Gaga, but it also displays enough imagination to appeal to those listeners who fall into neither camp and are only looking for some darkly elastic dance.

Of limited appeal, but appealing nonetheless.

Muse continue to make unrelenting hardcore art rock; Absolution is a tad cheesy, a bit too grandiose in its ambitions, bursting at the seams with too many ideas, and thus exactly what any Muse fan craves.

As with their last album, the prominence of the violin continues to diminish, but what the strings lack in ubiquity they make up for in impact, making an impression when they appear rather than just fading into the background. This kind of refinement of their sound paints a picture of an older and wiser Yellowcard whose members are confident enough in their abilities that they can step away from the gimmick that initially set them apart from the pack and let their songwriting do the talking.

The musicians still churn out standard-issue heavy metal thrash à la Metallica to support Chüd's nihilistic pronouncements, usually sung in an enraged howl.

A clutch of unapologetically hedonistic singles in 2017 kept the Bomptown rapper visible and also pointed toward the approach taken with his third proper album.

The crossover material leaves the album sounding a little stiff, and "No Tomorrow" seems manufactured to the point of feeling artificial, but if Attack! Attack! were aiming for commercially viable pop-punk, they hit the nail on the head with this one.

It all adds up to a solid record, one that will surely appeal to Crowes fans who have no patience for Deadhead flourishes, but one that could use a little bit of flair on the edges.

Quite frankly, this is the record that NIN should have released if Reznor had wanted to capitalize on the success of The Downward Spiral.

Given Brown's talents, it could have been much more.

There's just enough that's worthwhile on this album to hope that Hank3 doesn't fully abandon this concept, but this is a far cry from what he does best, and even serious doom fans are likely to find this is pretty ordinary.

Die-hard fans may appreciate the musical switcheroos on The Worm's Heart, but others may not understand the need for them.

Adding the pluses and minuses, it's clear that Waiting for Something to Happen isn't a failure by any stretch, but it is something of a disappointment.

Not everyone who digs Donovan's more rock-oriented projects will connect completely with How to Get Your Record Played in Shops, but if you want to experience his musical vision in primal form, this merits your time and attention.

Pearl and Eatherly don't escape their past entirely on Break It Up, but they're well on their way to waving goodbye to it.

Though it has plenty of appealing moments, it just doesn't capitalize on Morrison's vocal and star power.

Blue Sky Noise, with all of its spit-shine and modern rock luster, may not move mountains outside of its own pained and heavily marketed demographic, but as long as superhero movie franchises remain profitable, bands like Circa Survive will be there to play over the credits.

It's all a pleasing time warp without turbulence, one with songs built more to evoke the past than to last in one's memory.

Drenched in Auto-Tune and more frustrated than a ringtone rapper should be, Lil Durk turns in a surprisingly down effort with Remember My Name.

Boomkatalog.One is a clever marriage of technology, creativity, and straight-up sass that gets away with being much more enjoyable than it might deserve.

The most natural and relaxed John Hiatt album in years...Hiatt's voice has never sounded better; its course edges sometimes straining for high notes works perfectly with this craggy, unpolished music.

Sometimes things get a little too sweetly sleepy, but at its best this is a handsome, enjoyable listen.

As it is, Doo-Wops & Hooligans is an uneven debut that shows why Mars is likeable and popular, but doesn't tap into his full potential as a writer or producer.