The album's longer numbers (four of the ten songs are five minutes or longer) are the more successful ones, as they're better able to stretch out and create a suitably hypnotic mood.

Marriage, fatherhood, L.A., and devotion to Sri Sakthi Narayani Amma may have mellowed the former Noise Addict leader, but Lee continues to release engaging, if slightly more introspective, work.

Where Roses shines the brightest is via the textures that gild the album's edges.

Everything is weighed down with import, and that can become wearying through 14 longish songs. Still, people will relate to the universal doubts and fears that are often stirringly evoked by the music and lyrics on Delta. Mumford & Sons know their strengths and they play to them well here, proving that too much catharsis is better than not enough.

his Modern Glitch encapsulates true maturity, both musically and emotionally.

This is no halfhearted sideshow done on a drug prompted whim, but a serious if twisted and undeniably idiosyncratic re-make/re-model.

Ultimately this is a missed opportunity to either unearth obscure, under the radar gems from this era or push Krall outside her comfort zone with challenging interpretations that reveal new meanings in songs we already know by heart.

Grey and his band’s drive, energy and enthusiasm go a long way to selling this music but at nearly an hour the effect is diluted. Leaving a handful of the weakest cuts in the vaults and honing the best parts from some of the others would have resulted in a stronger outing.

Lightbody and company manage to deliver an unyielding and substantially satisfying collection of high quality upbeat tracks and atmospheric ballads.

None of this is to say that the songs, themselves, aren't excellent in their own right, but with a voice as heavenly as Correa's, you can hardly go wrong.

Clapton never sounds clichéd, artificial or forced as he delivers this material with low key charisma and a laid back exuberance that’s charming and inspired.

After listening to Gray's latest, The Sellout and going back to the music that had shifted through our slush pile unnoticed over the last decade or so, we're pretty stoked to find an artist making solid, soulful music beyond the confines of contemporary culture.

Production by the professional but slick and synth loving Jeff Lynne sands off the rough edges where Walsh used to thrive.

Competent though they are, the band’s experiments stretch cohesion to its limits, and Spreading Rumours consequently feels like a collection of singles rather than an album-length statement.

It works. And not just because Tilbrook's high and mellifluous voice has only ever-so-slightly thickened and Difford's lower register--used for great deadpan effect on "Cool For Cats"--defies aging concerns, but because these effortlessly clever, tuneful and pithy songs never got their full due in the U.S.

The Kingdom is a healthy and dynamic record, leaning toward a heavier sound that is majorly consistent. And Rossdale’s piecemeal, emotive style of songwriting serves the record well, leading with heart and less structure or obligation.

A few moments almost save this from moving into the “better luck next time” pile.

If you're a fan of the Memphis music of the '60s, and/or Huey Lewis, this album is a good bet. Soulsville won't be on the charts long in this day and age, but its songs are timeless, and Lewis and his band do a nice job of paying homage to the music of this bygone era and its creators.

Another Country has far too many moments that will have them lurching for the track-forward button while admitting this once talented songwriter needs someone to tell him when his reach exceeds his grasp.

Existing Wilson fans will find this an enjoyable enough diversion, but even they will have to admit, it’s a little flimsy and simply not up to the high water mark Wilson has set for himself.

North seems destined to forever relegate Matchbox Twenty into the next generation of unremarkable dad rock.

Yet, as familiar as some of his phrases sound, lines like "the watertower has more names" are still striking in their simple evocation of what revisiting the past can be like.

While we give Young a pass for getting new music out, and worthwhile moments are scattered throughout these 10 tunes (that don’t break 40 minutes), just as often you’ll lunge for the track-skip button in exasperation of hearing a major talent and unquestioned cultural icon who has spread himself too thin.

Ultimately, Crash My Party is melodiously rewarding despite its sporadic lyrical missteps.

[Their] biggest, most-produced and boldest album yet.

A full orchestra occasionally adds more bloat to an already over-the-top sound.

Desperation and fear meet talent and ingenuity in a fascinating way on How Do You Sleep At Night? making for one of the most thrilling full-length listens of the year thus far.

Not all of it is easy listening, but all of it is worth hearing.