A fabulous collection of delirious, dizzy alt-pop.

Nearly thirty years after her debut with the Banshees, Siouxsie can still sneer and storm as fiercely as ever.

Say what you will about influences on sleeves, this is pop music at its best: nostalgic and angst-ridden, but ultimately life-affirming. Shout Out Louds have found a winning formula.

[A] provocative, if slightly uneven, album full of quirky lyrics and some irresistible melodies.

It doesn't even matter much that he's a B minus rhyme spitter, or that he spends way too much studio time name dropping.

The group has balanced its studio ambition with just the right amount of real world restraint, coming up with a disc that actually improves on the first while maintaining the trio's wry quirks.

Keyshia Cole proves for a second time--for sure and way beyond the shadow of a doubt--that she's headed for Mary J. Blige-style hugeness.

Although not quite as towering an achievement as 2002's Grammy-nominated Walking with Thee, Visitations keeps Clinic at the tip of modern popular music's shrinking creative vanguard.

His most straightforward country music to date.

[Dulli] treats them all with the same ravenous intensity.

It’s an unpredictably bipolar record with plenty of mood swings and emotional shifts that will ultimately leave listeners with feelings of euphoria.

The singer's gentle vocals and Spanish-meets-classical guitar style make a quietly compelling match, especially so on his sophomore CD In Our Nature, easily the best work--either as a solo or contributing vocalist--that he has released to date.

Some of the dreamiest pop to emerge on the U.S. side of the pond in recent years.

On first listen, Taking the Long Way seems too somber--in need of a bit of levity and more than a couple of uptempo songs (like the sexy, '60s-flavored "I Like It") to resonate for the long haul. It also seems to lack the writing quality that Darrell Scott, Patty Griffin, and Bruce Robison brought to Home. But on repeated plays, those concerns dissipate.

The Purple One has reconnected with that deep vein of funk after experimenting with his splendid and messy excesses since the cusp of the nineties, and turned out his best album since 1987's "Sign of the Times."

While the raw, raging blues of 'Red Is the Color' ranks with Earle's most powerful music, 'Satellite Radio' could well be the slightest (as well as perhaps a plug for Earle's own radio show), but the artist's willingness to take chances attests to a restless creativity that refuses to be corralled.

Features the kind of envelope-pushing fans have come to expect.

For a group with one of the most unmemorable band names ever, it's funny that it's their way with words that elevates them from wannabe status.

The nine tracks run a tad samey-same, but that's at least part of their charm. They and assert Boeckner anew as a prescient, skeptical voice, coarsely toned and draped in machine-sounding music even as he inveighs against the post-modern world--technology and urban living and traffic and so on.

Disciplined, varied, and often mind-blowing playing.

Another Day on Earth is a more personal album from the ambient avatar, a recording of rare and meticulous maturity.

As unlikely as the collaboration [with Tim Armstrong] looked on paper, it works perfectly because the Pennsylvania native has always brandished a punk sneer beneath the corsets, gaudy hair color, and naughty girl demeanor.

Get past the more pedestrian fare like "Yes/No" and "Return of the Berserker," and the full scope of the Futureheads' ambition reveals itself, particularly in the poppiest track, "Skip To The End."

Carpenter reestablishes herself not only as a world-class poet, but as an artist of the first order.

Brazilian Girls maintain the same kinetic thrust and hook-laden melodies as before, but they've turned up the rhythmic aggression and electronic squelch to 11.

Imagine the Long Winters if they were far more in love with the synth and guitar textures of the '80s than the precious pop sounds of the '70s and you'd have this, a hard to pigeonhole album which greatly rewards multiple listens.

Ten years later, they've regrouped with Norton for a disc that's more sophisticated and diverse, if a tad less rockin'.

A moving, eloquent gift to Jackson's entire audience.