This is the kind of album that clicks right off but continues to grow on you.

Like every Backstreet record before it, Unbreakable boasts Super Glue-strength harmonies and an overall tightness of sound--the boys may be practitioners of the kind of pop that music snobs love to skewer, but that doesn't mean they're not exceptionally good at it, or that there's not a lot here worth whistling to.

AMC’s second second-life album (recorded with L.A. musicians on bass and drums) is as gorgeous and disorderly as any in its nine-album catalog.

Out of the blue and virtually as fun as a party out of bounds, Funplex is a dee-lightful reunion record.

The melodies still rumble with elegance. The choruses are instantly unforgettable. And the band's original members--Maginnis, Bill Janovitz (guitar/vocals), and Chris Colbourn (bass/vocals) - remain intact and chillingly in synch.

There's not a groan-worthy song on this standout rock/pop/folk/blues album.

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

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

Tears for Fears skirts the has-been trap impressively, translating years of experience into play-it-again, sophisticated modern pop worth paying attention to.

Complete with its complicated lead and sprinkles of string instruments, it lies in contrast to the simplicity and blithe spirit of the record's remaining half-hour--but joins the other 11 songs directly in the wheelhouse of the Dashboard Confessional fervent.

Credit producer Brendan O'Brien for the wall of sound that backs 'Girls in Their Summer Clothes,' which sets the atmosphere for one of the great vocal performances by Springsteen.

Mitchell's songwriting shines brightest at such singularly poignant moments where specificity of images meets the vagaries of the instrumental arrangements, and, in the end, these and other highlights ('Bad Dreams,' 'Night of the Iguana') definitively carry the torch.

She's found herself artistically.

Isbell's best songs will remind you of Richard Buckner, Raymond Carver, and Neil Young.

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

Hersh has also masterfully tamed her potent vocal quirks here, using them to tease one moment and hypnotize the next.

Unsurprisingly, the lyrics are direct and honest, while they've broadened their sonic palette to allow a tad more dissonance in with their urgent and propulsive pop-punk.

Despondent and furious by turns.

The band socks away the adventurous experimentation that dogged some of its most recent records to investigate a post-September 11, war-ravaged world overflowing with urgency and significance.

Always clever, sometimes hysterical, and sometimes cloying, Lynch is a way hipper Weird Al for the post-millennium MTV generation.

While some might be disappointed after spending God knows what on a copy of Twoism only to find it suddenly available anywhere, others looking for more of BoC's melancholy, spellbinding compositions should take fast advantage.

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

Ms. Kelly, though, has some points to prove, foremost among them that this songbird can rock.

An inspired and diverse 15-song opus.

Spoon's loosest, most eclectic effort yet.

His most consistently compelling release in decades.

More definitive than ever, the rhythm and percussion complement Beam's voice, a lulling, almost eerie tone that occasionally recalls John Lennon's early solo work

Disciplined, varied, and often mind-blowing playing.